A Bit of Earth (11 page)

‘Big deal,' they said and, ‘Who's Erica? Your girlfriend?'

‘No!' said Felix, too vehemently, and they all laughed.

‘Felix has got a girlfriend! Felix has got a girlfriend!'

He looked as though he might cry. Miss Block came over.

‘Yellow table! Get on with your work! Leave Felix alone!' She couldn't resist smoothing his tousled hair.

‘Felix has got two girlfriends! Felix has got two girlfriends!' they whispered as soon as she had moved away.

Erica was waiting for him in the playground. She seemed to know just the right sort of place to stand, not too near the door, as though he were one of the little ones, but not so far away that they wouldn't have been able to spot each other the moment he came out.

‘Hey Felix!' she said, and gave him a quick hug, even though she didn't usually when they saw each other in the garden. ‘Got all your stuff?' she said. ‘No lunch box?' Felix
had his anorak-in-a-bag, a navy blue one, and his school folder with a school library book and a three-week-old newsletter inside. Guy didn't know that these bags were meant to be checked for communications every day.

‘I have school dinners,' said Felix.

‘Are they nice?'

‘Sometimes. As long as it isn't fish or jelly.'

‘Hmm,' said Erica, ‘I can imagine. Especially if they were on the same day. Or even worse than fish and jelly – jellyfish.'

Felix laughed.

‘I like it sometimes, but it's a bit noisy. When I started I hardly ate anything because the smell made me feel so sick. I had to breathe through my sweatshirt all the time.'

‘That must have made eating tricky.'

‘If you are naughty, the dinner ladies stand you up, and then you don't get to eat anything anyway.'

‘Well, I hope you never get standed up, I mean stood up,' said Erica.

‘I only have been once. And that wasn't my fault. I got pushed and my drink went in somebody's sandwiches.'

‘Poor you.'

‘Don't tell Dad.'

‘OK. But I'm sure he wouldn't be cross.'

‘Anyway, it was when I was in Reception.'

‘Then he definitely wouldn't be cross. They shouldn't be standing up people who are in Reception. It sounds very cruel. Did you get to eat your dinner?'

‘No. But I didn't mind. It was fish and jelly.'

By now they had reached Erica's car. It was a pale blue Renault 4. The front seat was a banquette.

‘Can I sit in the front? It's sort of like a sofa for driving. I bet it's really old. Is it vintage?'

‘Kind of vintage. It hasn't got any seat belts in the back, so you better had sit up with me.'

‘Is it really, really old?'

‘Um, nearly thirty. One of my brothers has a garage that fixes and sells French cars. He helps me look after it. I've always just liked these Renault 4s. I might get a van one day. It would be great for moving plants.' She strapped Felix in. ‘We could have walked really. I just thought it would make a change for you to have a lift home from school.'

‘Thanks,' said Felix.

Four minutes later they were there.

‘If you could cut across gardens or wade along the stream, you could probably make a shortcut to the botanical garden,' Erica told him. ‘It's just there, behind those trees. Have you heard people say “as the crow flies”? Well, it's not far as the crow flies.'

‘If I shouted,' said Felix, ‘would Dad be able to hear me?'

‘Maybe, but we won't try it. We don't want to worry him. Anyway, come in.'

‘Wow,' said Felix, ‘it's huge.'

‘It is huge, but it's not all mine. Just the ground floor is mine. And the garden. We can have tea outside if you like.'

‘Yes please.'

‘Who lives upstairs?'

‘A lady from Poland. Some music students. Luckily they play nice instruments, and a man who nobody sees very much. I think he might be the real Mr Nobody. He doesn't get much post. We aren't meant to have pets, but the Polish
lady, her name is Anna, has a grey cat. He goes up and down that plank to get in and out of her window.'

‘It's like a slide. Does she go up and down it too?'

Felix supposed that the etiquette of not going up slides wouldn't apply to cats or to private slides. ‘Even in the rain?'

‘Anna uses the stairs. Sometimes she sits out in the garden with me in the evening. She's only got a little balcony. I don't think Sebastian (that's the cat) goes out in the rain much. Cats don't like rain, do they?'

