by Caroline Day
Marnie Shale is holding out some flowers. They are yellow and white, and the other woman is saying she’ll put them in water and pop the kettle on. And, of course, she’s Bridget. She’s Danny Flynn’s mother and – bingo – of course, I know exactly who Marnie Shale is. What a silly jumble head I am to take so long.
It’s not just flowers that she’s brought, but chocolates too, and these are ones that look like little seashells or maybe snails, and they’re not just brown chocolate but yellow chocolate too, not properly mixed in so there are two different colours. They’re very delicious though, so when I’ve had my first one just to try them, I have another one just because of wanting to.
‘How are you coping, you poor thing? It must be so distressing. Danny said you were with Jenny when she collapsed?’
I nod without saying any words and it’s because of the chocolate snail in my mouth.
‘You must have been so scared. All on your own. Such a terrible shock.’
My head doesn’t really want to think about it. I’m thinking about putting my hands over my ears but I can’t because of having another chocolate in my hand and needing to put it into my mouth and I have to eat it quickly so that I can say a reply. ‘Danny Flynn came. He was there too.’
Marnie Shale nods, like big up-and-downing with her head, and she says, yes, yes, of course, and wasn’t that so lucky. And what about Jenny, she says, how is my mum doing? Is there any change?
And I’m thinking, of course there’s a change. It’s a big, huge, ginormous change because of my mum not being awake anymore and being in the hospital and not talking or saying sweet dreams or let’s have a nice cup of tea, and just being asleep and in the bed with the elephant nose and the noises all around and the screens. But I’m also thinking that this is not what Marnie Shale means, actually, because of what Danny said, about his phone call to the hospital, which was no change. He said that they would definitely let me know if there was any change. And that was a promise. So I shake my head and I say, no, no change.
Bridget is back now, with a big smile, and she’s bringing a tray and on it are the flowers and a teapot and two mugs, and she says, Hope, aren’t you going to offer your guest one of your chocolates? I think this is because of me having the box by my hand on the table and with a chocolate in my mouth. But Marnie Shale laughs and says no thanks, they’re all for Hope. She’s brought a book for my mum too. And she takes it out of her bag and it’s called Infinity Sister and it’s by Marnie Shale with her name on the cover and she opens it to show me what she’s written inside, which is Dearest Jenny. The hardest times are when we find the greatest strength – wishing you better. Love always, Marnie x
Bridget says how very special, and do please excuse her but there are a ton of jobs she needs to be getting on with in the house, and please don’t think she’s rude if she leaves us to it. Marnie says, of course, but is she sure she won’t join us for a cuppa and she hopes she’s not in the way, and Bridget says no quite the opposite, and it’s lovely to meet her because Danny loves her books and says how interesting her classes are. Bridget says how kind of her to come and see Hope – that’s me – but honestly, she has a hundred things to be doing, so please, do excuse her …
While they’re talking I’m looking at Marnie’s book and the writing which is pretty and looping in a black pen – and there’s a chocolate fingerprint, too, but not a big one and only in the very bottom corner of the page, and I think maybe it’s from my fingers, so I close it again. I say: ‘What’s your book about?’
Marnie Shale says, well, I suppose it’s about friendships and expectations and disappointments, but ultimately, hope. And I say Hope like me, and she laughs a bouncing laugh and says no, the other type of hope which is really wanting something to happen and not knowing if it will or not. By the way, she says, never ever repeat what she’s just said when she comes to talk about elevator pitches in the writing group.
I’m very confused by this and I don’t even mind if she thinks I’m stupid, because I don’t even know what an elevator is or a pitch, except for a football pitch. But in fact, this pitch is a bit like a sport too because of it being a throw that you do in baseball, which is like rounders for Americans, but it’s a word that can mean trying to sell something in a quick way, like you’re throwing it really fast to try and make someone want it. And an elevator is also American because it’s a lift, like the one at the writing group which goes down to the bottom floor which is the library and up to the third floor which is the room with the almost round table. An elevator pitch is the way that you would describe your book if you only had the time it took to be in the elevator, which is the lift, and you can’t press any buttons to make it stop. That’s just three floors. So it has to be fast and it has to be exciting.
