The Person Controller. David Baddiel

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      “But did we pay for it? How did we pay for it just by clicking on the picture?” said Fred.

      “Look. These are all questions. I’m not supposed to answer questions. But … consider it a free trial. OK?”

      Fred frowned. He could feel without looking at her – because they were twins – that Ellie was smiling. In fact, he could feel without looking at her that Ellie was just going to really happily say, “Yes, OK!”

      But he wasn’t sure they should be accepting strange gadgets from strange men on the internet. Even if the gadget did look kind of amazing. So he was about to say, “Hold on a minute, Ellie …” when he heard a voice from the corridor outside.

      “No, Morris … a bully claps sarcastically. And slowly …”

      Fred turned. He could hear footsteps from around the corner.

      “Ellie,” he said. “Isla and Morris are coming back …”

      “Oh! What shall we do?” said Ellie.

      “Just say, ‘Yes, OK!’ That’s what you were going to say anyway!!!”

      “Sar-cas-tickly,” said Morris, still outside the room but much closer now. “Right. And slowly.” Then came the sound of him practising his clapping.

      “Just do it!” Fred hissed to Ellie.

      “All right.” Ellie turned back to the screen. The Mystery Man was whistling and looking at his watch, making it very clear that he was bored with waiting for her answer.

      “Yes!” she said. “OK!”

      “Yes, OK … what?” said the Mystery Man.

      “Yes, OK, we’ll have the Controller. On a free trial.”

      The Mystery Man shook his head slowly.

      “Yes, OK, we’ll have the Controller on a free trial … what?”

      “Hey. Morris.”

      From just behind the door now.

      “Yes, Isla?”

      “Let’s go back in there. I wanna see the video-game stuff those Stone twins were looking at …”

      Fred turned to Ellie. She didn’t seem to hear them.

      “Do I really have to say please to a computer?” she said.

      “YES, YOU DO! PLEASE!” said Fred.

      She sighed and turned back towards the screen. “Yes, OK, we’ll have the Controller on a free trial … PLEASE.”

      The Mystery Man nodded, as if to say, That’s right at last – clicked his fingers and vanished.

      Ellie frowned. “Is that it? I don’t have to spend ages filling out forms and pretending to be over eightee—”

      Fred slammed the laptop shut and, swerving past Isla and Morris who were coming through the door, pulled Ellie out of the computer room.

      

      Ellie was still fretting on the way home, all the way to their front door.

      “But why didn’t we have to pay for it? How’s it going to get here? When is it going to get he—”

      “Ellie!”

      The door opened. Janine was standing there with Margaret Scratcher in one hand and, in the other, a package.

      “What’s this?” she said.

      “I don’t know,” said Ellie, going into the house.

      “It’s a package, Ellie. Something you’ve obviously bought off the internet. How many times must I tell you I don’t want you buying stuff online without asking us …?”

      Ellie frowned. “I haven’t actually bought anything off the internet …”

      “Well, it’s addressed to Ellie Stone.”

      “Hang on, Mum,” said Fred, picking up some ripped-open cardboard, “it’s addressed to you.”

      “No, that was something else that arrived at the same time. Which I did order. That.” She pointed to a pile of mail – there was always a pile of mail in the Stones’ hallway, some of which seemed to stay unopened for years – on top of which was a polythene pack, labelled ‘FATANX’.

      “What’s that?” said Ellie.

      “It’s a corset,” said Janine. “Basically.”

      “What’s a corset?” said Fred.

      “Don’t you remember?” said Ellie. “We did them at school, when they were teaching us about the Victorians. They’re these horrible tight bits of underwear that women used to have to wear to look slimmer and force their waists to be really tiny. Mum, you shouldn’t have got one of those, they’re really bad, and besides you don’t need it—”

      “It’s not for me, it’s for your father,” said Janine.

      “Oh,” said Ellie.

      “Anyway, stop changing the subject. Where did you get this from?” She held up the unopened package, the one addressed to Ellie.

      “I don’t know,” said Ellie. “I haven’t ordered anything. Has it got the address where it was sent from on it somewhere?”

      Janine squinted at the package. Then, as if it might help, she extended the arm holding Margaret Scratcher towards it, as if she – Margaret – might be able to spot something she – Janine – could not. “No. That’s odd. There’s no other writing on it.”

      “Anyway, Mum, can I have it?”

      Janine looked uncertain, but suddenly Margaret Scratcher made her move.

      Janine Stone was always, day and night, holding Margaret Scratcher. Ellie and Fred would sometimes wonder how the cat ever went for a wee or a poo, since, apart from when feeding, their mother always seemed to have her lying across her left arm. What wasn’t clear was how Margaret felt about it. Well. It was sometimes clear. Sometimes, Margaret would clearly think, What am I doing constantly hanging about on this woman’s arm? and make a bolt for it. Up Janine’s arm and round the back of her head.

      But Fred and Ellie’s mum was not one to give up easily. She would grab Margaret and hold her at arm’s length while her paws wheeled about like a furry electric fan with claws, until finally the cat calmed down, gave up and went back to sleeping on her arm.

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