by Nick Patey

The child was put to bed at the agreed hour. The baby-sitter turned the light switch off gently, closing the bedroom door without a sound. He descended the stairs and turned the television on softly, silently easing himself into the armchair.

The child slept snugly, wrapped in sheets and smothered in blankets. The way she stroked her nose unconsciously in her sleep was quite disarming.

The phone rang. It was the girl's parents. Their car had broken down, so they would be arriving home at least two hours later than expected.

The sitter flushed the toilet discretely, giving his hands a thorough wash on the way out of the bathroom. He returned to his armchair and read thoughtfully.

10.00 pm.

The child became restless in her sleep, her body slowly beginning to rise. Her sitter crossed his legs and rubbed his eyes softly. He heard a quiet sound coming from upstairs and thought he'd best investigate the source. He had to keep an eye and an ear out for anything odd. Anything at all out of the ordinary.

Silently he eased himself out of is armchair and crept towards the staircase. He heard a key turn in the front door, and watched silently as the girl's parents entered the house. Their car had been repaired far earlier than they had expected. They paid the sitter the agreed fee, and he left gratefully. He drove home carefully, gliding slowly through the back streets.

Wednesday. 7.30 pm.

He read to the child, the girl leaning heavily upon the words of his narrative. Eventually, the child's apparent tiredness suggested that she should be put to bed a little earlier than usual.

He organised her sleeping quarters while she showered. The water rained gently down upon her body. She soaped herself softly while he prepared her bed, his fingers silently smoothing down the sheets.

The phone rang. It was the girl's parents. They would be sleeping at a friend's place overnight. The sitter agreed to stay until morning so that someone would be home to mind the child. He hung up the phone gently.

A sudden and unexpected shower of rain necessitated the shutting of windows. The girl brushed her hair thoroughly in the bathroom mirror, then proceeded to dress for bed. Her sitter closed the windows and then repaired to the kitchen to make a quiet cup of tea.

As the child pulled the sheets over her body, her sitter turned the light switch off gently, closing the bedroom door without a sound. He descended the stairs slowly, silently easing himself into his armchair. He gently switched on a nearby lamp and read quietly.

The child slept deeply. She was a 'curious child'. The way she ran her fingers through her hair without knowing it was mildly flirtatious. The sitter closed the book and smiled. He put the book back in its proper place and thought that he'd best look in on the girl. He ascended the stairs and opened the bedroom door noiselessly. The girl was curled up in foetal position. He smiled and crept back downstairs without a sound.

11.30 pm.

The sitter turned the television on softly and switched from channel to channel. The child dreamt of nameless faces and formless shadows, her body gradually becoming more and more restless as her unconsciousness increased. The sitter re-opened the windows. A light breeze blew through the house, wrapping itself around interior objects like an ungainly girl.

The girl left her bed and began exploring her physical surrounds. The child's body roamed aimlessly between the upstair rooms, gliding through the night air carelessly. Her sitter read smugly and chuckled inwardly, legs crossed comfortably in his armchair. His eyes leapt between words and sentences, his imagination slowly becoming hungry and restless as the story progressed.

Upstairs, the girl moved about unrestrained.

3.00 am.

Back in bed, the child slept awkwardly, shrouded in sheets and buried in blankets. The way she moved restlessly from side to side without being awakened by her own movements was mildly alarming.

4.15 am.

Silently the sitter eased himself out of his armchair and headed towards the staircase. As he ascended the stairs, he heard a key turn quietly in the front door. He stared pensively as the girl's parents entered the house. Their sudden and invasive presence almost suffocated him. They had decided to return early in the morning rather than sleep away all night at their friend's place after all. They paid the sitter the agreed fee and he left awkwardly. He drove home anxiously, at times accelerating dangerously through red lights.

Saturday 8.00 pm.

He ran the girl's bath and prepared her for sleep. A curious state of nervous agitation undermined any possibility of purely mental concentration.

The child tossed and turned in her bed, dreaming of sleep.

11.30 pm.

The sitter went to the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bedroom. He was searching for something to relieve a sudden and unexpected headache. After taking something for his head, he thought that he'd best look in on the girl. He opened the bedroom door silently and found her sitting upright, sobbing quietly to herself. To help her sleep, he read to the child.