‘So really the complete opposite of what I just said.’ That’s Marnie Shale and she’s always laughing. But I say I thought her elevator pitch was perfect, and is it OK if I go and get my notebook from my bag to write it in? And so that’s what I do. I write, in my neatest letters, Infinity Sister by Marnie Shale. This book is about friendships and expectations and disappointments, but ultimately, hope.
Marnie Shale says that you know a real writer because they always have their notebook with them. And it makes my cheeks feel a bit warm, like having a silver star put onto my star chart, or like Barry choosing my feet to sit by. And she says, Marnie Shale, how am I getting on with the writing, and am I managing to do much. And I say no, not really very much, because mostly I’m just thinking about it. And then I stop for a moment, then I say, which is doing research.
Marnie Shale thinks research is vitally important because a book is much more than just all the words inside it. A book is nothing without authenticity and voice. And for this we need research and also planning. This is what Marnie Shale says: research is like the brain and planning is where we bring in the heart. She says that we will talk about this later in our writers’ group sessions, and that research and planning are just as necessary in non-fiction as they are in a novel.
She says it ties in with what she’s asked us to think about during the week, do I remember, which is about what is at stake in our stories, which is what really, really matters. Because, she says, the best writer in the world can write a book and we will not be interested if there is nothing at stake. There needs to be something that can be lost or can be found, there need to be elements of risk and redemption, and profound change. I like the way she says profound. It sounds like she should be singing it. I have to put my hand over my mouth because I want to sing it out too – profound, profound, profound – but I think it might look stupid, because of it being her word. Also there is a chocolate snail in my mouth and we should not sing with our mouth full. There has to be a journey – Marnie Shale says this with her accent that is up and down like a wave, and with also doing the funny thing with her fingers like she’s making little rabbit ears beside her head – a book needs to show that there has been a journey (rabbit ears) or the reader just won’t care.
‘The reader must care, Hope. If you make them care, everything else will follow. And when it comes down to it, what we all care about is not words, or things, it’s people.’
I’m listening to Marnie Shale but I’m also looking at the box of chocolates because of there not being very many left, like only two or maybe three, and sort of wanting one but sort of not wanting one because of feeling a little bit like I might be sick if I do. And so I don’t take another one but I’m licking my fingers, where they’re a bit chocolatey, and she’s talking about journeys still, and characters, and our planning seeing them in one place and then taking them to another place, and we see what is at stake. And it’s not like the steak which you can have with chips or in a pie with mushrooms – even if you have to pick the mushrooms out if you don’t like them very much because of them being a bit slimy – it is what really, really matters, and then, in the end, there has to have been a change. And I say: ‘A profound change,’ and it feel
s really good in my mouth, especially when Marnie does a smile.
I have a sip of my tea but it’s a bit cold now because of forgetting about it while I was eating all the chocolates. Marnie says that this is what we call a character arc, and I think she means like in Noah’s Ark, which is a story about a big boat in the rain which was a flood. It is about Noah and God. And I say: ‘The animals came in two by two, hurrah!’ but it’s not even that sort of ark, it’s an arc like a shape which goes up in the air and then comes down again, like an arrow being shot up high and then reaching the top and coming back to the earth. Like a tragic something, but I don’t really know what the word is. Like a change. That’s why it’s a journey.
I’m trying to think about arcs and journeys, but it’s a bit difficult and I’m thinking about my book. My book is just about me and I think maybe people like me don’t have an arc, maybe because of having brains that are unique but a bit of a jumble, and that’s what I say to Marnie Shale. I say I don’t think I have an arc. But she looks at me, like she’s trying very hard with her eyes, and she says, she has a feeling that my arc will be exactly like a perfect rainbow.
