Jane Jones presses a button and I am brought back out of the bath. It is like a flying machine. Straight off I think of Truly. Truly who never liked nothing so much as going up high. It is like flying, Truly, I whisper in my head, in this swinging machine.
I listen in my head for a Polperroey giggle. But Truly doesn’t say nothing back.
Jane Jones rubs me about in a furred white sheet. ‘That’s you squeaky clean,’ she says. ‘Would you like to try some gardenia body cream? It smells divine.’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Lots, please. All over.’
SAM
THAT SAME AFTERNOON of Mother’s visit it happened, Annie told us the news I’ll remember even when I’m pruning in Heaven.
‘His name is Sam Matthews,’ she said.
And nothing in our Garden was ever safe again.
Course, she had already started talking plenty before I found her. It took me a little while, so the first I heard of it was whispering through the door of the end shitting stall in the latrine hut. And when I swung the door back, well, it weren’t just Annie in there, but all of my elder sisters, squished in tighter than a nest of earwigs round the stinking drop-hole. Sisters, who, I don’t mind saying, were supposed to be hosing off the yard after a ‘roller coaster of a demonstration’. But were they? Course not.
‘His name is Sam Matthews,’ Annie was saying.
‘Who?’ I said, batting back the dung flies jumping at my face. ‘Whose name?’
‘Oh, hello, Clam,’ Dorothy said, her fingers rubbing busy at stains on her smock. ‘We were just talking.’
‘About what?’
No one said nothing.
My eyes prickled. ‘This ain’t fair, sisters.’
I watched Dorothy look over at Annie, and Annie give a nod.
‘About the demonmale that Annie met,’ Dorothy said.
And I near fell headfirst down the drop-hole at that.
‘I’m sorry?’ I said.
Annie looked quick at me. She was wedged in the corner, under the ridge of the metal roof. Even in the latrine gloom, I could see her eyes were shining.
‘His name is Sam,’ she said.
‘You spoke to a demonmale, Annie? You spoke to a demonmale? Oh, Annie, you spoke to a demonmale?’
FLAP! Nancy smacked a dung fly against the wall. ‘Ears not working today, eh, sister Sneak?’
‘But Annie—’ I felt every drop of my blood begin to shake ‘—but Annie – well, Annie – oh, Annie. Oh sisters, happen we must prepare right away. We thought we would go Outside for War. But it has come in here for us.’ And I turned to run out fast as I could with this terrible news.
Except I didn’t move. A fat hand had hold of my smock.
‘Why don’t we all sit down in the corridor?’ Dorothy said. ‘There’s too much stink in here for all this news.’
The corridor inside the latrine hut smelled something sweeter than the shitting stalls, because we kept the floor planks scattered with petal dust and nailed dead bunches to the walls. The light bulb hung low over our heads. It was always a good place for chatting, because one of us could sit her back against the door and stop nosying younger sisters coming in. Which Nancy now did.
Dorothy, Sandra and Eliza slid down the end wall. Mary sat on the bucket of paper rolls, and Annie went cross-legged in the corner by the sawdust bin. Straight off, she started emptying scoopfuls of sawdust all wasteful onto the floor. But I didn’t say nothing to her doing that, I slid myself into the corner opposite, and I kept a watchful eye.
‘Well then, Annie,’ Dorothy said. ‘This was out in the trees, you saw him?’
‘The demonmale,’ I said, my belly sprouting out maggots at the word. ‘Where she saw the demonmale.’
Annie smiled. ‘Sam Matthews was how he said it. He said, “Oh, I’m Sam Matthews.”’
‘And?’ I said.
‘And I spoke back to him, Clam.’
‘But normal demonmales are too scared to wander this close by,’ I said. ‘Oh, Annie. Must have been he was an injun. Oh, Annie, you spoke to an injun.’
Annie scooped up sawdust and kept her smile at me. ‘He said he wasn’t one.’
‘Well, we can’t believe what a demonmale says, can we? And most certain of all, not an injun, we can’t.’
Annie sprung her fingers open so the sawdust went draining to the floor.
‘We can’t, Annie. Did you check him for feathers or redskin?’
‘I said he wasn’t an injun, Clam.’ Annie smiled. ‘He didn’t look nothing like one.’
