Roll Over Roly - Anne Fine [4]
“Brilliant!” said Rupert, holding it to the light and twisting it to watch the colours tumble from one astonishing pattern to the next. “Brilliant!”
“It's one of my best ones,” she admitted. “It took me ages.”
He stared at her in wonder. “You made this?”
“They're not all that difficult,” she told him. “They just take a good deal of care and time. But all you really need is a nice bit of wood, some oil, and shards of coloured glass.”
His eyes lit up.
“If I ever have to come again because of a funeral, will you show me how?”
She laughed at him. “Don't be a dilly! The next funeral in this family is likely to be mine.”
“Oh!” He was startled. “I'm sorry.”
“Not to worry,” she assured him cheerfully. “That's how it goes. Life is a splendid robe. Its only fault is its short length.”
Rupert said shyly, “I could come round and visit you anyway…”
“Not till that dog's learned some manners,” Great Aunt Ada said.
And left the room.
7 Roll Over, Roly!
HE DIDN'T MEAN to fall asleep. He wasn't really tired. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he half-remembered hearing poor Roly scrabbling desperately at some closed door, and muffled barks. But after that, the only thing he heard was Great Aunt Ada snoring through the wall when he woke up.
And thumping.
Strange, irregular thumps.
And squawkings. Lifting his head from the pillow, he could hear squawks.
And more thumps.
More squawks.
Squawk.
Thump.
Squawk.
Thump.
Rupert slid off the bed and crept to the door.
Squawk!
Thump!
He crept along the hall.
Squawk! Thump! Squawk! Thump!
Then silence.
Rupert crept closer and put his ear flat against the door. Inside, he could hear scrabbling, and then his own voice, sharp with irritation.
“Just sit and behave, please!”
The parrot was using his voice. Rupert was astonished. He'd only told Gordon off once – for flicking grit on the carpet. He knew parrots were brilliant at copying noises and voices. But, still, it was amazing.
There was another short scrabble. Then, “Stop that! Sit! Roll over, Roly!”
It was his own voice again, to the life. The imitation was so perfect that if his own mother had been standing there beside the door, she would have thought that it was him.
Another silence. Then, “Jump, you dozy lump! Up! Down! Faster!”
Rupert could tell from the mixture of voices that this was partly Great Uncle Percy shouting, and partly himself getting ratty about having to push the vacuum cleaner in straight lines.
Then, “Absolute rubbish!” (Great Uncle Percy again.)
More scrabbling. Then, “Roly, come back!” (His own voice.)
A short burst of vacuum cleaner.
One or two express trains.
Then, “Roll over, Roly! Jump! Jump, you dozy lump! Up! Down!”
Now Rupert could hear panting. And a whimper. But, almost at once, he heard his own voice saying through the door, “Oh, hush! Just sit and behave, please!”
Instantly, there was silence through the door. In panic, Rupert pushed it open. And, sure enough, there on the carpet, looking as limp as Great Aunt Ada's furry window-washing cloth, was poor little Roly, tired out.
“Jump!” screeched the parrot again, ignoring Rupert.
Terrified, Roly scrambled to his feet, and jumped.
“Faster!” yelled Gordon. “Roll over! Faster! Faster!”
Roly rolled over and jumped, faster and faster.
Rupert was horrified. “Roly!” he called out. “Roly!”
Roly spun round and saw him. He was about to
hurl himself across the room into the safety of Rupert's outstretched arms, when Gordon screeched again.
“Just sit and behave, please!”
Instantly, Roly sat.
Rupert called from the doorway. “Come here, Roly.”
Gratefully, Roly hurtled across the carpet towards Rupert.
“Roly, come back!” called the parrot, using Rupert's voice.
Instantly, Roly ran back.
Rupert was furious. “Shut up!” he yelled at Gordon. “Just shut up!” He reached out for Roly, who turned to gaze at him with pleading eyes, but didn't dare move till Gordon suddenly snapped, out of the blue, “Stop hanging about like an old