He felt the urge to run after Mummy and Uncle Darren. But he must not do that. Mummy would get mad. He would get another beating, from her or from Uncle Darren.
He stared the way that they had gone. Darker now. If only the tent were here, to crawl inside. Last night he had felt so safe and snug, even when the light was turned way low. He could hear them, whispering in the darkness. It made him so warm and contented.
“Are you absolutely sure?” That was Mummy, in the same slurry voice. “I have to be absolutely sure.”
“Course I am. I checked the whole thing with the game authorities. I pretended to be scared.”
“I thought all the animals were controlled.”
“That’s what the advertisements say, but the controls go off when it’s really dark. That’s why they always tell you to keep a light on all night in the tent.
“What do you think is out there? Right now.”
“Hey, how would I know? Get your mind off that sort of stuff”
There was a rustle from where Mummy lay, and she giggled. “You! You’re all hands. But what might be out there?”
“Lions, maybe. Leopards. Rhinos.” (That made him listen harder. He had seen pictures of those animals.) “And jackals and hyenas and vultures. That’s why we don’t go outside in the dark. Make a noise out there, or go running around, and there’d be nothing tomorrow to collect and take back. Hey, why the questions all of a sudden? I thought we had it agreed.”
“I just want to be absolutely sure it will work. Otherwise we’d have been better off with a straight sale. There’s good money for a healthy one, down in the warrens.”
“Not a hundredth as much as we’ll get. They’ll pay just to keep us quiet. Here, Miss Fidgety, you need a bit more of this.”
There was a clink of glass, and the gurgling sound of pouring liquid. Uncle Darren laughed. “They’ll pay, of course they will. What sort of publicity would it give the game reserve if we wanted to play it for news? Wandered away for a few minutes, frantic mother, desperate search. Maybe even a mental breakdown afterwards. That would be news.”
“Sshh. Watch what you’re saying.”
“So what, for Christ’s sake? At his age.”
“He’s very smart. He could be listening, and he remembers everything.”
“Naw, he’s asleep. Very smart, eh? How did he pick you for a mother?’
“Don’t start that again. It was the biggest mistake of my life. Don’t you pretend to be so smart, either. If you’re so clever, how did you get hooked into that idiot marriage contract, you and the bitch?”
“Come off it, Lucy. That’s all over, I don’t even think about her any more. Look, once we get some money there’ll be no more false starts. You and me, right? And . … you know …”
“What are you doing/ You’re awful.” But Mummy did not sound angry. “You said I was all hands. I just want to prove that’s not all I am.”
“Again?” Mummy giggled. “You. You’re a monomaniac.”
The light from the lamp in the tent dwindled to an even lower level. There was a rustling, and something like a soft groan from Mummy. Uncle Darren began a soft, regular grunting sound that was not his usual snoring …
And now it was nearly night again. Over beyond the top of the high grass he could see the big hill, as far away as ever. It always seemed to be the same distance, and when they walked it moved along with them. When it was close to dark he could see the smoke on top of it. It was there now, with the red sun behind it.
He stepped a little way in that direction, then came back. The grass was too tall, too frightening.
The sun seemed to be dropping down into the top of the grass, melting into it. Suddenly he could not see the grass itself. The sky was almost black, with stars scattered bright across it.
“Mummy.” He shouted as loud as he could into the swallowing dark, and started to run in the direction in which they had gone. Then he thought of the lamp, left behind him on the ground. He hurried back for it and turned it on. It threw a bright circle all around him, except behind his back. When he turned his head to look he saw a wedge of darkness, a long shadow cast by his own body. He moved backwards with the lamp, and the circle of light moved with him.
That lighted circle had become the whole world. Beyond its edge he began to hear the night noises. There were mutterings and growls in the darkness, the chuckling of madmen just out of sight. He struggled to see anything beyond the shadowed perimeter. (“Lions and leopards and rhinos, jackals and hyenas and vultures …” Uncle Darren’s words were clear in his head. “Make a noise out there, or go running around, and there’d be nothing tomorrow to collect and take back…”)
He shouldn’t have shouted like that. He mustn’t shout. Where could Mummy be? He had never been alone before.
He began to weep, slow, silent tears that trickled down his cheeks and into his mouth. He could taste their salt.
He wanted to scream for Mummy, but he knew that he must not. Behind him there was a slithering noise, and the soft rustle of moving grass. (Lions and leopards and rhinos, jackals and hyenas and vultures.) He held the lamp tight, and started forward across the clearing away from the noises. The edge of darkness pursued him. He thought that he heard new noises coming from in front.
He stopped and crouched close to the ground. The light from the tamp in his hand seemed to be weakening, the boundary of the safe circle smaller and more poorly defined. He bit on his fingers, and stared out into the night.
Were those eyes there, flashing glints of green and yellow? As the lamp faded, they became brighter. Soon the eyes were staring in on him from all sides. He pushed with his hands at the dark boundary, hating it, wishing it farther away.
Suddenly he could not stand it any longer. He did not run, but he dropped to the ground and flattened his body. He scrabbled with his fingers at the hard dirt and glared upward. Far away on the horizon, the top of the big hill was glowing with its own smoky red light. He fixed his eyes on it, afraid to look again at the narrowing circle.
“Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, Mummy.” He said the incantation over and, over, beneath his breath. “Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, Mummy …” She was the only thing he had to hold onto in the whole world. But he dared not call out to her (Make a noise out there, or go running around, and there’d be nothing tomorrow to collect and take back…). He dared not even whimper.
He lay on the ground and shivered. He must not cry. He must not cry. He will not cry. She will come back soon . … she will come back soon … she will come back soon . …
Esro Mondrian does not know it, but dawn and rescue are ten hours away.
The sale to the basement warrens of the Gallimaufries will take place a few days later.
Tatty was talking to him, gripping him by the shoulders. “Chan. What s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“I can cry. I can, it’s all right.” Chan closed his mouth and snuffled in hard through his nose. “It’s all right.”
She put her arms around him. “What happened?”
“Memories. I know why Esro Mondrian couldn’t trust anything in the world. I know why he needed the Constructs so badly.”
They both became aware that Tatty was holding him to her chest. She released him and went back to the hassock. They were oddly embarrassed. She had been his first-ever lover, even if no more than a surrogate.