Now it’s me who’s looking at her really hard, because I’m thinking how did Marnie Shale even know about that? Because I thought that was just for me and my mum, Jenny. I don’t know what to say so I just keep sipping my tea even if it’s cold now.
‘Hope.’ Marnie Shale’s eyes are very dark and very open and looking at me without looking anywhere else, like I’m the best thing in the room to look at.
I say yes. She has her mouth open like she’s going to talk but then she doesn’t say anything. So I say yes again, in case she didn’t hear me. And she says sorry. She says do I mind if she asks me a question. And I say, no. And, of course, I don’t mind it. Because that is how you do a conversation. One person asks you a question and then you answer it, but you try not to talk and talk and just say everything that is in your head. Instead of that, you should try to ask them a question, too, because of it being polite and not just about you.
So now I’m waiting for my question, but Marnie just looks at me for a bit. And I’m looking at her too, and sort of smiling because of her being nice, and also because of waiting. And I’m thinking maybe Marnie Shale has gone for a walk in her head, and then she says what made me decide to write a book. And I say, well, to find my mother and change my life, and she says yes but why – when was it that I had the thought of a book? What was my spark?
A spark is like a little tiny bit of fire, and that is what I can see in my head. Like it’s red and orange and yellow and dancing inside my brain. And I’m thinking about the question and I’m thinking about the answer, and what the answer is. But I can’t remember.
I’m squeezing my brain very tight to make it think better but it still doesn’t want to tell me. I remember my mum, Jenny Nicely, saying oh, a book, yes wouldn’t that be an achievement. I can remember her talking about the writing group and Marnie Shale, and how nice she was, and would I be OK, being there, just me and not her, not Jenny. I remember buying the notebook, from WH Smith, and I remember, in my head, seeing what my book would look like one day, with my name on the cover. But, flip a pancake, I can’t remember the moment when my brain said, here you go, Hope, here’s a very good idea. I can only remember the idea being there already. And so I’m not saying anything, just thinking with my mouth open and no words coming out, only in my head. And now I’m thinking too that Marnie Shale will think I’m stupid because of not having an answer and because of it being a conversation but with me saying no words. So I say: ‘I just thought it would be a good idea.’ And then I say, ‘And why did you write your book?’ And that is very good conversation because of not just talking and talking but asking a question too.
Marnie Shale must be going because she has a busy day ahead of her, but I have to promise to let her know if there’s anything she can do. Anything at all. Bridget is with us now, and she’s had a cup of tea too, and she and Marnie have talked about libraries, and how it’s not fair how they don’t get enough money and some are even closing, and they’ve talked about doctors’ waiting times and the lights at the crossing by the main road which never give you time for crossing. And Connor Flynn is in the same room too, although he is reading a book called Peptides and Proteins and not talking about anything.
Bridget is saying well, how very nice of Miss Shale to have come round, and to have brought the flowers and the chocolates and the book for Jenny. And she looks at me and doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I’m not sure what to say so I just look back. Marnie Shale says it was lovely to see me and to meet Bridget and Connor and she just wishes there was something that she could do, but that she’s sure that Jenny will come through this and that …
Connor Flynn looks up from his book, which is called Peptides and Proteins, and he says that, actually, the chance of that is not particularly—
Bridget says, Connor, please, not now, but then she says yes of course, they’ll let Marnie Shale know how everything is going. And Marnie Shale says well, Hope, it would be lovely to see me at the group later, but of course she’ll understand if …
‘Let me see you to the door, then, Miss Shale. Hope, love, why don’t you get yourself ready? Julie’s taking you to visit your mum this afternoon, but maybe you’d like to take Barry for a little walk before lunch.’ That’s Bridget.