‘Happen he painted his skin pink and he hid his red feathers to fool you. Oh, Annie, I think your brain is cooking up!’
Annie looked at me and she snorted.
‘Annie!’ I was jumped up. ‘Annie!’
Annie shook her head and her snorts grew to laughter.
And horror squeezed my words to screams and my finger to pointing. ‘Sisters, see her grinning mouth? See her dancing eyes! What does she look like, sisters? She looks like a baby sat in the Sun that’s laughing while it doesn’t know it’s getting scalded, that’s what! Didn’t I say nothing comes from nosiness but nonsense? Didn’t I say that? But did Annie listen, or did Annie go out nosy and get cooked up by a demonmale injun? Didn’t I say this would happen? Didn’t I say that?’
‘Hush up, Clam. Sit down.’ This was Dorothy, come up to me, pressing the shake out of my shoulders. ‘We must all think logical now. Slow and logical.’
But I couldn’t stop. I was spinning about after my terrible thoughts. ‘It’s too late for logical, Dorothy. But, all right then, very well then, here’s logical for you, Dorothy. The Devil spotted the hole in the Wall and brought a demonmale to check us out. Except He made this one not look like an injun, so we’d be deceived. And Annie plum fell into His trap. Headfirst, she did. Look at her burning eyes! Oh, Annie, say goodbye to Japan. We will need to fight them outside our very own Wall. They could come any second. They could be here now.’
‘Now?’ Sandra screamed.
‘Oh, there is so much to do!’
My face was slapped twice. Nancy, I think it was. Sandra and Mary were wailing. Eliza fainted off.
‘Calm down,’ Dorothy said, never mind her own head was rattling circles. ‘Can everybody please just calm down.’
Only Annie was still smiling unbothered when Dorothy had propped up Eliza in the corner and said, ‘Now, do we all agree it sounds most frightening, and we will have to do something? Good. But do we also agree we should listen to Annie first? Yes? So, Annie, if he wasn’t dressed like an injun, tell us what he looked like, this demonmale.’
Annie dug her fingers deep in her sawdust pile, and smiled. ‘I don’t know, really. Like us, but not actually like us. He was young like us, but taller than us, with Sandra’s black hair and a drop of grey in his eyes like Clam.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘No, thank you.’
Annie let out the sawdust through her fingers. ‘He actually looked like any of the ones we see in the Showreel. Like one of the ones on the barricade, maybe, but without so much hair, and without the demonic obsession with shooting guns.’
‘Indications of their demonic obsessions can be well concealed, Annie, but sure as meat makes flies, demonmales have them.’
Dorothy nodded to that. ‘Did you notice any other Demonic Indicators on him?’
‘Like a Demon-boil bobbling on his neck?’ I said. ‘Which the Appendix says is the clearest Indication he’s jam-packed full of fire. So jam-packed he’s storing extra in his throat. That can’t be missed, Annie.’
‘Couldn’t really tell.’
‘Can’t be missed, Annie.’
‘He was wearing a coat, OK, Clam.’
FLAP! Nancy jammed a bluebottle on the door frame. ‘Did you see his Thrusting Tool?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Well, good,’ I said. ‘Because that needs a lot of care looking. Because if he took out his Tool, it would be only a second or two before he shoved you on the ground
and thrust it in you, and squirted his fire in you. And then, Annie, unless you had a knife to hand to cut his throat quick, you’d be certain done for.’
‘I didn’t see it, Clam.’ Under her speckles, Annie’s face was pinking up.
‘Maybe this one didn’t have one,’ Sandra said.
‘Course this one had one,’ I said. ‘Demonmales all have them. It was probably sneaking in his trousers.’
‘Well, I didn’t see it, all right!’
‘But there must have been other Demonic Indicators you saw,’ Dorothy said. ‘Try to think, Annie.’
‘Well, course, there are plenty Annie should have seen,’ I said, doing my best to remember – remembering Aunty, the first time she opened up the big black casing to read out the Appendix to the Ophelia Swindon Archive to me. ‘I’m compiling a file for you girls,’ she said, pouring out our tea into the rose cups. ‘It’s going to reveal how you lot are as joined to me as an appendix to a gut. Umbilically. There may be times in the yard, my little friend, when questions will come to be asked about the purpose of your existence,’ Aunty tapped the book’s hard edge on my nose, ‘and it’s all here, niece. Answers to everything under the Sun. Digest and disseminate this knowledge wisely. I’m counting on you, my flap-eared friend.’
