Here I Am!

by Pauline Holdstock

  She had her faults — who doesn’t — but I never minded helping her out. She was more like my own daughter, was Patti, and I never blamed her for the drinking. Probably would have done the same in her shoes. Bloody Len. He was never there, for God’s sake! Always some excuse why he had to add another day. Come back a day later. Some load of codswallop about a new account, top priority order, breakdown on the A23, whatever popped into his head. I saw through Len years ago. Still using the same smile to get his own way, wriggle out of trouble. Well it works when you’re a lad in short trousers but it don’t get by me coming from a grown man with that silly pencil moustache. Never mind he’s my own flesh and blood, I couldn’t have put up with him, not in her shoes. But this now. Oh God, poor Patti. I can’t believe she’s gone. It don’t seem possible.

  Ah, dear Lord, no good going over and over it again. Letting myself in the front door. That feeling that come over me. Nothing can’t help her now. Not all the love in the world. Nor all the questions neither. And no use getting angry. Too late. It’s all too late.

  Question is — the real question — where’s Frankie? First thing I thought after I come to my senses. Where’s Frankie? What kind of state is he in by now? Poor little bleeder. With no Len around. No sodding Len. Poor little bleeder.

  Let’s say he run off. Been running ever since, on and off. He could be anywhere. But there’s a limit. You only have to draw a circle, don’t you. With his house in the middle. So where’s the search party? I tell you what. These police are too busy asking bleeding questions. That’s what. Not to mention the tea. They’d be better off down the pub getting the lads out. Those lads wouldn’t be hanging about. When Margie’s chimney caught fire they was all there before the fire brigade. Anyway I wouldn’t mind betting he’s not running at all. He’s hiding. That’s what it is. He does that when he can’t cope. Same as me with a migraine. I put a pillow over me head. Makes everything go away. That’s all you want to do, isn’t it. And imagine…Well I can’t imagine…Poor Patti. He must have seen her. Must have. And then he run away. Oh poor little monkey. The poor things the both of them. And she’d been trying so hard. I know she had. She come round the week before and she told me while Frankie was on the swing. She said, I’ve done it, Mum — that’s what she always called me — I’m off the pills. She said, And I’m not going back on. They don’t do me any good. She said, Len is really pleased. He agrees.

  I said, A bit late in the day.

  She said, No, you can’t blame him. He was only ever trying to help. Only ever.

  She told me about some fight they’d had before. Said he’d been trying to help. She said it turned ugly.

  I said, You tell me. Cat and dog, you two.

  She said, I know but he was trying. He only wants to do the best, Len does.

  I said, Wants a quiet life more like.

  She laughed then. No hope of that with me and Frankie, she said.

  Well if they don’t find that boy soon, he might just get his wish. Please, God. Don’t let it be both of them.

  Chapter 2

  FRIDAY

  I don’t remember what happened while I was asleep. No one does! Night time is like a big tunnel. Like if you are walking along all awake and then suddenly you are in it and when you wake up you you are out again only on the other side. It’s like you start all over again until you come to the next one. (Like ‘Go Back to Go’ on my game.) When I opened my eyes the mattresses were budging. Like an earthquake. Or a niceberg. I stopped breathing. Completely. I could hear someone else. Then he started grumbling. I couldn’t understand the words he was saying — he was probably French — but I knew he was fed up. I could hear dragging and sliding noises and then huffing and puffing and then the door closed and it was all quiet. I stuck my head out a little bit. The foreigner had gone but so had the first tower of mattresses. Time to get up I thought. So I did. I opened the door just a crack and looked out. It was daytime but it was still really early you could tell. Everything was pink. I could not see any other people. If the foreigner came back to the red hand room he would certainly notice me so I walked away fast.

  The sea was pink. Yes really. It looked like glass all smooth. Pink glass! And the sky was pink too. There was no one else out on the deck. I didn’t know if people were allowed outside yet so I went along to where one of the metal doors was open. They have a little foot sticking down for souls who are not strong enough to open them by themselves. Lucky me! I passed a man on the stairs but he was the only person. I went you know where and there was nobody in there either. I waited for a long time with the door shut sort of like hiding but not. When I could hear other people walking about and talking it was all right to go outside again. It was bright blue then like it is supposed to be and the sun was shining. I wanted to see how far away England was. It had completely disappeared! Yesterday you could still see a lumpy grey line at the back where it was. Today it was only sea. I looked for France at the front but it was not there yet so I went to the rail on the side to do looking at the sky and making the edge go away. It was a good job they had a rail for that. MyDad would have said it was something to hang on to.

  Three ladies came and stood a little way away. They were gossiping. You could tell. They were wearing P.E. shorts and plimsolls even though it was not school and white towels round their necks like boxers (but they weren’t!). I sat down on a round iron thing to wait for them to go away. You call it a capstan because MyDad said. One of the ladies tapped her friend on the arm and pointed at me. It was very rude. You could tell she didn’t know how to behave because when her friends looked everybody laughed. I didn’t know what to do so I just did a sort of smile and looked up at the sky. I pretended I was bird watching. The sea is not really a very good place for that. It felt a bit lonely. Some doorbell music came on the loudspeaker and they all started walking again. One of them called out Come on! You’ll be late.