‘Some cats can swim. One day I might have a dog or a cat and teach it to swim. I have a book with all the names of all the types. Otterhound is best-looking, but I wouldn't let it hurt any otters. Or a Burmese blue for cats. They aren't actually blue, but I would call it Bluey.'

He looked around, wondering what they were going to do. He had always wondered what people might do when they went to tea with each other. There were shelves and shelves, and piles and piles of books, but these were neat piles, not much like the ones at home. They had lots of strips of coloured paper poking out of them, like Guy's, but Guy just ripped up anything to make his bookmarks. Erica's TV was even smaller than the one at home. Felix hadn't known that they came that small.

Erica followed his gaze.

‘Would you like to watch TV?' she asked. ‘I know lots of people like to watch TV when they get in from school. I used to sometimes.'

‘Um …' said Felix, not sure which was the right answer to give. He could see the remote. It wasn't lost the way the one at home was always lost. Sometimes they didn't watch TV because they couldn't be bothered to find it.

Erica flicked it on.

‘I don't suppose you want to see these. Too babyish,' said Erica. ‘Who are they anyway?'

‘
The Fimbles,'
said Felix.

‘Well, their suits look jolly static-y and hot. I wouldn't want to be in one of those.'

‘They have a friend frog who's more normal-looking. And a kind mole who reads pretend books. He has this underground library with all these shelves, and he always says, “Now let me see, which one shall I choose? How about this one?” Then he always picks the same one because the others are all just drawn-on books, but he hasn't noticed. And the stories aren't ever real stories, they are just about these boring children who wash the car and go to the shops,' said Felix. Then he blushed, realising that he had betrayed himself as a
Fimbles-watcher.
Erica noticed his discomfort.

‘I suppose this mole hasn't noticed that he only has one book because he's so short-sighted. Sometimes little kids' things are really funny, and kind of relaxing. I used to watch
Playschool
sometimes when I was much too old for it,' she said. This was quite untrue. Her after-school time had been a whirl of riding lessons and swimming and cross-country, violin lessons, even a brief flirtation with fencing. She had been a member of the local Young Archaeologists' Society, Friends of the Earth and Greenpeace. She had spent her summers building dry-stone walls and restoring canals. There hadn't been much time for under-fives' TV. Her whole family had been this busy. It had been one of those houses with cricket pads perpetually in the hall, terrapins swimming in the sink whilst their tank was cleaned, and everybody having somebody to tea.

When she had been Felix's age, Erica had sometimes wondered why she had been called Erica. It was such an obvious version of a boy's name. She had three big brothers: surely it couldn't be that Mum and Dad had really just wanted another boy?

What a relief it had been to discover that it was to do with ‘heather' – her mum and dad had been very fond of the plant heather but thought that ‘Heather Grey' sounded rather silly (too many colours); they liked ‘Erica' better because it sounded stronger.

Erica herself was fond of the whole Erica family. The name ‘Heather' did sound rather Sunday-schoolish to her, a bit like a kind rabbit wearing a frock. On balance, ‘Erica' was better. Her mum and dad didn't tell her that she had been conceived at dawn in the heather on a walking holiday in the Lake District whilst her trio of brothers were still asleep in the tent. No wonder that she was such an out-doorsy, wholesome person.

Why had she offered TV? It wasn't at all what she had planned. Actually, come to think of it, she hadn't really planned very much, apart from the food. She could play chess or draughts or dominoes with Felix, if he knew how to play any of those, or she could teach him. Her nephews and nieces were all quite sporty. At home they always had big family games of rounders, even when it was freezing.

Then she remembered the
Twits
card game that her niece Lyddie had left behind. It was a complicated ‘old maid' sort of game with positive and negative scoring. Felix would love it.

Here it was, tucked into the bookcase, but oh dear, it said, ‘For three or more players'.

‘Never mind,' said Felix, ‘deal out some for Mr Nobody, and one of us can do him as well. That's what Dad and I always do when it says “three or more players”.'

They had their tea in the garden.

‘Please may I come back again soon?' Felix asked, when Erica took him home.