‘There are plenty,’ I said. ‘I is full of Indicators to watch out for. The first is Female Murder, that’s the clearest Indication of maleness. Others are General Impatience and Frequent Warmongering. Course, all demonmales have an Obsession with Fire. They like starting Fires – particularly in Sunny weather. They like to roast flesh on the Fires and pretend they’re roasting things down in Bowels.’
‘Evita likes roasting things,’ Sandra said.
‘Also Fornication. I forgot that. Their Obsession with Fornication is constant. And Fornicating Magazines. Which are things they look at while sharpening their Thrusting Tools. Which is what Fornication means, Eliza, if you don’t know it yet. It means they are Obsessed with Thrusting. That’s all their brains were made for – telling their Tools to Thrust females to death. They would Thrust their Fire inside females all day and all night if they could. Matter of fact, Annie, did you see him walk?’
‘Of course, Clam.’
‘And was there a Thrusting stride to it?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like a cockerel maybe?’
‘No.’
‘You sure you looked proper?’
‘Yes, Clam. He was picking mushrooms.’
Well, that took a moment’s thinking on.
‘Curious,’ I said. ‘Certainly cunning. A demonmale’s disguise is various and happen it might involve mushrooms. But you said, mighty foolish though you were, Annie, you spoke to him?’
Annie was back to swirling her fingers in the sawdust mound.
‘Did he listen up? Only them Never Listening to a Female is another sign.’
Annie sighed. ‘You know, he really doesn’t sound like all these things you’re saying. I mean, I don’t remember seeing one Indicator. First off, he jumped when he saw me. Like he was the scared one.’
‘But Annie, demonmales are not known for any quick manner of movement unless they are chasing a ball. Are you sure about that? Try to remember it proper.’
‘From the beginning,’ Dorothy said.
Annie sighed. ‘All right. I was heading away from the Wall and not ten minutes out, I stepped into a clearing. There’s a tumbled tree with its roots stuck up like chicken feet and a spread of moss around it. Well, he was there, rummaging in the moss and he heard me, and he turned and jumped back and said, “Jesus! Who the hell are you?”’
‘Well, there you go, Annie. An Indication of Demonic Inquisition right there. A clever trick – playing scared – but he gave himself away with this question.’
‘He jumped back, but I didn’t move forward, so he calmed down and called over, “Sorry, you gave me a shock.” And I shouted, “Sorry” and, “Are you an injun?” And he said “What?” and he began to walk towards me. He walked slow as a cat. And here’s the funny thing, sisters, and I can’t tell you why, but I wasn’t scared.’
Annie looked up and smiled. And that simplebrained baby sat in Sunny danger came shooting back to me. And all my skin shivered to think on it. ‘You let him come up to you, Annie? Are you a total loonhead?’
But Annie kept on talking like she hadn’t heard me.
‘“Sorry,” he said, coming up – he’s quite tall, you know, sisters – “I never expect anyone to come out here,” he said. “Well, you’ve come, obviously. Um, sorry, did you just ask me if I was an engine?” And he smiled – it was something nice and neat and wondering.
‘“An injun,” I said. “In. Jun.”
‘“In. Jun? What’s one of them?”
‘So I had to tell him what they looked like, and he said, “Um, do you actually mean In-de-an? And, no, I’m not.” And he seemed to think this was something funny. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to call them Native Americans now? Sorry, do you actually think that for real? An In-de-an in Snowdonia?” And he still seemed to think this was funny. So I said quicksharp it wasn’t.
‘And he said “Sorry,” and he said “Wow,” and he looked at his shoes a bit – and then he looked at me – his eyes are shiny as stream pebbles, did I tell you? – and he said, “You must be from that St Emily’s, right? I mean it’s actually your land we’re on, so I guess it’s me that’s trespassing, so – um – apologies and all that. Hi. Um. Hello.”
‘And I said “Hello.” And I felt my cheeks heating up, so I looked away.’
‘Blushing, Annie. Preliminary Warming of the Body was happening in you.’
‘Shut up, Clam.’ Nancy stamped on a bluebottle, ‘I’m enjoying the story.’
