There’s one that sticks in my mind: Alice’s neck stretched like a turkey’s. She was like a plasticine creature who has been grabbed by the head and ankles and stretched out. Only, she wasn’t made of plasticine but muscle and bone. A gigantic, slithery thing with a horrified expression on her face. Her hair stood on end; the collar of her blouse was straining. Why was it so repulsive that someone’s body was different from your own? My own neck tingled and bile rose to my throat. I felt in my own spine how Alice’s vertebrae tightened and her skin stretched.

‘Stupid girl! Get out, straight away, or I’ll set the house on fire!’ the Rabbit was shouting outside his house. By now, Alice had expanded to fill the living room. A gigantic child’s arm stuck out of one downstairs window. From another there was a leg sticking out, covered by a knee-high sock. The Rabbit was throwing kindling into the house.

Such a nasty, foolish animal. Can’t people be whatever size or shape they want to be? I thought of the doctor exam-ining the ultrasound image. What right did he have to stand there and throw kindling as if you could just undo a baby just like that? What could I do about it not being the ‘right’ size and appearance?

Everybody was nasty to Alice the whole time. It wasn’t her fault that she had grown so fast and got stuck. She only went in because she wanted to help.

Maybe we all end up in places where we’re too big and can’t move at some point. And not all of us will have pieces of cake in our pocket so we can shrink to the size the doctor says is OK.

7

7

‘Look what we’ve got!’ Pekka says, still with his coat on. He starts piling parcels on to the kitchen table, different sizes, all wrapped in bloody paper. There’s a strong smell in the air.

The girl and I move closer.

‘It doesn’t get fresher than this, I tell you. Can’t get this down the shop. This is ethical and organic and locally sourced and damn good.’ Pekka starts opening the parcels, all enthusiastic.

The mutton is dark and thick and the sheep smell of it is really pungent. Bones stick out here and there. Shoulder, kneecap, ribs.

‘Annu’s decided to spend the spring in Scotland. Don’t ask me why. She’s had the sheep slaughtered. A friend of hers is driving around the whole province at the moment, distributing meat to people Annu knows.’

‘I thought we were going to have the sheep here, in our garden,’ the girl says from the doorway, to where she’s retreated, having seen the parcels.

‘What do you mean, here? We don’t even have a decent fence,’ Pekka replies. He doesn’t register the girl’s expression.