The World According to Bertie

his waiting room so that people can read it before they go in to talk to him. I like reading Scottish Field because it has pictures of dogs and castles in it, and also pictures of people having fun.

Often I see a picture of Mr Roddy Martine in it and also Mr Charlie Maclean. They go to parties and have lots of fun. I am not sure what they do apart from having fun, but I still think that they are quite busy.

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Dr Fairbairn does not have much fun. I think that this is because he knows that they are going to send him to Carstairs one day. That is where they send all the really dangerous mad people. I think that they have booked a place for him there, but he is not ready to go just yet. Mummy will probably visit him there because she likes talking to him and she will miss him when he gets sent to Carstairs.

When she is not talking to Dr Fairbairn, Mummy likes going to the floatarium in Stockbridge. That is where she floats, in a special tank that makes you feel as if you are lying down on top of something. Mummy took Dr Fairbairn to the floatarium one day to show him how to float. I think that the tank is big enough for two people. Dr Fairbairn liked it because he seemed much more cheerful afterwards and did not just talk about ink-blots and dreams. Mummy said I should not tell Daddy about how we took Dr Fairbairn to the floatarium, as that would make Daddy want to go too and he would not like floating as much as Dr Fairbairn liked it. Mummy said that Daddy is happier with sums and numbers and that is the best thing for him to do.

My brother Ulysses looks just like Dr Fairbairn, but I do not think that he is mad like him. My friend Tofu tells me that there are lots of mad babies in Carstairs and that they have special padded playpens for them. I am not sure if this is true, because Tofu tells a lot of fibs and you never know when he is fibbing.

One day his pants will go on fire and that will serve him right for all those fibs he has told.

We do not have any pets. I would like to have a dog, and a cat too. I would also like a rabbit and a hedgehog. Mummy says that all of these things are smelly and are best left in the wild.

She says that dogs are really wolves and would be happier in the forest. She said that cats hate people and are spiteful too.

She says that rabbits are an evolutionary mistake and that hedgehogs have lots of fleas. So I am not allowed to have any of these animals.

There is a dog who lives in Drummond Place. He belongs 318 The World of Bertie – in His Own Words to a man called Mr Lordie, who paints pictures and who smells of turpentine. The dog is really nice. He is called Cyril and he has a gold tooth. When he opens his mouth to stick out his tongue you can see the gold tooth inside. He is a very smiley dog and everybody in Scotland Street, where I live, likes him, except for Mummy, because Cyril bit her when she called him bad and smelly. He was arrested for biting other people, but it was not him, and they got him out of the pound before they shot him. Now he is back and can go to the Cumberland Bar again. That is where people go to drink beer in the evenings. You cannot go there unless you are eighteen.

There is a different rule for dogs. Dogs can go there even if they are only one.

When I am eighteen I am going to go to live in Glasgow or Australia, or maybe Paris, where I have already been. Once I went to Glasgow and I met a very fat man there called Mr O’Connor. Mr O’Connor eats deep-fried Mars bars and is very proud of Glasgow. Mummy did not like him when he came to see us, but my Daddy likes him, a bit.

That is everything about me. I am happy with my life except for some things. I do not want to have anymore psychotherapy and I do not want to go to yoga anymore. I would like to go out with my Dad more and I would like Olive not to come and play at my house. I would like to have some nice friends, nicer than Tofu, and I would like to make a fort in the gardens with these friends. I would also like to go fishing with my friends, on a boat, but I cannot do that now because I do not have a boat and I do not have those friends yet.

I think the world is nice. I think that it is very sad that there are people who are unkind to one another. I also think that it is sad that there are people who want to kill other people just because they do not like them. I think that we should share things, and not be selfish, like Tofu.

Miss Harmony was a very kind teacher. We all loved her and she was very kind to us. I hope that wherever she is she

Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost 319

is happy. I want her to come back, though. I want things to be the same again and for everybody to be happy. That is what I want.

Bertie Pollock (6).

94. Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost Domenica had arranged to meet her old friend Dilly Emslie for coffee in the Patisserie Florentin in North West Circus Place. They had last met shortly after Domenica’s return from the Malacca Straits, and Domenica had given Dilly an account of her anthropological research project among contemporary pirates – a project that had ultimately led to the discovery that the pirates stole intellectual property rather than anything else. Dilly had greeted this news with some relief; it was she who had encouraged Domenica to take on a new piece of research in the first place, although she had not envisaged that she would choose to work among pirates. Had Domenica come to an unfortunate end, she would have felt a certain responsibility, and so now, if Domenica again showed signs of itchy feet, she would certainly not give her any encouragement.

320 Some Battles Are Destined to Be Lost The two old friends had much to discuss.

“I take it that everybody behaved themselves while I was off in the Malacca Straits,” said Domenica, as she contemplated a small Italian biscuit that had been placed on the side of her plate.

“I’m afraid so,” said Dilly. “Or if they didn’t, then word hasn’t reached me yet.”

Domenica sighed. “So disappointing. That’s Edinburgh’s one, tiny little fault: most people behave rather well.”

“On the surface,” said Dilly, smiling. “But there are some people who are still capable of surprising one.”

“Next door, for example,” said Domenica. “My erstwhile friend, Antonia – she of the work-in-progress on the lives of the Scottish saints, and, incidentally, the person who removed a blue Spode teacup from my flat, but that’s another story – she has just finished an affair with a Polish builder, would you believe it? A man who had only one word of English, and that was

‘brick.’”

“The strong and almost silent type,” said Dilly.