Property of a Lady

‘I like animals.’


‘Cats? Ellie loves cats. She likes hearing about my cat,’ said Michael. ‘His name’s Wilberforce, and he’s always getting into trouble.’ Without realizing he was going to do so, he started to relate one of the adventures he made up for Ellie – the one where Wilberforce got mixed up with the mice’s redecoration of their home.

Beth’s small face was instantly absorbed, and she laughed when Wilberforce ended up sitting in the paint pot, very indignant, with scarlet paint on his whiskers.

‘I’ll send you a photograph of him, shall I?’

‘Can it be on the computer? I’m allowed to use it after homework.’

‘Yes, certainly.’ He could send Beth one of the photos he had sent to Ellie. He would tell Ellie about this possible British friend waiting to meet her, as well. He finished the cup of tea, then got up and said, firmly, he would leave them to it.

‘I’m so grateful to you,’ said Nell as they went down to the shop. ‘I loved the story of your cat, by the way. Beth did, as well.’

Choosing his words carefully, Michael said, ‘That nightmare . . . For a child to think there’s someone in her room – someone standing there watching her while she’s asleep – would be terrifying. It would spook me, never mind a child.’

‘It’s the recurrent theme,’ said Nell. ‘I don’t know if it indicates a lack of security – whether I should get medical advice. Whether it’s something to do with her father dying last year—’ She broke off, and Michael saw her eyes flinch as if from a too-bright light. She said, ‘Beth insists the man who comes into her room has no eyes.’

Michael had been reaching for the door, but at these words he felt as if something cold had clutched at his throat. He turned back. ‘What did you say?’

‘The man in the nightmare has no eyes.’ She had half-turned away, and without looking at him, she said, ‘Last year my – Beth’s father was killed in a car crash. It – the impact of the crash – penetrated his eyes. Tore them out completely.’

‘Oh no,’ said Michael, appalled. ‘Nell, I’m so sorry. And you think that’s what’s triggering Beth’s nightmares?’

‘She doesn’t know any of the details of Brad’s death,’ said Nell.

‘Are you sure? Could she have overheard somebody talking?’

‘Well, I’m as sure as I can be. The only other people who knew were the coroner and our GP in London and they certainly didn’t tell her.’

‘Could it be a form of telepathy?’ said Michael after a moment. ‘Could she have picked it up from you?’

‘I suppose it’s just about possible. It’s the only explanation, isn’t it?’ She finally turned round to look at him.

‘Yes,’ said Michael very firmly. ‘It’s the only explanation.’

He left for Oxford late next morning, calling in at the shop on his way to see if Beth had recovered.

‘Entirely,’ said Nell. ‘She went to bed talking about Wilberforce and the mice, and she slept all the way through till breakfast, then got up and ate a huge bowl of porridge and honey.’

Michael smiled at the thought of the small, grave Beth, diligently eating an A.A. Milne breakfast. He said, ‘That’s great. I’ll send the photo later today. Have you got a card or something with your email— Thanks. I’ll email Liz as well and tell her I’ve met you and that I might have found a friend for Ellie.’

‘Beth’s pleased at the thought of meeting Ellie,’ said Nell. ‘It’s taken her mind away from the nightmare. You’re very good with children. Have you any of your own?’

‘No,’ said Michael. ‘I haven’t got a wife either, so it’s just as well about the children.’ He grinned at her.