Golden Words

12: Enemy

"Rosemary. Come on."

I don't. I won't. Normally, she'd probably try to just pull me away from the window and my beautiful Jacqueline/Gwendolyn/Yolanda, but last time she tried that I just screamed.

I heard Patricia talking to Mum about me one night. Obviously that happens a lot but this time it was different. I heard her voice go all choked and tearful when she said, "She never pays any attention to me anymore. She's not like this with you... I just, she just ignores me. It's like she doesn't even see me! It makes me feel like she hates me."

It made me feel a bit bad at first. I wondered if I should creep into her bed and stroke her hair like she used to do for me when I had bad dreams.

But then I remembered her voice and that awful other girl's voice, talking together, and my tummy clenched up so that I thought I was going to vomit. I wanted to go out there and hit them both when Mum said something about me going through a rebellious phase. Patricia complained about me until I thought I would scream ("She won't let me help her with her clothes, and she always does her buttons wrong," "She screams if I try to touch her," "She won't even let me tidy up her half of the room"). Eventually Mum told her not to be such a whinger. I was glad, glad, glad.

I couldn't get to sleep after that and I got a bit less glad when Patricia eventually came to bed and snapped off the nightlight and I could hear her crying in the dark.

I was still glad though.

Patricia is silent behind me now.

I hear Robert breathe out longingly and glance over at him. He's looking at a large brown bear toy with a red bow on its neck, his misty eyes matching the fogged-up glass.

This is the best toy shop in the world. There's beautiful Jacqueline/Gwendolyn/Yolanda, of course, and the brown bear Robert likes. The bear looks soft, with thick fur. That would be good. Muffin's fur has got matted and sticky and Mum made me leave Muffin at home so she can wash it.

There are other toys in the window that are just as magical: a plastic baby with an alarmingly realistic face, an old-fashioned doll in a powder-blue bonnet, a tiny little doll-sized wicker chair- so many good things!

What is this shop called? I will want to get a doll here- maybe my Jacqueline/Gwendolyn/Yolanda! I just can't remember what the big black letters on the sign said.

I take a few steps back. My foot catches on an uneven bit of pavement- and I fall.

I lie on my back on the asphalt, blinking. I'm spread out like a starfish, and all my limbs feel a bit weird and tingly and numb. I glance around for Patricia. She'll be coming toward me now, filled with questions and concern, spitting on a handkerchief and rubbing my sore elbows.

She doesn't.

I sit up a bit and look around. There's Jacqueline/Gwendolyn/Yolanda in the window, and Robert kneeling next to me and tugging anxiously at the sleeve of my woolly cardigan, and the fat lady in the pink hat that I saw a bit earlier. No Patricia.

I stand up, and Robert makes little noises, going ooh like an owl. He points at my elbow, and I twist my head around to look. I can't see it, but I can feel the blood dribbling down towards my palm.

I look around quickly. No Patricia, not anywhere.

I feel a twist in my tummy. What if she's got angry at me and left me and Robert stranded here on this loud, busy street? She'll catch the bus home and tell Mum she doesn't have to deal with me anymore. I wonder if Robert's mum will be upset to lose him. Maybe not. She seemed happy enough to have Patricia take him out shopping with me while Mum stayed at her house drinking tea and talking. Maybe they'll be pleased to be shot of the both of us, and Robert and I will have to run away and sleep in haystacks and hollow trees, like kids in an adventure story.