His name was Milton, and he was given to bad jokes.
‘Tell the Minister, I would like to be told when she reappears. It may be a joke to you, but she has no money, and she has to eat!’
Milton was not used to high emotion of any sort. His face went blank and slack as Milena marched away.
She went to the Zoo Cafe. She talked to the plump and surly woman who washed all the cups and filled them with tea. Had she seen a very tall woman? Milena asked her. Had anyone come in begging for food, someone perhaps who needed a shave? The woman looked at Milena through swollen, puffy eyes and shook her head.
Milena visited all the pubs, all the kaffs on the South Bank, up along the Cut and back towards the Elephant. Had they seen a very tall woman, not Rhodopsin? The Tykes behind the bars looked surprised. ‘I think we would have remembered,’ they said. Milena crossed the bridges and tried the north. She went to the Comedy Restaurant. Rolfa had been in none of the shops, none of the stalls. She wasn’t drinking. She wasn’t eating.
Milena went back to her room, and found Cilia waiting for her.
‘Well?’ Cilia asked. Milena slumped down next to her on the bed.
‘Nothing. Oh Cill, there’s nothing!’ Exhausted, Milena lay down, the back of her head on Cilia’s lap. Cilia began to stroke her hair.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Cilia. ‘She’s just working it all out. Don’t you remember after you were Read? All those new viruses hitting you on the head all at once? It takes a while to sort through the new filing system.’
No, Milena did not remember.
‘She hasn’t come out to eat, Cill! She’s not like us, she’s not Rhodopsin. She hasn’t eaten in six days.’
Then Milena had a thought. ‘Oh Marx and Lenin.’ She sat up and turned around. ‘Bears hibernate. It’s a response to stress. They go to sleep and hibernate.’
‘Then that’s fine, she’ll sort things out that way.’
‘No, no. They have to build up reserves of fat first. If they go under while they’re hungry, they starve to death in their sleep. I mean she hadn’t eaten properly for weeks when she left.’
‘Oops,’ said Cilia, who had recently looked into Rolfa’s famished eyes. ‘You think she’ll the.’ There was a pause, a stillness in the air between them. ‘I’ll go upstairs and get my coat,’ said Cilia. ‘I’ve got some oats for porridge, I can bring those, and I think some soy sausages.’
‘I don’t have anything,’ said Milena, and raised her hands and let them fall.
‘Where would she go to sleep?’
‘Anywhere quiet and dark.’
They got help and candles. Berowne, the Princess, the King, all of the players. They went to all of the unoccupied rooms of the Shell, where people had recently died. They all went out together, and looked in every corner of the Graveyard, between the racks. ‘What a place!’ they all exclaimed. The King, particularly liked it. ‘A good place to hide,’ he said. He had put on one of the sequined jackets. Milena thanked them all and said goodnight to them, hugged them with gratitude. She and Cilia kept on looking.
They went to the night market, that Rolfa had always visited. The stallowners were still singing songs and piling up mounds of spice-paste or feather cushions. No, the stallowners said, they hadn’t seen the big one. They knew who Milena meant, but no, she had not been around for the last few days. The stallowners were moving mountains of fur, covered against the autumn chill and Milena kept thinking they were Rolfa. Finally she and Cilia rested in a kaff. They ate hot spicy chicken and warmed their hands around mugs of tea.
‘We’ll find her,’ promised Cilia. ‘All of us. We’ll do it.’ She kept nodding yes, to the steamy cafe windows. They walked back arm in arm to the Shell.
‘You get some sleep, love,’ Milena said to Cilia.
Then Milena turned and walked across the Hungerford, across town. She went to South Ken, to the house of the Family.
You do not have to like me, Milena thought, as she knocked once again on the door of Rolfa’s house. I don’t have to like you, either. You only need to tell me if Rolfa is with you — or help me find her.
The door opened, as if by itself. Behind it, a huge old Polar woman stood on crutches. Her fur was white and smoky yellow and hung in satiny strands.
‘Rolfa? Rolfa? She’s still with you Squidges, in’t she?’ The old dam spoke to someone still hidden behind the door. ‘Shawnee?’ she asked. There was a low murmuring reply. Milena couldn’t hear because the old woman suddenly snorted back mucus and then swallowed with a noisy gulp. There were smears of mucus on the fur of her arms.
‘Yep. Yep. She’s gone. Where is Rolfa? Don’t know!’ The old woman shifted on her crutches, and suddenly Milena saw that she was miserable. ‘Seems like they would have told me if she was back.’ She breathed heavily, a deep sigh, as if her bulk made breathing difficult. ‘I am her mother, after all.’
‘You’re Rolfa’s mother?’ Milena felt something like dismay.
‘You’re the Cold Little Fish, ahn’t you?’ said Rolfa’s mother, not at all unkindly. ‘Why don’t you come inside?’
‘I’m very sorry. It’s cold for me inside.’ October winds buffeted Milena, blowing her scarf over her head.
‘Looks pretty cold for you out there too. I can’t stand up, honey, and I’d like to talk to you.’
The mother Bear turned. She swung herself on her crutches towards a packing case and began to lower herself onto it. From behind the door, a little human maid in billowing furs scuttled forward and took the old woman’s arm. Milena stepped forward to help as well.
‘They made this over into my room. Nice, in’t it?’ the old dam said.
Milena said that she agreed. The front room was as cold as Milena remembered it and even more stark. It was now completely bare, except for the packing cases. The old dam asked for tea and the human maid scurried away to fetch some. For just an instant her frightened eyes caught Milena’s.
‘I had to go and break my leg,’ complained the GE. ‘And end up in this place. I just feel like some old walrus who can’t pull her bulk around. It really is time I was put down. You sit by me, honey, and keep warm.’
Milena did, and Rolfa’s mother enveloped her in a hug.
‘You’re the one who wants to help Rolfa sing, ahn’t you?’
The familiar smell of lanolin and the familiar, basking warmth.
‘Yes, Mam,’ Milena said. She found herself using the honorific.
‘Well that’s good. Rolfa never was meant for anywhere, unless it was someplace she could sing. I’d have helped her too, but I couldn’t stand this place. Couldn’t stand it, you understand me? I expect Rolfa’s just the same.’ She paused. ‘There’s trouble, in’t there? She’s done another bunk.’
‘They tried to cure her,’ said Milena.
‘Of what? Being Rolfa?’ The old dam seemed to know, instantly, what Milena meant.
Milena could only nod.
‘Well her father will be happy with that. That’s the biggest favour you people could have done him. I’m not happy though.’
‘Neither am I,’ whispered Milena.
‘Aw, hell, honey, I can see that. You want some whisky?’
Milena shook her head. ‘She’s disappeared. I think she’s hibernating again. But she was very hungry when she left.’
The bottle paused in mid-air. Again, the old woman understood: Rolfa was in danger.
‘I was hoping she was here,’ Milena said, and even to herself her voice sounded drained and hopeless.
‘Well, we’ll just have to go and look for her.’ Rolfa’s mother looked at Milena. ‘We may have to bring in the rest of the Family, though. People are going to be pretty mad.’
‘I know,’ murmured Milena, and braced herself.
Zoe was the first to come down the stairs.
‘You did what?’ Zoe demanded.
‘We gave her the viruses. It was the only way.’
‘You gave my sister your horrible Squidgey viruses?’
Milena felt herself cringe. ‘It was a pre-condition of her performing. I’m sorry. It was a mistake. It was the only way I had to get her into the Zoo.’
