Pseudotooth by Verity Holloway

Author:Verity Holloway
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781907389429
Publisher: Unsung Stories
Published: 2016-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

19

She dreamed of Doctor Ross’s office, of the international ornaments above his desk. I’m going, she wanted to tell him. I’ve gone. And in the dream, the boy Feodor slouched beside her. He had traipsed some kind of pink, noxious gunk all over the sterile hospital floor and was playing with a plastic cigarette lighter. Flick. Flick.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he told her.

When Aisling opened her eyes, Chase was sitting on the steps leading down to her bed.

‘You were talking in your sleep,’ he said.

‘About what?’

He wouldn’t say. ‘You’ll need this.’

It was still night. She got out of bed, already dressed, and he presented her with a bundled-up coat of green wool with military piping on the cuffs. It was too broad across the chest and made her hands look minute, which would have pleased Beverley. ‘You’re not that mannish,’ she’d tell her, ‘not really.’

‘I love the pockets.’

‘You can fit books in them,’ said Chase. ‘I thought of that.’

A fanfare of snoring from the living room made them both freeze guiltily. They grinned at each other.

‘Don’t get too excited, all right?’ he whispered.

‘I’m ready.’

He jerked a thumb at the living room. ‘If Tor wakes up, we’re scuppered. Georgie not so much, but I’ll have to sweet-talk him into keeping schtum later. If we leave now, we’ll be in town by dawn. We’ll have a quick look around before it gets too crowded and be back here by breakfast. I’ll say I took you foraging. Is this what you want? Is this okay?’

She nodded tersely. He was moving too slowly for her liking.

The tree at the boundary lurked like guilt. She was struck by the brightness of the stars here. Without the malignant glare of light pollution she could make out constellations she had never seen before, and even a reddish speck that may have been a planet. In the enormity of the universe, one night of sneaking out wouldn’t make a difference. The brightest star blinked at her, as if in agreement.

Once they were up the hill where their voices wouldn’t travel, Chase began to natter. He was nervous, pointing out the leaves most likely to give you a high if you smoked them, and the yellow eyes of the toads squatting in the grass. She wanted to savour every detail of the forest at night, but Chase kept a marching pace.

Dawn crept in and lightened the forest enough for them to travel side by side on a well-beaten path. Chase began to relax. ‘Give us a poem,’ he said. ‘Do the one about the madman. About the night. I want to learn that one.’

‘Mad Song?’

‘Mad Song!’

Aisling willingly recited:

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