“Not me,” said Gem, wriggling into her pyjamas.
“Oh, well,” Aunt Liv muttered. “Perhaps I put it somewhere else.”
I looked around the room. The walls were half straight and half sloping in Alfie and Gem’s bedroom, like we were in the roof. There was a small low window and a big colourful mess under the bunk beds. There was also a mattress made up into a bed on the floor. I could tell which bed was mine, even though Gem pointed and said, “This is mine, this is Alfie’s and that’s yours.”
My cousins squabbled about where they were sleeping because they both wanted to be on the bottom bunk nearest to me. In the end Aunt Liv put a pillow at either end and said, “Just for tonight, then back in your own beds.”
It’s funny, but when you’re little like them, anybody new is really interesting.
When Aunt Liv had gone, Alfie crawled under the covers and came up next to Gem. They lay on their fronts with their chins in their hands and stared at me.
“Have you got a horse?” said Alfie.
“No,” I said.
“Have you got a pig?” said Gem.
“No,” I said, realising this game could go on for a long time.
“Have you got a monkey?” Gem said.
So I said, “I haven’t got any animals.”
Gem made a sad face. They whispered to each other.
“We’ve got a pig,” said Alfie. “Her name’s Maggie.”
“She’s a kunekune pig and she’s going to have some babies,” said Gem.
“Any day now,” said Alfie.
They were quiet for a bit, just staring at me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the carousel. I’d found something unexpected, something that made me feel brilliant inside. Now it was gone and it left my stomach churning. I shouldn’t have taken it in the first place. Isn’t that what Mum wanted, what we had both wanted, though? Everything of his to be gone.
I suddenly felt far away from home, far away from everything.
“Do you want your mum?” said Gem.
She was right. I wanted my bed, my room and my mum.
“Lights out,” said Aunt Liv, coming back and flicking the light switch.
She knelt down, tucked the duvet tight around me, held my hand to look at the graze.
“I feel sick,” I said. “I want to go home.”
She kissed me softly on the cheek. Her hair smelled like summer.
“I know,” she said. “It always feels like this when you’re away from your mum and you don’t know anybody and you’re not sure what to expect. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to feel.”
I liked that she made it all right to feel that way; it made my eyes follow her as she went out and closed the door. But soon it was unearthly quiet. So quiet you feel you have to fill the silence up with some words.
“Who’s that girl your mum was talking about earlier? The one who used to live here,” I said.
I heard the shuffle of the quilt on the bottom bunk.
In the dark Alfie whispered, “She’s called Angel.”
“So that means she must be,” whispered Gem. “She stole ninety-nine horses.”
I thought about when Gem asked if Nell was short for Nelly, like the elephant. And that Gemma was called Gem, like something precious. My name doesn’t even mean anything. And it rhymes with hell and smell.
“It doesn’t mean you’re it just because of a name,” I said.
“How do you know?” whispered Alfie.
“It’s obvious,” I whispered. “Angels don’t steal. Everyone knows that.”
I could hear Alfie’s, and Gem’s wide-awake breath.
“If they had wings, they’d be an angel then,” Gem whispered. “They might hide them under their clothes.”
I turned on my side, curled my knees up and closed my eyes.
“Nobody’s got wings,” I said. “And anyway, nobody could steal that many horses. Not even an angel.”
“Nell,” whispered Alfie. “If you do see her, don’t tell nobody.”
“Why not?”
“She’ll probably kill you.”
Aunt Liv had a few fields. She said Lemon Cottage was a smallholding, not a farm. She had lots of ducks, three chickens and one pig, but all the rest of her land was for growing things. The geese belonged to Rita at the farm next door. Aunt Liv was looking after them for now until Rita decided what to do with them, because she was going to be moving soon.
“Gem, Alfie, you can help clean out the pen,” Aunt Liv said. “Nell…” She looked at my red skirt and white jumper. “Perhaps you could check the water trough, see if it’s full.”
The ground was soft and lumpy with sticky mud, and ruining my shoes. Maggie followed me over, waddling behind me with her barrel belly and rolled ears and wrinkled piggy eyes. She nudged my leg with her flat piggy nose.
“What’s she doing, Aunt Liv?” I said.
“Don’t worry, Nell, she’s just wondering who you are.”
Well, I wished she wouldn’t. I wished she would stop following me.
“Nice Maggie piggy,” I said, and held my hands up because she probably couldn’t understand English. “Wait there.”
Maggie’s ears twitched towards me. She seemed to be listening. But she nudged me again.
She turned her back and flicked her tail against my legs. I supposed she wanted me to pat her. But there I was again, doing something I didn’t want to do. I saw Aunt Liv look over, so I thought I’d better do it. Maggie took a step away from me as I reached out. I felt my shoes sinking. I heard the sucking noise as I tried to free them, as Maggie moved away. Too late. I fell down in the mud.
Maggie squealed and trotted back to her shed.
“Maggie can be a bit naughty if she thinks you don’t like her,” Aunt Liv said, running over, holding her hand out to help me up.
A clever pig then.
I didn’t want my mucky fingers to touch each other, so I stood with my hands spread and my arms away from my clothes until Aunt Liv said to swill them in the trough. Then she wiped them on her apron and I didn’t want to say anything about that. I stared at the dirt stuck in the lines of my hands, like somebody had drawn them with a dark brown pencil.
We cleaned and filled the food and water bowls for the geese and chickens, and after lunch Aunt Liv told us to go and play in the garden. I didn’t mind my cousins too much, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to dig a tunnel to China with them. So I asked Aunt Liv if I could stay with her.
She nodded to Gem and Alfie, told them to get digging if they wanted to reach China before teatime.
“I’ve got some weeding to do,”