The Year of the Rat by Clare Furniss Read Free Book Online

last that I’m furious. Her eyes do the wide, innocent
Oh, I
think there must be some mistake
thing that she used
to use on traffic wardens. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me.’
    ‘I AM!’ I shout as loudly as I dare; I can hear Dad clattering about downstairs in the kitchen. ‘Of course I bloody am.’
    ‘Well, you could’ve fooled me. Come on. Spit it out. What have I done now?’
    I take a deep breath. ‘Well, apart from scaring the life out of me
and
waking me up—’
    ‘Well, exactly. That’s precisely why I’m here actually.’ She smiles indulgently. ‘But then you looked so sweet and peaceful lying there asleep that I thought
I’d give you five minutes while I had a cigarette. Except then the window . . .’ She gestures at it as if it explains everything.
    ‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Stop. Go back. What’s precisely why you’re here?’
    She looks at me as if I’m stupid. ‘I’m your wake-up call. Come on. Rise and shine, sleepyhead. Spit spot.’
    I blink at her.
    ‘First day of your exams and all that?’ she says slowly, as if to a small child. ‘Shouldn’t you be up and about by now?’
    In fact, I’d been lying in bed, pretending to myself that I was still asleep, trying not to think about this very thing, when she appeared. Not that I care about the exams. How could I
now? But the thought of the lines of desks in the hall,
You may turn your papers over
now,
everyone scribbling away like mad and then gabbling on about it afterwards . . . I could
do without it. But I’m not going to let her distract me from my anger.
    ‘Never mind that,’ I say, trying to keep my voice down. ‘
Where the hell have you been?
    ‘Oh,’ she says vaguely. ‘Well. The thing is I can’t really talk about that.’
    ‘I thought you weren’t coming back.’ As I say it, I feel my eyes fill with unexpected tears and I get up and turn away from her. I take my dressing gown from the hook on the
door and wrap it round me.
    ‘Did you?’
    ‘
Yes.
I’ve been waiting for you. Ever since the funeral.’
    ‘Don’t remind me about that funeral, Pearl,’ she groans. ‘Wasn’t it dreadful? I wanted one of those funerals in a field where everyone has fun. You know. People
wear yellow—’
    ‘Yellow?’
    ‘And everyone would have to tell stories about how marvellous I was. Beautiful and hilarious, that kind of thing. Kind to animals and a friend to the downtrodden and—’
    ‘OK, I get the idea.’
    ‘—and then dance and get drunk.
That’s
the kind of funeral I wanted.’
    ‘Well then, you should have made a will,’ I snap. ‘Apparently, it’s very inconvenient that you didn’t. There’s all sorts of forms and stuff you didn’t
fill in. Dad’s been doing his nut. Anyway, I hate yellow.’
    ‘That was just an example obviously. Not black was what I meant.’ She frowns. ‘I don’t think you’re really entering into the spirit of this, Pearl.’
    ‘I like black. Anyway, you’ve changed the subject.’
    There’s a pause.
    ‘Well, I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t realize you’d be worried.’
    ‘Are you? You don’t seem very sorry.’
    ‘Yes, of course I am, darling. I don’t want you to be upset. But I’m here now, aren’t I?’
    ‘I suppose.’
    She’s finally got the window open and is sitting on the sill, blowing a plume of smoke into the clear morning. I watch her, wondering.
    ‘So go on then,’ I say at last. ‘What’s it like?’
    ‘What?’ she asks.
    ‘You
know
what.’
    She gives me a caustic little smile. ‘You’ll have to wait and find out for yourself.’
    ‘Oh great. That’s really cheered me up.’
    She laughs. ‘You asked.’
    ‘Where then? Just tell me where you’ve been since I saw you in church.’
    She sighs impatiently. ‘I told you, Pearl. I’m not going to talk about any of that.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because.’
    ‘Because what?’
    ‘Because it’s not for you to know. It’s not for anyone to know.’ She says it with