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

an air of finality. I think about it for a while.
    ‘Would it rip a hole in the space-time continuum?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Would my head explode?’
    She raises an eyebrow. ‘Do you really want to find out?’
    ‘Oh, come on. Can’t you just give me a clue?’
    ‘A clue?’
    ‘Without actually saying anything.’
    ‘You want me to do a
mime
of the afterlife?’
    ‘Maybe.’ I suppose it does sound a bit feeble.
    ‘Oh, OK,’ she says. ‘Sure. And then maybe you could try to express infinity through the medium of – oh, I don’t know – tap dance?’
    ‘No need to be sarcastic.’ I lie down on my bed and put my hands behind my head. ‘I just want to know what happens.’
    ‘And you will, my love, you can be sure of that. But for the moment
life
is complicated enough. Just concentrate on that for now.’
    She turns, blowing smoke out of the window. ‘How’s it been anyway, at school?’
    I think back over it. I’ve been back for three weeks now. The first few days were excruciating, everyone either talking loudly about nothing in particular in case they upset me or
squeezing my arm in a heartfelt way. Then they all forgot. Miss Lomax, the new Head, had called me to her office for a ‘chat’.
It must be hard coming
back to school,
especially with the exams coming up, but a bit of normality will probably help.
Normality! I almost laughed out loud when she said that. But I didn’t. She gave me a big spiel about the
school counsellor and how important it was not to bottle things up.
And of course I’m always here if you need to talk,
she said, looking at her watch as she ushered me out.
    I’d rather chop my own leg off,
I said, but only to Molly afterwards.
    ‘It’s been fine,’ I say to Mum.
    ‘I’m so glad you’ve got Molly to look after you,’ she says. ‘She’s such a good friend. I always said she was like a second mum, didn’t I? Reminding you
about your homework. Making sure you had everything you needed for school. She’s a treasure that girl.’
    ‘We’re on study leave now anyway,’ I say quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from Molly. Not that I’ve been doing much studying. Molly keeps trying to get me
to go to the library to revise with her, but I can’t face it. Anyway, Ravi’s always there too, studying for his A levels, and I don’t want to play gooseberry, thanks very
much.
    ‘And how’s . . . everything else?’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Well, you know. Rose? Is she OK?’ She says it lightly, as if she’s just making conversation. But I know she’s not.
    What if that’s the only reason she’s here? To make sure The Rat’s OK? Maybe she hasn’t really come to see me at all. I start to panic. What if she realizes how much I
hate The Rat? She’d disappear then for sure, and I’d never see her again. I can’t let her know.
    I don’t look at her. ‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Yes, she’s fine.’
    ‘But she’s not home yet,’ Mum says. It’s a statement, not a question.
    ‘How do you know?’
    ‘Too quiet,’ she says. ‘Houses with babies in are much noisier than this.’
    ‘She’s still in hospital,’ I say. ‘Dad too, most of the time. But she’s fine.’
    Mum watches me, waiting for me to say something more. ‘Anyway,’ I say quickly, trying to move on from the subject of The Rat, ‘you’re right. I’d better get going or
I’ll be late.’
    She pauses, as though she’s going to say something, but then seems to change her mind. ‘Yes of course. What is it today?’
    ‘English,’ I say, but I just lie there looking up at the patch of brown on the ceiling where rainwater must have seeped through, years ago by the look of it. I don’t want to
leave her.
    ‘Well, go on then,’ she says. I sit up and look at her.
    ‘I thought you’d come when I needed you,’ I say at last. ‘But you didn’t.’
    She watches me, perched on the window sill. ‘When have you needed me?’
    I think about it. ‘All the time.’
    She laughs. ‘I can’t