The Goldfish Boy

“Mum! Dad! Quick! It’s Teddy!”

I ran down the stairs and out the front door and onto our driveway. The sharp concrete made me wince as I walked barefoot toward the garden fence. Teddy had crossed the lawn and was now jumping up and down ecstatically as he saw me. I stared at him, and for a second I wondered if he was a ghost. It was getting lighter now, and a solitary bird began to chirp loudly.

“Teddy?”

He looked well. Really, really well. He looked tired and his eyes were red and his hair looked like it could do with a good wash, but apart from that he looked completely unharmed. He stopped jumping and bent down to rip up a fistful of grass, which he held out as if to feed me. I walked toward him, hypnotized by his fat, little hand. The light from our hallway came on as Mum and Dad surfaced.

“Teddy,” I said. “Where have you been? Who-who took you? Are you all right? Where have you been, Teddy?”

He wasn’t interested in my questions and was more excited about trying to feed me with a handful of grass.

“Eat, Fishy. Eat!”

I quickly scanned my neighbors’ houses. They were all in darkness and no cars were missing. Behind Teddy I could see Mr. Charles’s gate was tightly shut. I took a step back and turned to face the middle of the cul-de-sac. Inhaling a huge lungful of air, I shouted at the houses with all my might: “TEDDY’S BACK!”





If Mum had thought Melissa Dawson had hugged Casey hard when she’d returned from America, then she should have seen her hug Teddy. It was as if she were trying to inhale him, trying to absorb him into her bloodstream. After my shout she had been the first to appear, stumbling toward her son and grabbing him. She buried her head into his neck and sobbed. Teddy looked at me across his mum’s shoulder and scowled; he couldn’t try and feed me now. As everyone began to surface I went back inside. Mum and Dad came out our front door, virtually pushing each other out of the way to try and see what was going on.

“What’s that? Teddy’s back? Where? How did he get there?”

Mr. Charles appeared, followed by a bleary-eyed Casey. She took one look at Teddy and burst into tears, hiding her face in her grandfather’s legs.

I went upstairs and watched everything else from the office. Melody and her mum appeared with Frankie yapping at their feet. They laughed and hugged each other when they saw the toddler in Melissa’s arms. Someone must have called the police, because a patrol car appeared and two officers got out, talking urgently into their radios. The black door of the Rectory opened and Old Nina walked down her step. In her hand she held a small, blue, knitted blanket, just like the one that Teddy had been holding on the day he’d disappeared. She’d been making one all along, just as I’d suspected. Walking across to number eleven in her slippers, she held her head high and focused on Melissa. Teddy’s mum took the blanket with a thank-you, then smothered her boy’s head and face with a million kisses. There was only one house that was still in darkness. Penny and Gordon’s.

I lay back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, listening to the excited voices outside. There was a question being asked over and over by the crowd.

“Where have you been, Teddy?”

“Teddy, tell us!”

“Was it a lady or a man?”

“Answer us, sweetheart!”

“Teddy, who took you away from us?”

There was silence for a moment, and I pictured his hand pointing toward Penny and Gordon’s house, but then he replied with just one word: “Fishy!”





“Look, I didn’t take Teddy Dawson! He just likes me because his sister called me a goldfish once and they used to point at me when I was looking out the window, that’s all!”

Detective Bradley narrowed his eyes.

“I see,” he said. “It’s just that every time we’ve asked Teddy where he’s been and who took him, he just gives us the one answer.” He paused for a moment as he looked down at his notepad, and then he looked back up at me.

“Fishy.”

I groaned and sat back.

“You’re the ‘fishy’ he’s talking about, aren’t you, Matthew? Did you tell him that was your name?”

“No! Why would I call myself that? I’ve never even spoken to the kid!”

Mum put a hand on my shoulder and I flinched.

“Calm down, Matthew. You’re not being accused of anything.”

“Well, if I’m not, then why are they asking me these questions, Mum?” I looked at the policeman sitting in my kitchen. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you out there searching the other houses?”

Dad was standing by the kettle. So far he hadn’t said anything. Detective Bradley looked down at his notepad.

“We only search properties where we feel there is a justified reason, and at the moment, none of your neighbors are suspects. Why did you tell Mr. Charles you thought Mrs. Nina Fennell at the Rectory had taken him?”

I needed to wash. My skin tingled from the germs crawling around on my skin.

“Matthew?” said Mum.

“We also had a visit from Ms. Claudia Bird and her daughter, Melody, down at the station. Ms. Bird also stated that you were making accusations against Nina Fennell. Is that correct?”

“Matthew!” said Mum. “I told you Old Nina didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“B-but how could you be sure, Mum?”

Mum could see that I was close to tears. She turned her attention to the policeman.

“How is Teddy, detective? Has he been hurt?”

He shook his head.

“He’s fine. He’s been taken to the hospital to be checked over, but the initial signs are that he’s extremely well and appears unharmed. His clothes will be sent off for forensic tests, and that will hopefully tell us more about where he’s been.”

When he mentioned the forensic tests his eyes fixed on my hands, on my latex gloves. The gloves that wouldn’t show any fingerprints. I slipped my hands off the table and onto my lap.

“Am I a suspect, detective? I’m in this house ninety percent of the time. How on earth could I kidnap and hide a toddler without anyone knowing? Without my parents knowing?”

Detective Bradley looked at my mum, his face searching for any clues that she was somehow in on this, and then he quickly glanced at my dad.

“You were the last person to see Teddy, Matthew, and now you’re the first person to see him return. And both times you didn’t see anyone else?”

“No!”

“And the time you saw him when he went missing. Did he call up at you then? When you were watching from the window?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Just like a goldfish. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Detective, how old is Teddy?” Dad was joining in the conversation at last. I gave him a weak smile.

Detective Bradley looked a little taken aback at the question.

“Well, he’s a toddler. He’s …” He consulted his notes again. “Fifteen months old.”

“Do you have kids, detective?”

“I do, Mr. Corbin, yes. A boy aged three.”

Dad smiled.

“Ah, that’s lovely. So it wasn’t that long ago when he was learning to talk, no?”

“I, erm, no. No, it wasn’t that long ago.”

Dad folded his arms.

“Well, I’m no expert, but I would have thought a child aged fifteen months wouldn’t generally have much vocabulary. Would you, Sheila?”

I twisted my head around, my eyes pleading for Mum to back him up, and she burst into action.

“That’s right! Well, when Matthew was that age he wasn’t even talking at all! I think his first words were bum-bum, and that wasn’t until he was at least eighteen months old. And he only ever said that when he’d dirtied his diaper. I was so desperate for him to say Mummy that I got quite upset about it, didn’t I, Brian?”

On second thought, I kind of wished Mum had kept her mouth shut.

Detective Bradley looked thoroughly fed up.

“Okay, okay. Look, Mr. and Mrs. Corbin, I’m just here because I want to get an idea why young Teddy has become so attached to your son. That’s all it is.”

He laid his palms flat on the kitchen table.

“Now, Matthew. Just one more question before I leave, and then you can get on with your day.”

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