The Grasshopper's Child by Gwyneth Jones Read Free Book Online

to hope for the best. He was probably harmless.
    The cat had not pooed in her room: although the hole in the window was now securely covered. It must have other exits and entrances from its rooftop home. Maybe that’s why the whole attic floor was so cold. She leaned out as far as she could. The moon, no longer her enemy, had risen blurred in cloud. A long way off, deep in the dark, she saw a tiny flash.
    Three times—
    â€˜Did you see that, Bad Dream Cat? D’you think it was a signal?’
    The Bad Dream Cat was curled up tight on her duvet, hoping to spend the night there. It still smelled horrible, but she couldn’t bring herself to chuck it out. She shut the window, got into bed, and her feet found its warmth like a hot water bottle.
    â€˜All right, grumpy. Don’t have a conversation. Goodnight.’

6: The Inspector and the Inquisition

    On Wednesday morning, before making breakfast, Heidi circled the Garden House with her phone in her hand: puzzled that she still couldn’t find the hotspot. She had no luck.
    The rain on Monday night had left everything drenched and shining. The world looked brand new, and Heidi’s head felt washed clean of nightmares after two solid nights of sleep. On the lawn outside the breakfast room a set of garden furniture had been left to rot, under a cedar tree. In the tall hedge a wrought-iron gate was hung with sparkling dew, and one perfect, crystal-sprinkled spider web. Heidi was feeling so normal she took its photo; though her phone’s camera wasn’t that great.
    Through the gate and along a short path she found a dead tennis court, weeds pushing through the red gravel; and a rectangular swamp that had been a swimming pool. The pool cover, rolled on a rusted stand at one end, would never move again. The water’s surface was so thick with duckweed it looked solid. Plants grew out of it. Bubbles plopped busily. Heidi crouched for a closer look and confirmed that the bubbles were frogs. The Jurassic swamp of a swimming pool was alive with beautiful little bright green frogs. Fairytale creatures, with golden jewel eyes, staring up at her cheekily before vanishing—
    The swamp heaved. A head appeared, crowned in scum, duckweed trailing down its cheeks, catching on stubble. It surged towards her, scrawny white neck and shoulders bobbing in and out of view. Heidi leapt to her feet. The swimmer grasped the rim of the pool, scummed to the nipples, and grinned at her, gap-toothed.
    â€˜Get out!’ shouted Heidi, completely forgetting she was a slave. ‘You can’t swim in there. Those frogs are endangered and protected! You’re messing up their habitat!’
    â€˜Friggy froggy, frig frog,’ said Stubbly Chin. ‘It must be spring, eh?’
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ Heidi backed off. ‘I beg your pardon. But you shouldn’t.’
    â€˜Come on in Heidi! The water’s lovely.’
    He hauled himself out by the steps and sat there ankle deep in slime, scooping handfuls of duckweed from himself. It was the first time she’d spoken to him, or heard him speak. First time she’d seen him, apart from in what might have been a nightmare; except at mealtimes.
    â€˜Excuse me. I have to go now. I’ll be careful your egg isn’t hard.’
    â€˜ Heieieidiiyiyiyi! ’
    She looked back. Stubbly Chin was sitting there grinning at her. She wondered why he didn’t just get out, as the water must be freezing as well as slimy, and he clearly wasn’t shy. Maybe his feet were even uglier than the rest of him.
    At breakfast he was clothed as usual, a streak of duckweed around one ear. As usual the brother and sister did not speak: not while Heidi was in the room, anyway.

    Unbroken sleep had sorted out her plans as well as clearing her mind. She knew what to say to the Inspector. It was simple; it was the only thing that made sense. She zipped through her chores, served lunch, cleared away, and set