So I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror. I was as ugly as the truth. My face was round and pink with scared little eyes and lips that looked like somebody made them out of scone dough. I looked like something very drunk people had blown up to play with. I cried for days. I couldn’t think of a place in the world that would give me a job.
Then one day, I was on my way home, the couple from across the street called me. Nobody knew much about them. They were Methodist people, their name was Bluebottle, they wore identical glasses, had lots of gold in their teeth and cement animals on their lawn. They told me they were going away for Christmas and would pay me to look after their house. All I had to do was open the windows every day and water the garden twice a week.
That night I told my parents I had found a job. My father said the money was too little, but my mother said it was fine, as long as I didn’t open their drawers, because it was like looking into somebody’s soul and that could be a very dark place.
Two weeks later the Bluebottles left for their holiday. That afternoon I went to their house and opened all their drawers. They were filled with tools, knives and forks, photographs, magazines, unopened mail, underwear, chocolates, very old make-up and broken jewellery. I was shaking with excitement. Not even the doorbell of a whorehouse could match the promise of an unoccupied house in the care of an adolescent. But for some reason, the same reason that is still a mystery after twenty years, in the middle of my treasure hunt, I turned around, went back to the kitchen and opened the fridge.
It was filled with food. Not for a moment did I think it was strange for people to fill their fridge when they were going away for three weeks. I was overjoyed. I bent over to reach a can of cooldrink.
The food is for me, said a voice.
I jumped up, banged my head and fell to the floor.
You are all the same, said the voice.
I turned around to see the where the voice was coming from. On the stove-top sat the ugliest little creature I had ever seen. It looked like a dwarf with a very large head. He had pointed yellow teeth, a long crooked nose, tiny hands like a bat, and wore clothes from five hundred years ago.
Why does everybody always want to drink my cooldrink? asked the creature.
Who are you? I asked.
My name is Edward Bluebottle, said the little man, My parents hired you to babysit.
They did not, I said, I just water the garden.
No, you open the drawers, said Edward Bluebottle, And the fridge, like all the others. So I just wait here.
I got up from the floor.
How can they just lock you up? I said, Do the police know?
Edward pointed to a hole in the door.
I’m not locked up, he said, Did you think that was for the dog?
Why didn’t they take you with? I asked.
They always try to, said Edward.
He scratched his long nose with a bat finger.
But I don’t want to be seen with them, he said, Not with those glasses and those golden teeth.
He jumped down to the floor.
Come, he said, Let me show me you where the nice drawers are.
I looked at the stove. The plate was on. And it was red-hot.
One week after the Bluebottles had left for their holiday it started raining. It rained for days. It rained so hard we couldn’t see the neighbours’ house or the cement animals across the street. It felt like we were the only people on the planet. After three days our street became a river with people’s belongings floating past our house.
The man on the radio said it was a disaster. He said when it rained like that all the poor people with small cars got their engines wet and blocked the road and then the rich people with big cars couldn’t go anywhere either and eventually nobody had anything to eat.
Mother said we should be grateful she bought in bulk when Father got paid overtime, we had enough Weetbix for three weeks.
I thought of the Bluebottle fridge with all that food, but struggling through a river to ask a dwarf on a burning stove-top for food just seemed impossible, so we ate the Weetbix.
Four days later it stopped raining. Still, nobody could go anywhere because outside it looked like the ocean. Then one morning, finally, somebody knocked on the door. It was Roberta Breedt from down the road.
There’s a payphone in my garden, she said.
Thank you, said Father, But our phone is working perfectly.
No, said Roberta, Miss Baps is inside.
I’m sure she won’t be long, said Father.
She’s stuck! screamed Roberta, You have to come!
Miss Baps lived four houses from us. She was a teacher at our school and taught typing with a stopwatch. She spoke to no-one, rode a bicycle and was really, really fat. When she passed the house we used to run after her to try and see if she was walking or on the bicycle. Father said it looked like someone left the knife in the pork.
By the time we got to Roberta’s house, a whole crowd was standing on the soaked lawn. The payphone was lying on its side with the door at the bottom. It was filled with Miss Baps. It looked like Eskimos had frozen a large mammal for winter. It took eight men to turn the payphone around and open the door. Miss Baps was crying.
I just wanted to phone my mother, she sobbed, Then the waters came.
It was all too much for me. The secret I carried inside, seven days of Weetbix and the fact that I had never known fat people had parents. I burst into tears.
The Bluebottles have a son! I screamed, He’s a dwarf with bat fingers! He comes out at night to sit on the cement animals!
There was absolute silence. Everybody was looking at me. I could not stop myself.
His name is Edward! I screamed, He cannot feel pain and he hates his parents. He showed me their drawers, they have guns and secret maps!
It was like a parade. Everybody was marching down the street with Father in front. He made me fetch the keys and unlock the door. They stormed into the house. There was nobody there.
He must be hiding, I said, Look, all his food is in the fridge.
They opened it. It was empty.
I showed them the drawer with the guns. They opened it. Inside was a Bible and a very old KitKat. Everybody looked at me and left. Father said I should go home and stay in my room ’til I was forty.
In the middle of the night I woke up. Somebody was tapping on my window. I peeped through the curtains. Miss Baps was standing in the garden.
Do not feel bad, she said, They will not believe you, but I do. I’ve known Edward Bluebottle for years.
Did you look after the house as well? I asked.
Edward lives in my mind, said Miss Baps, And in yours and many others.
But I’m gifted, I said, I don’t imagine things.
Oh, Edward is very real, said Miss Baps, He only appears when you need him.
For what? I asked.
Whatever, said Miss Baps, If you need to feel attractive, Edward will be your ugly friend. If you need to feel thin, Edward will be your fat friend. If you think your life is hard, Edward will suffer more. He will do anything for you.
I closed the curtains and turned around. Sitting on my bed was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. He smiled.
I can’t sleep either, he said.
When I was 16
When