The child slept snugly, wrapped in sheets and smothered in blankets. Her sitter turned the light switch off gently, closing the bedroom door without a sound. He descended the stairs and turned the television on softly, silently easing himself into his armchair.

Midnight.

by Nick Patey

The Teacher lifted her glasses from her face and motioned awkwardly towards the blackboard. A by seated in the very front row squinted to make out the letters. He hid his (silent?) laughter in note pads scribbled in secret. As far as the Teacher was concerned, the boy was "all eyes and ears. An excellent pupil. He always does his homework."

Behind the glasses, the boy's stare grew pensive. His face broke out into a Cheshire grin before immediately regaining its composure. He was a "curious child".

He wasn't himself today. The change was imperceptible. It really would have taken an extraordinarily perceptive person to have noticed it. A child perhaps.

At home his mother nervously opened the crossword puzzle book that lay before her on the kitchen table. The kettle was whistling as her husband entered the room. He made straight for the newspaper. He looked out the window so as to decide whether or not it was a beach day.

Conversation was restricted to monosyllables, communication being left to well rehearsed body language. He mumbled something about "passive smoking" as she stubbed her cigarette out awkwardly. It was cloudy today.

She always put her make-up on, even if she wasn't intending to leave the house. It was funny watching her make her face up in the bathroom mirror when she thought that no one was watching. She took ages.

Winter was best. Fire and lampshades. Reading when it rained. Summer took ages.

His report card said that he was "excellent at composition. Comprehension competent."

The Teacher turned around slowly. She nervously tapped the ruler against her left thigh. The period was taking ages.

The girl two chairs away from him turned away upon his making eye contact with her. It was humid today.

The Teacher scratched the chalk against the blackboard, occasionally pausing to let it squeal. The 'curious' children took notes.

The milk had been warm that morning. His socks stank. The flies were bad.

The bell went.

Lunch meant violence. It was cricket today. Summer took ages.

His mother's husband and he were in love with the same woman. He wandered homeless in his bedroom.

Sundays meant family roasts. Sundays took ages. Summer Sundays especially.

His sister was moved to the other side of the house.

School was back. The period was taking ages.

Assembly. The children were excused. They had done nothing. The playground crack-ups caught the eyes of the 'curious' children.

He started making things up about other people.

His mother moved on to cryptic-crosswords. They could take ages to work out, let alone finish. Her husband wasn't home today. It was a beach day.

The Teacher put her glasses on awkwardly so as to better examine her class. The period was taking even longer than usual. The boy seated in the very front row was sent to the back of the class. She was going to keep him in.

The bell went. He'd miss the bus. Have to walk home instead. The walk home took ages.

Sports day. It was the football season. The ink ran as his sweaty fingers smudged the pages of his exercise book.

The Teacher started sending letters home about his academic progress. His mother hid them from her husband. Her husband took the newspaper to the toilet with him. He took ages.

His sister started bringing other boys home. She started going out with other boys. His sister started staying out with other boys. She took ages getting home.

The Teacher took off her glasses and stared absently out the window. The boy pretended to read. It was raining. Reading when it rained took ages.

Summer.

Boredom.

School.

The Teacher kept shrinking. He hardly saw his sister at all these days. At home his mother lay down for her afternoon nap. Her husband was at the office handing a divorce matter.

The boy started 'shooting up'. The Teacher kept keeping him in. She made him repeat. School was taking ages.

The Teacher nervously opened her handbag and took out her lipstick. The boy enjoyed watching her make her face up when she thought that no one was watching. She didn't take too long at all.

The boy wiped his glasses and put them on awkwardly. The letters on the blackboard all began t resemble one another and merge into one. His secret notebook grew and grew.

The Teacher buried her face in the blackboard, hurriedly filling it with debatably useful information. A boy with glasses in the back row yawned lazily. As far as the Teacher was concerned, the boy was "neither here nor there. Merely a class distraction."

The Teacher squealed the class to attention with the aid of the blackboard and a piece of chalk. She damaged her freshly manicured fingernails in the process, causing a momentary biting of the lower lip. The 'curious' children took notes.