The Last Guest House by Caroline Mitchell

Author:Caroline Mitchell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Embla Books
Published: 2024-03-09T00:00:00+00:00

23

Elita

Oh golly. I can’t believe what’s happening. One minute I’m sitting in my chair watching all the action on screen, then out of nowhere, this little guy pops up. It’s George – the curious six-year-old who has managed to stumble upon my hidden spot. There’s dust on the shoulders of his pyjamas, and his big clunky headphones hang loosely around his neck. He looks like a cute chubby teddy bear, now he’s with me in the flesh. I’m totally caught off guard, but there is something nice about his presence that makes me relax in my seat. After a moment of awkward silence, George speaks.

‘Hi. I saw you at the window before. Who are you?’ His face is a mix of curiosity and fascination as he looks me up and down.

Standing at the guest room window was one of the most daring things I’ve done. I was so excited to see a young guest that I couldn’t help but wave. ‘I’m Elita,’ I reply softly, trying to act cool. ‘I’m impressed that you found me. What are you doing here?’

He starts shuffling his feet, a mischievous expression on his face. ‘I got bored. I hid and played my game for a while, then I followed the tunnel around. I didn’t want to listen to the grown-ups anymore.’

I can’t help but smile. The hidden places in this house have never been described as tunnels before. I suppose if you don’t know where you’re going then they can seem that way. What I don’t understand is why he’d want to leave his mum when she’s looked after him so well. Our lives are so different. Here I am, dying for some human company while all he wants is to get away. He is staring at me, mouth open, but I feel this connection, so I don’t mind. I’m happy he’s here, even if everything feels a bit uncertain right now.

Then George asks the big question. ‘Are you … are you OK?’ His stockinged feet pad against the floor as he cautiously approaches me for a better look.

His reaction could have been worse, and I like his honesty. I’d rather he ask me about my looks outright than be too scared to speak.

‘I don’t exactly fit the model, George,’ I reply, letting my swivel chair down before shuffling off the edge. ‘But don’t worry, I’m good. I’ve been hidden away here for so long, having a visitor is pretty cool.’

George glances at the shelf which is full of the lotions and eye drops that Granny makes me use. Then there’s the collection of wigs and the special cushioned shoes that stop my feet hurting on the hard floor. It’s not easy when you’re a teenager trapped in a little girl’s body, especially one like mine. I can see through George’s frown that he’s trying to understand. ‘Does it hurt?’ His words are tender, and I melt a little inside. Even though we barely know each other, he already gives a damn about me.

‘I first came here when I was around your age, like, ten years ago.

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