  I didn’t know what she meant because I wasn’t going anywhere (except France) so I put my head down to pretend I was shy. Actually I am shy so that was easy haha.

  When they had gone I stood up and carried on looking. The sea was so shiny and smooth you felt like swimming in it but there was nowhere to climb down even if you were brave. I looked. Anyway I can only do twelve strokes. So maybe not swim. Maybe walk. Like Jesus. Holding my arms out sideways. Look. Jesus walking. That would be good I thought if we started sinking. Especially if you didn’t have a life jacket — like me.

  — What are you doing?

  (That was a boy. He was a noying you could tell.)

  — Nothing.

  — Can I play?

  — No.

  — Why not?

  — You’re a noying.

  — A what?

  (See what I mean?)

  When he had gone I carried on looking through the gap between the wire and the top rail. If you do that you can’t see where the sea stops and the sky starts. If you stood on tiptoe you could make the top rail come down just enough so you couldn’t see the line where they joined up. If you did it right the sea and sky looked like all the same thing. The only trouble was if people saw you doing it they asked you questions. The first man who came by did it.

  — See any fish?

  I shook my head but I felt silly. We were way too high up even downstairs to see a fish. You could see a whale but that wouldn’t count. It’s a mammal.

  We had a fish in a goldfish bowl at home when I was little. It jumped out and flopped down the back of the sideboard. I waited for it to come out until Blue Peter came on then I gave up. I ate my cheese on toast and put my jarmies on and went to bed. In that order. In the morning I told MyMum — that’s what I call her when she isn’t here — and she got it out with the egg flipper. It had fluff all over it like the stuff at the bottom of your coat pocket. And it wasn’t bendy any more. That was the funny thing. The not funny thing was when I said you could
fry it. MyMum laughed and laughed. But I meant it. It wasn’t a joke.

  (By the way that’s what I will have to call her all the time now. All the time. Forever and ever. By the way.)

  When the man left I carried on looking but not for fish. I liked making the line disappear. I could have done it forever (and ever). To make it come back you had to breathe out just a little tiny bit of air so you were a bit shorter. Just a bit. Not even a quarter of a ninch probably and then it came back. When you breathe in it disappears again because the rail comes down. It wasn’t magic. It was because you’re taller when you breathe in so you can’t see the join. It looks like all the same thing. You can’t tell if it’s air or water.

  I did a nexperiment to see if it was better with my mouth open. It was like the sea and the sky were filling me up both at the same time. I was breathing blue in my mouth. Blue in. Blue out. Blue in. Blue out. Blue in. Blue in. Blue in. Blue in.

  The man came back. I could see him out of the side of my eye.

  — Still no fish?

  Some questions are just stupid. You don’t even have to answer them. Probably. I blew out after he had gone.

  I don’t like being with people when I am trying to enjoy something. It’s too hard when they are talking to you all the time. And they always ask you things you don’t want to talk about.

  I went exploring instead. I wanted to see everything before we got to France. They let you go wherever you liked. Nearly. They had that special sign when you couldn’t go. It was a hand like a traffic policeman in a book but red. It’s the sign for stop like on the door of the room where I went to bed. It is also the sign for Hallo but that’s in other countries. We did countries with Miss Kenney. If I went through a red hand door by accident I decided to just say Hallo. That would surprise them.

  It was a lot of walking. I stopped once to watch two boys and a girl playing a game with slidey things on the floor outside. Its real name is the deck and that’s why they have deck chairs. Someone had painted white circles where the slidey things were supposed to go. The boys weren’t very good and nor was the girl or perhaps they weren’t trying. Their two Mums were just doing sitting. After a minute and eighteen seconds they stopped playing and started eating Smarties instead. One of the Mums said Well? Give him some of your sweets then. That’s what he’s after. (She wasn’t very observant.) The tall boy said As long as he doesn’t want to play too and the Mum said Ronald! He held out a brown one. He had a wart on his thumb so I didn’t eat it. I just said thank you. The Mum was still telling him off when I left.

  I went upstairs to another deck and threw the Smartie over the side before a wart could grow on me. I could not see where it went. It just disappeared. I thought that will happen to me if I fall over the side.

  I made two important discoveries. Number one was that there were twelve decks. Yes really! I saw a picture that was like the side of the boat fell off so you could see inside. Twelve! They don’t all have numbers — some of them have names instead — but I counted them anyway. Then I decided to check and go and count the real decks. On the way to the real stairs I went past the big dining room I was too scared to go in last night. They were having breakfast! And it wasn’t waiters like last night. The food was waiting for the people! It was all on big long tables and the people were getting up and walking about and taking whatever they wanted. It was a big muddle. Some people were being greedy and not sharing. I saw a lady pick up a whole big jug of orange juice and carry it away just for her and one man had so many fried potatoes on his plate they were falling off all the way back. So then I was even more hungry. I wanted to go in and take some too but I didn’t know where to take it because I am shy (you know that) and I didn’t want to sit next to someone else’s MumandDad and anyway I didn’t have any money.

