snake?’ Katherine said. ‘He hasn’t got a snake. He never shuts up about them, it’s snakes from the moment he wakes up, but I promise you—’
Alice looked back at her, and, incredibly, felt herself starting to blush. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to tell you anything you didn’t know. But he’s definitely got a snake up there. When we were walking up your drive, I looked up and there he ws in the window with a snake round his neck. I’d better be going.’
Outside on the stairs, Jane had been listening to quite a lot of this. The kitchen door had been taken off, long ago, or perhaps there had never been one, she couldn’t remember. There was a sort of open-plan idea going on, and whenever anything was fried in the kitchen, the smell carried right upstairs, the light patina of grease settling on almost everything throughout the house. You could hear anyone talking in there, too. She’d heard everything her mother had to say, but this would bring her out of the kitchen, and Jane got up briskly and walked back to her bedroom. In a second her mother was following her; up the stairs at quite a trot, you could hear. ‘Timothy,’ she said, raising her voice, ‘Timothy!’ and into his bedroom. Jane came out on to the landing; so did Daniel. Downstairs, the new neighbour was standing in the hallway; she looked a nice woman, and tried a smile, a confused one, on the pair of them. The moment for her farewell was on the far side of some terrible family scene. She just stood there. Jane would have done the same.
‘Is this true?’ Katherine said, in the doorway of Tim’s room.
‘What’s this now?’ Daniel said.
‘Tim’s got a snake,’ Jane said to Daniel.
‘Is it true?’ Katherine said.
‘Is it true what?’ Tim said. He had got up from his bed, had backed nervously away to the window. ‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘You heard what your sister said,’ Katherine said. ‘Have you got yourself a snake?’
Tim said nothing for a moment; his fingers, behind him, running fretfully along his little shelf. ‘I’d love a snake,’ he said forlornly, but his regular request, so long overlooked or greeted with the same brief riposte had lost conviction. ‘I really would.’
‘Do I have to hear from the neighbours that you’re hiding a snake in the house?’ Katherine said. ‘Where is it?’
‘It smells in here,’ Daniel said, coming to the door of Tim’s room. ‘It really does.’
‘I haven’t got any kind of snake,’ Tim said.
‘Are you lying to me?’ Katherine said. ‘What’s under your bed?’
‘Nothing,’ Tim said, breaking out into a wail, but Katherine was already on her knees, dragging out the glass case with one, then two hands. She pulled it into the middle of the room, and knelt there, staring at the thing. It was like an aquarium of air; littered with small rocks, little toys and, ignoring all of these, curled up, was a snake; thirty inches long, yellow, skinny and ugly. With a gesture of disgust, Katherine got up, pushing the case to one side, and stared at Tim. He started to cry, turning his face away.
‘What is that?’ Katherine said.
‘Let’s have a look,’ Daniel said, coming in and peering at the thing.
‘It’s – please don’t – I didn’t mean—’
‘That,’ Katherine said, ‘is a snake. And where did it come from?’
‘I – I—’ Tim said, but it was all too much, and his tears overcame him.
‘You can’t keep it,’ Katherine said. ‘There’s no argument about that. It’s going straight back to wherever you got it from.’
‘What’s he called?’ Jane said.
‘Geoffrey,’ Tim said, through his tears. ‘I only wanted a snake called Geoffrey.’
‘How do you know it’s male?’ Daniel said, looking closely. ‘Look, he’s seen me, he likes me—’
‘The man in the shop said,’ Tim said. ‘And, besides, you can tell the difference between male and female by—’
‘That’s enough,’ Katherine said, not letting Tim set out his expertise; it was the way he comforted himself. ‘It doesn’t matter what it is, it’s going back to the man in the shop. My God, it’s not dangerous, is it? You’ve not been as stupid as that?’
‘No,’ Tim said. ‘He wouldn’t hurt anyone, he wouldn’t. I take him out, I talk to him. You can tell he’s not venomous, because the venomous ones, generally—’
‘If I want to know about fucking snakes,’ Katherine said, beyond everything now, ‘I’ll ask for the information and I won’t have to think about who to ask, I’ve heard enough about them now. I could write an essay on the subject with everything we’ve all had to listen to. All I want to know now is where it came from and then you and I are going to take it back there. And I’m going to give the man in the shop –’ and, as she said that, she dropped into an awful, mincing voice of parody, nothing like Tim’s voice, but just the voice of loose cruel mockery ‘– a piece of my mind for selling anything, let alone a snake, to a small boy on his own. My God, what must he have been thinking of?’
Tim’s tears, which had been drying up, burst out with great force, and downstairs Alice, still hovering and listening, decided that she would not be missed, and should probably not hear this. She tried to feel pity: not eleven o’clock and all this deposited on top of the situation. But Katherine had sworn at her child, and had spoken to him not even as a sardonic teacher speaks, but as one child to another, a bully in the playground. No one should be heard speaking like that, and Alice let herself out quietly.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Tim said.
‘Of course you meant to,’ Daniel said, apparently enjoying the situation. ‘You must have saved up for months.’
‘Years,’ Tim said. ‘I thought you’d like—’
‘Of course I don’t like it,’ Katherine said. ‘How do you open this thing?’
Tim, crying, said nothing, and Katherine got down on her knees and fiddled with the case. With a single quick gesture, she reached in and took the snake with both hands, one hand behind its head, the other about its tail, and stood up. The snake buckled and writhed in mid-air, astonished and frightened, its tongue flickering in and out. ‘Don’t take him back there,’ Tim said, dashing at her and trying to seize her arms. ‘He doesn’t like it there, please don’t—’
‘All right, then,’ Katherine said, nearly smiling, ‘if that’s what you want—’
And she walked out of the room decisively and down the stairs, the snake in her hands, her children following her.
‘That was Caroline,’ Mrs Arbuthnot said, coming back from the telephone. ‘You know, nice young thing, she works as a nursery nurse, very pregnant, I mentioned. She says she’s just setting off now so she’ll be here in five minutes, tops. I’ll go and put the kettle on.’
‘Oh, good,’ Mrs Warner said.
