The Tail of Emily Windsnap - Liz Kessler [7]
“Yes.” I nodded sadly. “I suppose I have. But you shouldn’t blame yourself. It’s okay. I don’t mind, seriously.”
She let go of my hand and shook her head. “But we live on a boat,” she said. “We’re surrounded by water.”
I almost laughed, but stopped myself when I saw the expression on her face. Then a thought occurred to me. “Mom, why exactly do we live on a boat if you’re so afraid of water?”
She screwed up her eyes and stared into mine as if she was looking for something. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I can’t explain it, but it’s such a deep feeling — I could never leave King.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense. I mean, you’re scared of water, and we live on a boat in a beach resort!”
“I know, I know!”
“We’re miles from anywhere. Even Nan and Granddad live at the other end of the country.”
Mom’s face hardened. “Nan and Granddad? What do they have to do with it?”
“I’ve never even seen them! Two cards a year and that’s it.”
“I’ve told you before, Em. They’re a long way away. And we’re not — we don’t get along very well.”
“But why not?”
“We had a fight. A long time ago.” She laughed nervously. “So long ago, I can’t even really remember what it was about.”
We sat in silence for a moment. Then Mom got up and looked out of the porthole. “This isn’t right; it shouldn’t be like this for you,” she murmured as she wiped the porthole with her sleeve.
Then she suddenly twirled around so her skirt flowed out around her. “I’ve got it!” she said. “I know what we’ll do.”
“Do? What do you mean, do? I’ll just take the note to school, or you could write one yourself. No one will ever know.”
“Of course they will! No, we can’t do that.”
“Yes, we can. I’ll just —”
“Now, Emily, don’t start with your arguing. I haven’t got the patience for it.” Her mouth tightened into a determined line. “I cannot allow you to live your life like this.”
“But you don’t —”
“What I do is my own business,” she snapped. “Now please stop answering me back.” She paused for a second before opening her address book. “No, there’s nothing else to do. You need to conquer your fear.”
“What are you going to do?” I fiddled with a button on my blouse.
She turned away from me as she picked up the phone. “I’m going to take you to a hypnotist.”
“All right, Emily. Now, I want you to breathe nice and deeply. Good.”
I was sitting in an armchair in Mystic Millie’s back room. I didn’t know she did hypnotism, but according to Sandra Castle, she worked wonders on Charlie Hogg’s twitch, and that was good enough for Mom.
“Try to relax,” Millie intoned before taking a very loud, deep breath. Mom was sitting in a plastic seat in the corner of the room. She had said she wanted to be there, “just in case.” In case of what, she didn’t exactly explain.
“You’re going to have a little sleep,” Millie drawled. “When you wake up, your fear of water will have completely gone. Vanished. Floated away . . .”
I had to stay awake! If I fell into a trance and started babbling about everything, the whole plan would be ruined. Not that I had a plan, as such, but you know what I mean. What would Millie think if she found out? What would she do? Visions of nets and cages and scientists’ laboratories swam into my mind.
I forced them away.
“Very good,” Millie breathed in a husky voice. “Now, I’m going to count down from ten to one. As I do, I’d like you to close your eyes and imagine you are on an escalator, gradually traveling down, lower and lower, deeper and deeper. Make yourself as comfortable as you can.”
I shuffled in my seat.
“Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .” Millie said softly. I closed my eyes and waited nervously for the drowsy feeling to come.
“Seven . . . six . . . five . . .” I pictured myself on an escalator like the one in the mall in town. I was running the wrong way, scrambling up against the downward motion. I waited.
“Four . . . three . . . two . . . You’re feeling very drowsy. . . .”
I waited a bit