A few days later, inside one of the greenhouses, Guy was staring at the glass. An interesting pattern of lichen was growing across it. It seemed that Jack Frost had been at work, but with green and yellow paint on his brush. Here were some burnt and raw umbers and siennas, brown and gold ochres, and Naples yellow. There were so many shades of green. Impossible to categorise them all. Could there be names for all of these greens? He realised that he ought perhaps to be cleaning them off, that they would be blocking the light to the plants and his experiments inside. But surely it would be wrong to wipe them away, to scrub out their lives with some detergent solution. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He was coming to the conclusion that everything was just best left. Let the honey fungus take the apple trees. Let the stream silt up. Let bindweed strangle the philadelphus and the roses. Who was he to go destroying and interfering with the natural order of things? Let the meadows turn to scrubland, let the scrubland turn back to forest. There would be nothing but trees.

He didn't even notice Felix come in, and was startled when he heard ‘Dad'. It was really only a whisper. ‘Dad,' louder this time. ‘Erica says she'll take me on a trip, maybe to an aquarium. Please may I go?'

‘In a car?' Guy looked worried. ‘Um.'

‘Please, Dad.'

‘Well, I'll have to talk to her about it.' Stupid girl, thought Guy. Why hadn't she discussed it with him first? It seemed rather underhand. He really didn't want Felix going in other people's cars.

‘Please, Dad? It would be so cool to go somewhere.'

‘We go places,' said Guy. ‘We go to the library every Saturday …' And, er, that's it, he thought. Oh dear. The thing was, he never remembered to think about other places. Why would he? Who would really want to go anywhere? Wherever they went there would be families and other people's mothers and wives. Perhaps he and Felix should try another holiday, but somewhere there were no other people, or perhaps they should go camping. Felix was tugging at his sleeve again.

‘Dad? Dad?'

‘What?'

‘You know it's Parents' Evening. You do have to go to Parents' Evening. They only gave me this today.'

Felix took the grey and crumpled slip of paper out of his pocket.

‘They really only just gave it to me.'

Guy didn't seem to notice how unconvincing this sounded.

‘Oh, tonight, OK,' he said. ‘You can come too if you like.'

At least he didn't say, ‘You'll have to come too, I can't think of what else to do with you.'

When they got back it was nearly bedtime. They had some toast and jam as they hadn't had much supper. Felix went to bed and wrote in his Black n' Red book.

Today it was Parents' Evening. Dad said I could come too. Lots of other kids went too, some whole families were there. Dad said I could wait outside but I wanted to go in and see Miss Block with him. Miss Block said I work very hard, but that I need help to get friends. I said I needed to have friends who wanted to be friends with me. Miss Block said we could talk about it more. Then we went home. Dad said that Miss Block was very kind. I said why don't you marry her then. He just said oh Felix as usual.

Madeleine Jones was now part of a gang of girls that liked to wear fairy wings and little coronets of pink and sparkly flowers to parties. They would wear their normal clothes which might be anything from jeans and a tiny top (quite likely pink or velour and sloganned) or something vampy. It was funny how they'd all got into it. Madeleine thought it was because they liked to make people happy, and to be happy all together. They never wore fairy skirts (there were girls that did that too), but they did sometimes carry wands. They all liked shopping at Claire's Accessories. It was surprising how many things you could actually need from Claire's Accessories. Madeleine's friend Jo had a weekend job there, so sometimes they had things at discount, but stuff wasn't exactly expensive there anyway. Something glittery or with a few feathers, a sequinned clip or a wide new hairband could really make you feel better. It was like all the pleasure of eating sweets, but without the calories.

Anyway, that night Madeleine was wearing her new top – it said ‘Princess' in silver and had the cutest little slits in the
shoulders – that and some jeans and pink boots, and of course the fairy stuff.

They went to Bo Jangles and then to Belle-Bottoms, which was where they usually ended up. That's where she saw Thom who was in her History of Art seminar groups. She'd fancied him for ages, really fancied him. He came over and said, ‘Not so ill met by moonlight, pretty Madeleine. What's with the fairy gear?'