The Mute and the Liar (26 page)

The sea.

That's
the first
thing
I
think.

The
walls
are
a
shade
of
sea-green,
and
glimmer
with
paintings
of
the
sea.
Two
huge
arched
windows
hover
side
by
side
and
take
up
the
entire
space
of
the
opposite
wall.
Beryl
blue
curtains
float
to
the
floor
from
the
ceiling
like
waterfalls, and
a
carpet
of
tidal
waves
crashes
beneath
my
feet.

In
front
of
the
wall
opposite
me
is
a
large,
ornate
mirror.
Through
it,
I watch
as
Kit
tells
me
to
wait
a
moment
and
leaves
the
room.
On
her
way
out,
she
passes
the
white
loveseat
sofa
and
vanity
table.
Not
knowing
what
else
to
do,
I
hesitantly
shuffle
to
the
middle
of
the
room,
where
there
is
a
welcoming bed veiled in white sheets.

“
I'm
so
happy
Jayce
has
you
as
a
friend.
”
Kit
returns,
carrying
a
bundle
of
clothing and
towels.
“
You're
so... different
from all the others.
”

She
begins
laying
out
the
clothes
in
different
piles,
and
passes
me
a
purple
nightdress
with
a
fluffy
white
cloud
pattern,
or
at
least
I
think
they
are
clouds
until
she hands it to me; they are actually sheep.

“
You
know
how
he
is.
He
has
all
these
people
around
him
all
the
time,
but
I
just
don't
think
he
is
actually
close
with
any
of
them.
It's
a
shame,
because
he's
such
a
lovely
boy.
Just
mixed
in
with the wrong crowd.
”

I
switch
off
at
this
point.
She
goes
on,
her
mouth
moving,
but
no
words
reach
me.
Any person
that
calls
Jayce
a
'lovely boy' is
clearly
not
worth
listening
to.

She
now
appears
to
be
talking
to
me
about
the
clothes
and
the
house,
and points
to
a
room
across
the
hall, which
I assume
is
the
toilet.

She
leaves,
and
I
begin
to
get
changed.
I
take
my
school
blazer
off
and
swing
it over the
white
metal
chair by
the
vanity table.

Just
then,
a
soft
meow slips
into the air.

Poking
its
head
around
the
door
is
a
tiny
pure
white
kitten,
probably
only
a
little bigger
than
my foot.

I've
never
really
liked
animals.
They
are
just...
there.
They
don't seem to
have
some
deep,
underlying
meaning
for
being
here.
And
I
especially
don’t
like
cats.
Not
after
coming
home
one
day
to
find
a
fat
grey
cat
sitting
in
my
sink.
It
just
kind
of
stared
at
me
for
a
while
with
a
very
questioning
gaze,
like
it
had
the
cheek
to
wonder
what
I
w
as doing
t
here
,
when
it
was
the
one who
had
turned
up
uninvited
in
my
house.

But this
cat is
almost...
What's
the
word
for it?
... Cute?

It
pads
into
the
room,
looking
up
at
me
with
sapphire
eyes.
After
the
kitten
spends
a
few
moments
judging
me,
it
seems
to
think
I
am
worthy
of
being its
servant, and
pushes
his
tiny
head
against
my
foot.

Its
paws
are covered
in
mud,
and it
has
a
leaf
stuck
to
its
bottom.
Disgusting
creature.

I
am about
to
kick the
dirty
thing
away,
when it
rolls
on
its
back.
No.
I
am
not
going
to
rub
your
belly.

The kitten
lets
out
a
baby
meow.
Hmm.

Well.
How
am
I
supposed
to
kick it,
when
it's
looking at
me like that?

It
has
a
collar
on,
with
a
tag
longer
than
its
neck
hanging
from
the
end.
I
bend down and
flick it
over.

This
kitten's
name
is Exterminator.

I
look
at
it
again.
There
is
a
leaf
tangled
in
its
fur.
It's
been outside.

Outside.
The place
I
am
not
allowed
to
go.

Instantly,
I
stamp
my
foot
by
its
head.
It
jumps
up
as
though
it's
been
hit
with an electric
shock, and
scampers
away.

A
little
rift
forms
in
my
stomach.
Maybe
I
shouldn't
have
done
that.
Maybe...
maybe
it
could
have
kept
me
company.
Is
that
a
stupid
thing
to
say?

A
few
high
piano
notes
flutter
through
the
walls
from
the
room
opposite,
forming
the
simple
tune
of
a
song.
It's
a
high,
tingling
sound,
where
every note
is
long
and
melds
into
the
next,
broken
only
by
the
occasional
trembling
low note.

Kit
begins
singing,
a
high
and
gentle
sound
with
softness
sparkling
in
every
word.

That
does
it.
I
can’t
take
this
anymore.
I
drag
my
feet
over
to
the
arched
window and
crumple
into
a
pathetic, quivering heap
on
the
floor.