I am Sammy and she is me and I am sheltering myself from the blows. Then I feel a pinprick or a bee sting and my tongue swells up and my body falls down. I am tiny and deep down under and this time there is a white rabbit. ‘What time is it?’ He has pink eyes. It is midnight o’clock and after the bell tolls, the Sandman will appear. Look! There he is – all long fingers and trailing shadows. He’s stuffing my eyes, my ears, my mouth. ‘Oh dear,’ says the rabbit. ‘That’s a mighty fine pickle you’ve got yourself into. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. You’re late, you’re late, you’re late. Oh dear.’ Then he bunny-hops away. My body is writhing under the weight of the sand, and Mama is standing over me shaking her head: ‘See what happens when you fight with your fate?’ The old dog is yelping and pulling at her thin piece of twine that will not break, no matter how hard she tries. Magda is patting her on her head and trying to soothe her. Papa is telling me how lovely I look, and Luca punches him hard in the mouth. His tooth falls out and a fairy flies in. The fairy has the face of Sammy and she is bleeding and mouthing, ‘Help me, help me.’ When I reach out to catch her she crumbles to dust, like a moth. Oh what have I done? What have I done? I hear a wailing sound and it is me.

44. Sammy

44

Sammy

My knight has deposited me in a getaway car and we’re speeding, speeding away down the highway. He came to my rescue, like I said he would.

‘See, Nico? I told you he’d come,’ I say, turning to her. But the figure beside me is my saviour. So who is driving? Is Nico in the front? Wavy lines float in front of my face and my eyesight is blurred. I press my knuckles into my eye sockets and rub them. When I open them again, I see that Nico isn’t in the car. ‘Where is she?’ I say to the man beside me, who shrugs and stares out the window. ‘Where is she?’ I say again, my voice gathering in volume. ‘Where … is … she?’

‘Shut up,’ the man says, in a thick foreign accent.

Panic is building itself into a frenzy. ‘Turn around,’ I shout. ‘This wasn’t the plan.’

I notice the bulges of the driver’s angry neck flesh winking at me, mocking me.