All That She Can See(10)

Cherry got to the bottom of the page and stopped to count: twenty-eight Meddlums for fifteen people. A thrill rippled through her, bringing her to her feet, her goal clear. ‘And we’re off!’ she exclaimed, sweeping a surprised-looking Mrs Overfield down the road with her.





An hour or so later, Cherry and Mrs O were walking back up the high street when Cherry saw the shadow of a Meddlum. Its darkness engulfed one side of the street almost entirely and as it came lumbering around the corner she saw the young girl, tiny against the black fur of a Meddlum Cherry didn’t recognise. The girl looked about seventeen, and wore a school uniform. Cherry dropped Mrs O’s arm and ran across the road, only just missing the bonnet of a car and oblivious to the angry driver honking the horn in one long blast.

You!’ she shouted at the girl, stumbling to a stop in front of her. ‘What are you feeling right now?’ Cherry had never seen this Meddlum before, and certainly not one this big or this obvious. It was tall and round with white tendrils of hair that were thick and matted against its scalp. Its face was long with a protruding nose and tiny half-moon spectacles were balanced right on the tip of it. It sniffed haughtily and made a particularly strong effort to look down on Cherry.

‘What?’ the girl said, clutching her stylish over-the-shoulder satchel closer to her body.

‘How do you feel?’ Cherry pushed impatiently, stepping closer and forcing the girl to step backwards. The girl turned and began hurriedly walking away but Cherry pursued, fixed entirely on finding out what this Meddlum was.

‘Leave me alone,’ the girl called over her shoulder, raising her voice.

‘Cherry!’ Mrs O had only just caught up with her. ‘Leave that poor girl alone. You can’t go chasing after people you don’t know!’ Mrs O was trying to keep her voice down to avoid alerting passers-by to Cherry’s strange behaviour, but the slight commotion had already been noticed and several curtains were twitching.

Please,’ Cherry begged, ignoring Mrs O. She ran around in front of the girl, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. She even placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. ‘I just need to know exactly what you’re feeling at this precise moment.’

The girl looked at Mrs O, frantic but seemingly harmless, and then at Cherry, kooky but clearly kind. ‘Look.’ The young girl flipped her sheen of brown hair over her shoulders, facing Cherry square on. ‘I’ve had a really bad day. I’ve failed most of my exams and now I have to go home and tell my parents what a disappointment I am. They’re going to kill me.’ The girl was about to sob but she composed herself quickly before continuing. ‘And then David Prime told someone in the year above, who told my friend Hannah, who told me that he was going to ask me out after school today and… and he didn’t. So the last thing I need is some weirdo following me down the street, OK?’ The girl’s eyes shone with tears. She turned on her heel and ran in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from Cherry.

‘Disappointment?’ Cherry said. ‘It’s disappointment?’

The Meddlum looked over its shoulder and winked at Cherry.

‘DISAPPOINTMENT!’ she yelled.

Mrs O reached over and cupped Cherry’s hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. ‘I think it’s time to go home,’ she said gently.

‘Vanilla pods. I just need vanilla pods,’ Cherry said distractedly as she scribbled the nameless girl and her Meddlum onto her list.

‘Vanilla pods. Then home.’ Mrs O led Cherry carefully towards the shops, pretending not to notice the stares from the townspeople.





A short while later, Cherry and Mrs O were back at Cherry’s house. Cherry looked at her now very long list of townspeople and their Meddlums. At the top was Mrs Brewer. Cherry knew that Mrs Brewer loved tea, and was kind to people who were not kind in return.

Mrs Brewer: Anxious and Bored.

‘Let’s start with the Anxiety,’ Cherry muttered. ‘Tranquillity Teacakes, maybe.’ She wrote her choice beside Mrs Brewer’s name.

‘What was that, dear?’ Mrs O asked, looking up from where she was making tea.

‘Teacakes,’ Cherry said. ‘I’m going to make some for Mrs Brewer.’

‘How sweet of you!’ Mrs O beamed. ‘You seem very calm, Cherry. It’s lovely. It’s… well, it’s unusual.’ She eyed Cherry, suddenly worried she was up to something.

‘I’m always calm when I’m baking.’ Cherry smiled for the first time in a long time. ‘It makes me feel…’ Cherry breathed in the scent of pastry and with it the memory of her father struck her, ‘… less alone.’

And with that, Loneliness, who usually stood tall, shrank by two inches.





4





Proof in the Pudding





Cherry’s self-expression had always been minimal. As a child she’d worn what her father had clothed her in, without question. She read the books she was told to read at school, nothing more, and she rarely watched television. She didn’t sing along to the radio and she certainly didn’t write or draw or play an instrument. She hadn’t changed much as she grew older, except that she chose to wear, almost exclusively, pyjamas and slippers. But now that she’d found baking, everything had changed. It was the best form of self-expression she could’ve hoped for, maybe more literally than even she realised.