I’m shouting yes, yes, yes, because I really do want to walk him. And while Bridget is out in the hallway, with her voice and Marnie’s having a conversation but not loud enough for me to hear what they’re saying, I’m looking for Barry’s lead, and it is on a hook by the door to the garden. I’ve found it even without having to ask Connor Flynn where it is. And there is a packet of poo bags on the windowsill above it so I take them because that is very important and only bad dog walkers don’t pick up the poos, which is poop-scooping. When Bridget comes back in, I already have Barry on his lead and I have three poo bags in my hand, because he might need more than one poo and I don’t want to run out of them. And I’m really looking forward to walking him. I can’t wait. But Bridget looks at me and then she starts laughing. She says, am I off for my walk like that, and I say yes I am. She laughs a bit more, and Connor Flynn looks up from his book, and he laughs too. It’s a funny laugh because it’s like ha-ha-ha and then it goes up high, and more like a hiccup.
Bridget says haven’t I forgotten something. But I have Barry’s lead and the three poo bags, one two three, and I’m thinking hard, so I say: ‘Treats?’ because some dogs only come back to you if you have a tasty bite or a piece of cheese and otherwise they just look at you or they run off into the trees. But Bridget points at my feet and says, seriously, am I planning to go out like that? And I look down. Connor Flynn is doing a bit more of his hiccup laugh, like it doesn’t know if it wants to go out or in. And it’s because I still have my slippers on. I’m still in my pyjamas and I haven’t even got dressed yet today. And now I’m laughing too, because of me standing here in my big furry paws and my toasty dressing gown over my jim-jams, with Barry’s lead and the poo bags still in my hand.
17
‘… every time they pull, even if it makes it very slow. And then you don’t start walking again until they stop and wait for you. And if they pull again, you stop walking again. And then you have to stop, even another time, and another, and do it again, until they’ve stopped pulling and they’re standing still. And if they bark you should turn around and walk them in the way that they don’t want to go, until they stop barking.’
This is me and I’m telling Connor Flynn about the best way to teach a dog. And in fact, it’s not so necessary because Barry is being mostly a very good dog who is not pulling at all, except for wanting to do a bit of sniffing and sometimes a wee with his leg in the air, against a tree or on a bit of long grass, which is like all dogs because of them liking to show where they have been with the smell of their wee, which they can smell even if we can’t.
Connor F
lynn doesn’t say anything about the dogs. He’s still talking about the thing that he was telling me before, which is about peptides and proteins. I don’t even know what peptides and proteins are, which is why I started saying about the dogs instead. Bridget says I am very honoured to have Connor come on the walk with me, because of him mostly liking to stay in his home with his books and not wanting to be out with other people. Because of his routine. But she said, good for me, and, actually that could be very useful for her because of her being able to get out and do a food shop while we’re out, so yes, why don’t I go with Connor instead.
‘And when they see another dog and they wag their tail, sometimes it means they want to play with them but it’s not always because of that, because dogs wag their tails too sometimes when they are thinking about other things, even fighting, not just when they’re happy. And …’
‘… secretion from neuroendocrine cells facilitates the pathway to tissue elsewhere in the body. But what is interesting is that the neuropeptide Y and the receptor …’
‘… the fur on their necks stands up and also when they lift up their lips on their mouths and do this with their teeth – rrrrrrr – with them shut, and growl, and they’re looking at you with their eyes like …’
‘… human peptide bond formation is dependent on a number of neurophysiological factors, and we have to think about its involvement in central and peripheral nervous system processes before we can begin to …’
It’s sort of a conversation but a little bit not one too, because of Connor Flynn and me talking at the same time and not really asking any questions. I’m sort of trying to listen to his words, like the peptides and the molly cools, and Connor Flynn is not looking at me but sort of out of his eyes and sometimes at his fingers, which are doing the long stretchy thing and sort of moving like he’s playing the piano. But then he stops moving his fingers and stops talking about peptides. And he makes a noise. Like a moaning noise, like maybe sad or maybe hurt, and he puts his arms over the top of his head.
