see
dozens of tiny people walking to and fro. They were the size of his toy
soldiers. He could also see the old woman. She was suspended in midair, only a
few feet below the catwalk.
She took two steps, walking on air.
She looked back at him, beckoning him to follow. Sam giggled, and climbed up on
the railings.
Ash took a slurp of tea. "My wife and I are going
to take a walk on Wigstone Heath on Saturday. Why
don't you come? Bring the kids."
"That would be nice," Maggie
said. “I’ll ask Alex. Though I don't expect you'll have much in common."
"That doesn't matter. We can have a
picnic if it's not too cold."
Maggie was delighted at the thought
of new friends, what's more her own friends. Everyone she knew was
connected through Alex. Maybe she would lend Ash the diary for a night after
all.
There was a fluttering at the window that
made her look up. It was a bird, fanning its wings and swooping at the window, as
if it was trying to get inside. Its beak and claws tapped against the window as
it hovered against the glass.
"Christ!" Ash shouted. He
pointed at something outside and leapt to his feet. Maggie saw he wasn't
pointing at the bird, but at Sam, who had cocked a leg over the railings on the
catwalk, and was preparing to swing himself over the edge.
Ash vaulted the counter and rushed
out. He flung himself at the rails and collected Sam in his arms just as the
boy was about to let go. Maggie, coming up behind him, ran at the rails. She
could see shoppers huddled on the ground fifty feet below, pointing up at
them. The sight of the drop flashed like a blade, and she wanted to vomit. She
looked up and saw the bird, fluttering at the windows roofing the arcade.
It was a blackbird. It escaped through the open skylight.
ELEVEN
De
Sang was expecting her. His receptionist told Maggie to go right in. She pushed
open the door to see the white haired psychologist lying facedown on the
carpet, blowing out his cheeks and making slow progress across the floor with a
breaststroke motion. Also blowing out his cheeks was Sam, happily swimming
beside him.
"Come and join us," said
De Sang. "We're having a race to see who can get to the other side the
slowest."
"To the island," shouted Sam between gulps of air.
"I mean to the island."
Sam was having a great time. Maggie
might even have joined them, but she'd put on a new skirt to come and collect
Sam. "I don't want to get wet," she said.
De Sang didn't get up, so Maggie
took a seat. She bit her nails. "Are you getting some clues to his
character?"
"No," gulped De Sang. "We're
just playing."
Maggie crossed her legs and looked
around the room. On the walls hung a grey diploma, almost obscured by lots of
kids' paintings in bold, primary colours. "Is this how you win their
trust?" She was trying hard to sound friendly.
De Sang mouthed at her like
something inside a glass tank. "No. Just playing."
"No talking!" Sam
shouted.
De Sang reached the wall and got to his
feet. "I win so I lose," he told Sam. "Time to
go home."
"NO!" screamed Sam.
"Captain Hook," he said. Sam
looked thoughtful and stared at the carpeted floor. "Swim outside and get
your coat." Sam did as he was told, breast stroking toward the reception. De
Sang was red in the face from his exertions. He perched on the edge of his
desk, drying off. "Great exercise," he said.
Maggie watched Sam swimming out of
the room and, against her preference, laughed. Then she became serious again.
"So can you tell me why he tried to throw himself over the railings?"
"No idea. Can you?" He smiled.
"How much are we paying you?"
"Lots. Hope I'm worth it. Who is Mr.
Ash?"
"The shop
owner. The one who grabbed him in time. Ash
saved his life." He looked at her. "No, I'm not having an affair with
Ash."
"Good Lord. Did I suggest you were?"
"No, but you gave me a look. A psychological look."
"In that case I'll have to be more careful."
It was Maggie's turn to offer him a
searching look. His face was wreathed with
dozens of tiny people walking to and fro. They were the size of his toy
soldiers. He could also see the old woman. She was suspended in midair, only a
few feet below the catwalk.
She took two steps, walking on air.
She looked back at him, beckoning him to follow. Sam giggled, and climbed up on
the railings.
Ash took a slurp of tea. "My wife and I are going
to take a walk on Wigstone Heath on Saturday. Why
don't you come? Bring the kids."
"That would be nice," Maggie
said. “I’ll ask Alex. Though I don't expect you'll have much in common."
"That doesn't matter. We can have a
picnic if it's not too cold."
Maggie was delighted at the thought
of new friends, what's more her own friends. Everyone she knew was
connected through Alex. Maybe she would lend Ash the diary for a night after
all.
There was a fluttering at the window that
made her look up. It was a bird, fanning its wings and swooping at the window, as
if it was trying to get inside. Its beak and claws tapped against the window as
it hovered against the glass.
"Christ!" Ash shouted. He
pointed at something outside and leapt to his feet. Maggie saw he wasn't
pointing at the bird, but at Sam, who had cocked a leg over the railings on the
catwalk, and was preparing to swing himself over the edge.
Ash vaulted the counter and rushed
out. He flung himself at the rails and collected Sam in his arms just as the
boy was about to let go. Maggie, coming up behind him, ran at the rails. She
could see shoppers huddled on the ground fifty feet below, pointing up at
them. The sight of the drop flashed like a blade, and she wanted to vomit. She
looked up and saw the bird, fluttering at the windows roofing the arcade.
It was a blackbird. It escaped through the open skylight.
ELEVEN
De
Sang was expecting her. His receptionist told Maggie to go right in. She pushed
open the door to see the white haired psychologist lying facedown on the
carpet, blowing out his cheeks and making slow progress across the floor with a
breaststroke motion. Also blowing out his cheeks was Sam, happily swimming
beside him.
"Come and join us," said
De Sang. "We're having a race to see who can get to the other side the
slowest."
"To the island," shouted Sam between gulps of air.
"I mean to the island."
Sam was having a great time. Maggie
might even have joined them, but she'd put on a new skirt to come and collect
Sam. "I don't want to get wet," she said.
De Sang didn't get up, so Maggie
took a seat. She bit her nails. "Are you getting some clues to his
character?"
"No," gulped De Sang. "We're
just playing."
Maggie crossed her legs and looked
around the room. On the walls hung a grey diploma, almost obscured by lots of
kids' paintings in bold, primary colours. "Is this how you win their
trust?" She was trying hard to sound friendly.
De Sang mouthed at her like
something inside a glass tank. "No. Just playing."
"No talking!" Sam
shouted.
De Sang reached the wall and got to his
feet. "I win so I lose," he told Sam. "Time to
go home."
"NO!" screamed Sam.
"Captain Hook," he said. Sam
looked thoughtful and stared at the carpeted floor. "Swim outside and get
your coat." Sam did as he was told, breast stroking toward the reception. De
Sang was red in the face from his exertions. He perched on the edge of his
desk, drying off. "Great exercise," he said.
Maggie watched Sam swimming out of
the room and, against her preference, laughed. Then she became serious again.
"So can you tell me why he tried to throw himself over the railings?"
"No idea. Can you?" He smiled.
"How much are we paying you?"
"Lots. Hope I'm worth it. Who is Mr.
Ash?"
"The shop
owner. The one who grabbed him in time. Ash
saved his life." He looked at her. "No, I'm not having an affair with
Ash."
"Good Lord. Did I suggest you were?"
"No, but you gave me a look. A psychological look."
"In that case I'll have to be more careful."
It was Maggie's turn to offer him a
searching look. His face was wreathed with
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