“Matthew! What’s going on? Come on out and stop being so silly.”
I turned the paper this way and that, trying to work out which way was up. Another piece fell off in my hand.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
“I thought you’d be pleased! You like things clean, don’t you? Make up your bloody mind!”
BANG, BANG, BANG!
And then I saw it, barely visible along the side of the paper: I spotted his eye. His weird, droopy eye, which had watched over me for so long.
“Matthew! Are you listening to me?!”
“I heard you, Dad! Can you leave me to go to the bathroom, please, or is that too much to ask?”
I braced myself for more bangs, but he just huffed and I heard my bedroom door slam shut. I gently tore around the eye and threw the rest of the paper down the toilet, flushing it with my elbow. I carefully put the piece on the windowsill in the corner and hoped it would dry.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I washed my hands. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Thirty-seven times I washed my hands. Thirty-seven times. My worst count ever. Dad came back now and then and knocked on the door, but I told him I had an upset stomach and to go away. I heard them both murmuring on the landing and then the sounds of them shifting my mattress into the office. The cupboard door opened and Mum must have got out some clean sheets.
The Wallpaper Lion’s eye curled and crisped as it dried on the windowsill and eventually began to look like the old, yellowing eye I knew so well. I picked up the fragment, not much bigger than my thumbnail, and slipped it into my back pocket.
When I came out of the bathroom, Mum was on her knees in the office making up a bed using my mattress. She looked like she’d been crying.
“We’re just doing what we think is right for you, darling. Okay? No one is trying to upset anyone.”
I didn’t say anything and she turned back to tuck in the sheet. I went onto the landing to get a pair of gloves. Dad was still banging about in my room. I went back to the office and Mum stood up.
“Me and your dad have had a chat and your dad is right. We need to be tougher with you, Matthew, to help you get over this. I won’t be bringing food up to you anymore. We’re going to eat around the table like a proper family. Starting tonight.”
She didn’t look at me when she spoke.
“You’re seeing Dr. Rhodes on Monday. It’s a new beginning. For all of us. And you can make a start by getting rid of those gloves.”
When she said the word gloves, her head jerked toward me, but she still couldn’t bear to look in my direction. Then she walked out and went downstairs.
The latest Harrington’s catalog, the one I’d picked up for Gordon, was open on the desk at a page advertising slow cookers. Still wearing my gloves, I closed the catalog. There was a headline on the front cover: Want the Ultimate Protection from Germs? See Page 7! I casually flicked through the catalog until I reached the cleaning section. The first two pages were dedicated to a new steam mop that promised to eliminate dirt from a variety of surfaces. Mum had already bought this mop a few months ago but I’d never seen her use it, which probably meant it had ended up in the attic along with the juicer, pasta machine, and bread maker. I carried on, but the glossy pages became more and more crumpled and creased. Someone had scrawled deep, jagged lines over the bottles of disinfectant and antibacterial wipes. They’d scribbled so hard in places the paper was torn. I slammed the catalog shut and pushed it to the back of the desk. Mum must have lost her head for a moment and taken her anger out on the catalog. Shame seeped into my veins and flooded my body.
At 5:24 p.m. Dad announced loudly to the house:
“Quick! Something’s going on at the Rectory!”
I jumped up from my mattress on the floor and went to the window. The police must have taken Melody and Claudia seriously. I looked at number three, but Claudia’s car wasn’t back yet.
“This is it, Lion, this is it! They’re going to find him!” I said to the Wallpaper Eye in my pocket.
Detective Bradley and a female officer in plainclothes were standing on Old Nina’s step and appeared to be asking her some questions. She kept the large black door as closed as possible while she poked her head around the side. The female officer leaned in, her head nodding intently, and then slowly, very slowly, Old Nina opened the door and stood back as they both walked in and the door closed behind them. I could hear Mum and Dad muttering downstairs; they must have been watching as well.
I waited.
Five minutes passed. Any minute now the door would open and a grubby but happy Teddy would appear in the arms of the female officer, followed by a handcuffed Old Nina being led away by Detective Bradley. But the door remained shut. A shadow appeared behind the curtain near the orange lamp and an arm brushed against the window. Whoever it was, they seemed to be fiddling with the lamp.
Twenty minutes passed. I waited, and nothing. I heard the kettle switch on downstairs as Mum and Dad lost interest. I was just considering washing my hands again when at 6:22 p.m. the door of the Rectory opened again.
“Here we go. Come on, Teddy, where are you?”
Detective Bradley appeared first, closely followed by the other officer. They were both smiling. Any second now Teddy would appear, a little stunned but no harm done. I was surprised they weren’t carrying him though. I tried to see around their legs, looking for the lost boy, but he wasn’t there. Perhaps they’d called for backup. Is that what they did in cases like this?
They both stopped on her step and turned to face Old Nina, who stood at the threshold. I couldn’t see any handcuffs, and she didn’t seem to be following them out. She had her body turned to one side and there was something in her arms. I blinked, trying to see what it was, but Detective Bradley’s head was in the way. The female officer moved slightly to one side and then reached a hand out toward the old lady as Detective Bradley took a step backward. And then I could see exactly what it was in Old Nina’s arms. There was no toddler; there was no Teddy. She hadn’t taken him to replace her dead son—she’d just gotten herself a little companion and had been trying to hide it so she wouldn’t be evicted.
It was a kitten. A small, tabby kitten. The officer tickled it under the chin and then they walked away.
Detective Bradley glanced up at me. I swallowed. They both climbed into a black car and it slowly edged out of the close. I looked back over at the Rectory and saw the lamp in Old Nina’s window was glowing once more.
“What do you mean you’re not going?”
As he spoke, Dad jabbed his forkful of roast chicken across the kitchen table at me.
“Come on, son, spit it out. Me and your mum are dying to know why you’ve suddenly changed your mind.”
He shoveled the chicken into his mouth, dropped the fork on his plate with a clatter, and sat back, waiting for me to answer.
Up until this point things had been going quite well with my attempt at trying to eat a meal with them—my first for many months. Mum had tried to dish me up some roast chicken, salad, and potatoes, but that was just a step too far. I was quite happy with my sterile, microwave meal. The doors to the conservatory were open and Nigel was asleep on the pool table, safely out of the way. I’d started off with a bit of light chat about the cat: “So, Nigel’s still alive, I see?” I’d said, nodding toward the conservatory.
Dad smirked, a pleased look on his face at having his family all sitting around the table for a change. Plus, like me, he wasn’t a big fan of Nigel.
“Flipping cat, shedding his fur over my table.”
“Leave him alone, Brian. At least someone is getting some use out of it, aren’t you, Nigel?”
We all looked over at the sleeping, furry mound glowing yellow in the evening sunlight.
“You still owe me that game, remember, Matty? It’s not much fun playing on your own, you know.”