Mr Mumbles. Barry Hutchison

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ wasn’t that other fella,’ she said, as I cut and peeled the skin off her little sausages. She didn’t eat the skin, it gave her wind. Nan didn’t actually mind too much, but Mum and me had insisted we remove them.

      ‘What other fella?’ I asked, only half listening. I was thinking about my own dinner, which would be getting cold.

      ‘Oh, you remember,’ she clucked, knocking back another glug of sherry, ‘that friend of yours. Wassisname? Used to live in the loft, you said.’

      I heard Mum’s fork screech against her plate. She gave a cough which clearly meant ‘shut up’, but either Nan didn’t notice, or she was too tipsy to care.

      ‘Mr Mumbles,’ she announced, triumphantly. ‘That was him! Your invisible friend.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘Bless.’

      Something tingled deep within my brain, and then was gone. I glanced over at Mum, but she had her head down, her eyes focused on her plate.

      ‘I didn’t have an invisible friend,’ I frowned. ‘Did I, Mum?’

      ‘For a little while,’ Mum said, not looking up from her dinner. ‘It was a long time ago. You stopped talking about him years back.’

      I finished cutting up Nan’s meat and gave her back her knife and fork. She was already shovelling turkey into her mouth by the time I made it round to my side of the table.

      Me and Mum had taken the table through to the living room so we could eat in front of the fire. Normally we just ate on our laps, but Christmas dinner was special.

      Still wracking my brains, I lowered myself back on to my chair and popped a chunk of carrot in my mouth. It tasted better than carrot had any right to taste. How did Mum do it?

      ‘I don’t remember,’ I shrugged, at last.

      ‘You were only four or five,’ Mum explained. ‘A long time ago. It’s no surprise you’ve forgotten.’

      ‘Used to talk about him all the time,’ said Nan, her mouth half full of mashed potato. ‘Mr Mumbles this, it was. Mr Mumbles that.’

      ‘Leave it, Mum,’ my mum said. ‘He doesn’t remember, let’s leave it at that.’

      ‘He used to live in the loft, you said,’ Nan continued, completely ignoring her. ‘You used to say he’d knock on your bedroom window when he wanted to play. Remember, Fiona?’

      Mum glared at her. ‘Leave it, I said.’

      ‘Knock, knock!’

      ‘Mum! Enough!’

      Nan pulled a face, and silence fell over the table. I mopped up some gravy with a slice of turkey and slipped it in my mouth. Something stirred at the back of my mind.

      ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Was there…did he have a hat?’

      ‘Let’s just forget it, Kyle,’ Mum urged.

      ‘There’s something…I think I remember something about a hat.’

      ‘I said forget it!’ Mum snapped. She slammed her hand down on the table, making the salt and pepper cellars leap into the air.

      ‘O-OK,’ I muttered, too shocked to argue. Mum’s knife and fork were trembling in her hands as she got stuck back into her turkey. Something about me having an imaginary friend had clearly upset her.

      But why?

      ‘Bye, Nan,’ I smiled, kissing her on her wrinkled cheek. We were exactly the same size these days. She was shrinking as fast as I was growing, and we were now passing each other as our heights headed in opposite directions.

      ‘What?’ She looked at me, her eyes narrowed, her voice a suspicious hiss.

      ‘Urn…I just said ‘bye’.’

      ‘Who are you?’ she demanded, fiercely. ‘I don’t know you. Where’s Albert? What have you done with my Albert?’

      Nan spoke about Albert lots when she was confused. Not even Mum knew who he was. The best she could figure out was that Albert must have been some childhood friend of Nan’s, but there was no way of knowing for sure. When Nan was her normal self she had no idea who Albert was, either.

      ‘Come on,’ said Mum, gently, as she guided Nan out of the house and into the chill darkness of the December night. ‘Time we were getting you back.’

      ‘Back where? What are you doing?’ Nan spat, struggling against Mum’s grip. ‘Albert! Albert!’

      No matter how many times I’d seen Nan have one of her episodes, it still shook me up. Mum’s face was grey, her lips pursed together, as she tried to guide her mother towards the car.

      ‘Come on, Mum,’ she urged, forcing a smile.

      ‘Right you are, love,’ Nan replied. The smile was back on her face. Her eyes had their old twinkle again. As quickly as it had come on, the confusion had passed. She turned to me and gave a little wave. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart,’ she beamed.

      ‘Merry Christmas, Nan.’

      ‘Oh, and Kyle, be careful,’ she said. ‘There’s a storm coming.’

      ‘I think it’s passed,’ I said, gently. The winds had been howling and the rain battering down for days in the lead up to Christmas, but now it was calm – cold and frosty, but calm.

      ‘Oh, but they come back,’ warned Nan. Her face had taken on a strange, sombre expression. ‘They always come back.’

      ‘OK,’ I said, humouring her. ‘Bye.’

      She gave me a nod and turned to Mum. ‘Can I bring the sherry?’

      ‘I think you’ve had quite enough for now,’ Mum said, releasing her grip on Nan’s arm. ‘The nurses are going to kill me when they see the state of you!’

      Nan cackled and gave me a theatrical wink. Without a word she turned and wandered off, swaying slightly in the chill evening gloom.

      ‘Least it didn’t last long this time. She’s been pretty good, considering,’ Mum whispered to me. ‘You sure you’ll be OK on your own? You can always come with us.’

      ‘I’ll be fine.’

      ‘OK, well, I shouldn’t be more than an hour. I’ll just get her in and let the nurses put her to bed.’

      ‘Can’t she just stay here?’ I asked.

      ‘The doctors don’t like it if she’s gone overnight,’ Mum said. I could tell from her face she felt bad about it. ‘We’ll play a board game or something when I get back, OK?’

      ‘OK, but really, there’s no rush,’ I assured her. ‘I’ll be fine here on my own.’

      She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. She was halfway to the gate when a thought struck her.

      ‘Do СКАЧАТЬ