‘And I’m counting Demonic Indicators,’ I said, and I licked my finger and drew a number two on the floor. ‘Go on, Annie.’
‘I spoke next. I said, “Who are you anyway?”
‘And that’s when he told me his name. “Oh, I’m Sam,” he said. “Sam Matthews.”
‘So I said, “You better be careful, Sam Matthews. I have a butching blade under my smock, you know.”
‘Except that seemed to make him more puzzled than scared, because he said, “Wow. OK.” Then he grinned and held up a paper bag, and said, “You’re better armed than me.”
‘I said, “I am Annie St Albans.” And he said, “Um, well, it’s nice to meet you, Annie St Albans.” And he grinned and put out his hand, so I shook it like Aunty told us to. It was quite soft, actually, and cool.
‘“So, Annie St Albans,” he said, “can I tempt you with a mushroom?”’
‘You didn’t take it, Annie? Tell me you didn’t take it.’
Annie stabbed her fingers in the sawdust. ‘“They’re not bad raw,” is what he said. And he took a handful out of his bag. One he turned upside down and said, “Feel that – isn’t it softer than a mouse ear?” One was hard as a hoof. One he called a trumpet, one an ink cap. He said he was avoiding an assignment from hell, and he was waiting for something called opening time at the Crown. He pulled out a red-headed mushroom with white spots. This one was poisonous. But this was what he was really after.’
‘Oh, Annie!’ Dorothy jumped up, rattling all over. ‘Doesn’t the Digest Woodland Manual say on mushrooms making bodies sick to death? I’m going to go get it.’
‘Look at her face, Dorothy, she is redder than a blood boil,’ I said, jumping up and pointing. ‘And look at her eyes! I knew there was something wrong with her eyes!’
‘He wasn’t like a nasty demonmale!’ Annie shouted back. ‘Nothing like! It really is the Devil’s own job to tell you sisters anything.’
Annie swirled her sawdust a while, and nobody spoke. Then she said all quiet, ‘He didn’t say “Eat the poisonous one,” OK? He actually said he might “give it a go with a couple of mates,” because he didn’t fancy trying it on his own. He put the mushroom back in his bag, and he laughed and said it sure wasn’t one for his Mother�
�s soup, that was for sure. And I went along and sat next to him on the trunk, and he didn’t thrust me neither, not one bit. All right with you, sisters? Good.’
And Annie stamped her heel. So I told her I couldn’t see what she’d got herself so itchy about – her sisters were only worried for her, when it was clear and certain she was not.
Dorothy sat down. ‘I’m sorry, Annie. Go on to the end. We won’t interrupt you. What happened next?’
‘If you don’t interrupt.’
‘We promise.’
‘Clam, too?’
‘Clam?’ Dorothy said.
‘I suppose.’ But I kept myself standing between Annie and the door.
‘Well, then he said, “May I tempt Miss St Albans with another mushroom?” “Another mushroom?” I said. And it’s funny to say, sisters, but that word shapes your lips so funny that we both burst out laughing. “Mushroom?” he said. “Another mushroom?” I said. It got so we couldn’t even say the word because we were laughing so much. Laughing till I had to hold my sore stomach in. Laughing like it weren’t ever possible to stop.’ Annie grinned at us, ‘Silly, really.’
Well, I looked back hard. ‘Mushroom,’ I said. ‘Mushroom. No, sorry, Annie, it ain’t working on me. Try it, sisters. Mushroom. Mushroom. Mushroom. Not a giggle, Annie. Not one.’
‘Well, it made me and Sam laugh.’
‘Was there forking on his tongue? Bad breath?’
‘What?’
‘Indicators, Annie. Oral Stinking.’
Annie still couldn’t zip up her smile. ‘I guess. I wasn’t close enough in to—’
‘Don’t guess, Annie! Not with your own safekeeping.’
‘Well then, no. There was no stink from him. Listen to me, sisters—’
She had stopped smiling. Now she looked round us like she had some terrible truth she needed us to know. It was like we were going to find out all over again that Truly was dead, it went bad as that, Annie’s look. ‘He was nice, you know. He wasn’t Demonic. Not at all, he wasn’t. I’m sorry, but he was nice. Nice. That’s all.’
No one said nothing.
Annie swirled her finger in the sawdust mess on the floor.
The First Book of Calamity Leek Page 15
