‘I think Wateringcan might come back tonight,’ he said, ‘I think he might, don’t you? I did try to look for him, I did go about a bit, but I found no traces, and I didn’t want to be caught by Moorcus, he was on duty last night. Tonight it’s Duvit so perhaps I’ll have more luck. But I do think Wateringcan will come home, once he’s tired himself.’

‘I’m sure he shall,’ I said.

‘Clod, tell me your news, that’s what I’m eager about.’

‘Tummis,’ I said, ‘have you ever waited and waited, patiently scratching, itching yourself, wiping at your nose, looking at the door waiting for it to open and there in front of you to appear, an excellent story. Your very own story, mind, not someone else’s, not some minor role in some other body’s opera. But your own. Your own story. Have you ever wanted your own story in which you’re the leading part?’

‘How you come at me, Clod, so early in the day.’

‘Your own story, Tummis, think of it, your very own. What might it be?’

‘A Tummis story? How would that be?’

‘My story has come to me, Tummis. I think it has.’

‘Oh, Clod!’

‘Oh, Tummis!’

‘You must tell me everything. How is she? How was the Sitting? I know that she seems quite big and tough but she wasn’t after all then?’

‘Stop! Stop right there, Tummis Gurge Oillim Mirck Iremonger. Pinalippy isn’t my story. It’s not Pinalippy I’m talking about. My story is something else altogether.’

‘No it’s not.’

‘It certainly is, Tummis. (Your nose is dripping.)’

‘(Thank you.) What’s this story?’

‘Well,’ I said, then I hesitated, I didn’t want to ruin it. I suddenly thought it was such a delicate thing, very new and small, and I didn’t tell Tummis, not yet, though usually I would tell him everything. Suddenly I felt a great gap opening up between us as if he were growing far away, I felt that, but still I didn’t close the gap. I left it there. ‘I haven’t quite got all the parts right yet, I don’t want to smash it before I’m certain. But I can say, it has some red in it.’

‘Some red, does it?’

‘Some red and also some green.’

‘A muddy sort of colour then? Brownish?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Well, what then?’

‘I can’t say exactly.’

Down below the train screamed for London.

‘Tell me, Clod, please tell me.’

‘Percy Hotchkiss.’

‘It’s Aliver,’ I whispered, ‘come for my check-up.’

‘Do tell me, Clod, quickly. Please do.’

There was a knock at the door.

‘Clod,’ came a voice, ‘may I step in a moment?’

‘Oh, flotsam,’ whispered Tummis nervously, ‘oh, flotsam and pokeum.’

The door opened; Uncle Aliver was before us.

‘I thought I heard voices,’ he said. ‘Tummis, are you supposed to be here?’