  Number two was how you spell Ocean. I always thought it was Otion. It was on a kind of map on the wall next to where it said PURSER. It was covered in glass like a picture but with a frame sticking out like a box. At the top it said Atlantic Ocean. (I always thought it was Atlantick too.) There was a cutout boat on it to show it was the sea. Halfway down there was a red line going all the way from one side to the other. It looked like the equator. It goes all the way round the world because I have a globe pencil sharpener. The equator is where you twist it apart so you can empty the bits. The map said English Channel as well. They made the letters small so they could fit in the channel. It’s not very big.

  After that I double checked the decks in the right order starting at the top. I had to go outside to start. There was only one man up there. He was all by himself. He had a little tin and a rag and he was polishing the gold bit that holds the rail up. It was already shiny but he was polishing it anyway. I only counted ten decks. It was still a lot of stairs. Two hundred and eighty-four. When I had finished everything properly I went back to the dining room to have a nother look because I could not stop thinking about food. Nearly all the people had gone and I could see to the other side. And guess what! They had a table like in Infants. It was in the corner with some play blocks and a wooden fire engine. I expect it was for little kids to be messy there so their parents could be greedy in peace. Some waiters were doing clearing up and some people were standing and doing jokes and laughing at each other. There was a lot of food left and some of it was on the floor. I wished I had been there. I could see a whole piece of toast that had fallen down. It had the jam on top. I was just going to dash in when one of the waiters saw me and waved. I pretended not to see him and went away — without running. And without any toast.

  Outside I did reading on a notice board. It said

  Breakfast 7 a.m. — 10:30 a.m.

  And then it said

  1,316 souls on board

  I read it three times. I was just going to read it again when a big girl beside me said What does that mean? Souls on board. And her Dad — he was behind her — said People On The Boat. That’s what sailors say. I went outside to sit in a deckchair and think about it.

  I know about souls because we have them at school. There is a chart on the wall in our classroom with a ladder going up to heaven and we have to bring our pocket money in to save the little Piccaninny souls and the China Boy and Girl souls. There are Red Indian Brave ones too. If you bring sixpence you get a cut-out soul wearing the right costume and the right headdress and you colour it and stick it on the ladder. If you bring another sixpence you can move your soul up to the next rung on the ladder. When they get to the top rung they are in Heaven. But I had not seen any on this boat. Not one. Well maybe the man with the tin but he was a grown-up. Certainly not one thousand three hundred and sixteen. (You probably want to know what happens when your soul gets to heaven. Answer — You start again with another one. If you bring another sixpence.) But Sister Vincent said we all have one of our own and we have to look after it. I don’t think she meant a cut-out. It was a bit confusing.

  When I had finished doing thinking I was still starving (that’s what you say) so I went to look for France again in case it was nearly time to get off. It was too windy to stand at the front for very long so I went all the way round instead. Twice! Then I went all the way round the deck with the lifeboats on. Three times! (No wonder I was exhausted.) I said when you have gone round three times France will be getting near and you will see it. I only said it in my head. No one could hear me and that was a good job because anyway I was wrong. I couldn’t see it anywhere. I didn’t know what to do next so I did looking because I could feel a panic coming. I stood at the rail for twenty-eight minutes. I know because I did counting and I’m very accurate. That means I get it right. (Miss Kenney always asks me questions just to make me show off when we have visitors. Sometimes I stop doing things on purpose because you’re not supposed to show off. But they always write down what I do anyway even if it’s nothing.) To get it right you have to use alligators. Like one alligator two alligators three alligators four alligators and then to kn
ow the minutes you have to divide by sixty but you probably can’t do that in your head like me. You’d probably have to have a piece of paper. I was counting how many alligators until a nidea came then I had to go because a lady having a walk came along and said You don’t give up, do you? I walked away really fast and I looked back at her to make her feel bad, and then I went downstairs to where the playroom is so she wouldn’t come by me again. That’s when I decided to have a little rest in the yellow tent. I was exhausted.

  It was refreshing inside the tent. If you blinked really fast you could make it go turquoise. Then you could pretend you were not worried. If someone came in and said What are you playing? You could say Going to sleep. I am playing going to sleep. They would not stay for very long.

  While I was there I remembered a whole dream. All at once. It was about the time MyMum fell down and went unconscious (that’s like dead but not). I could hear MyDad’s voice. He was so tired it sounded like letters on a page all in a straight line all the same size. He was saying Yes. Seven Worcester Terrace. (That’s where I live but I expect you guessed that.) Yes. Come at once. Only he didn’t sound at all like he wanted anyone to come. He sounded like he wanted to go to bed. I didn’t want to dream who was going to come. Instead I dreamed MyDad going out into the garden and meeting a chicken. The chicken became a big white duck the same size as me — forty-five inches — so I woke up.