A Pocketful of Eyes Read Free

map,’ said Toby.
    ‘ Well ,’ said Gus. ‘If you like Frankenstein, let me tell you about Charles Guthrie.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘In 1908, in Missouri, Charles Guthrie became the first person to master anastomosis.’
    ‘Ana-what?’ said Bee, curious despite herself.
    ‘Anastomosis,’ Toby told her. ‘The art of stitching one vessel to another without leaks.’
    Gus nodded. ‘Guthrie grafted a dog’s head onto another dog.’
    ‘No way !’ said Toby.
    Gus took another bite of doughnut. ‘Chin to chin,’ he said, through a mouthful of crumbs.
    Bee felt a little sick. There was nothing orderly or methodical about two-headed dogs.
    ‘The upside-down dog started to cry in pain after about five hours, and Charlie put them both down after seven.’
    ‘Dude.’
    ‘That’s awful,’ said Bee.
    ‘That was only the beginning,’ said Gus. ‘In the Soviet Union in the fifties, scientists did more puppy-head transplants. Some of the puppies lived as long as twenty-nine days, and would eat and bark and try to bite their host dog.’
    Bee shuddered, and was suddenly grateful that Gus hadn’t spoken much before.
    Gus continued to chuckle and tell off-colour stories all day. And eat. Bee had never seen anyone eat so much. He had two hamburgers with chips for lunch, along with a strawberry milkshake, then inhaled a Crunchie, two lamingtons and a slice of banana bread for afternoon tea, washing it down with a large hazelnut cappuccino with extra froth and chocolate sprinkles. Bee was aghast.
    Even as Toby was chatting and joking with Gus, Bee could feel him watching her, as if he were attempting to get a reaction. He kept trying to catch her eye – and succeeding far too often. What did he want ? Was he just being annoying? Or did he like her? Bee wasn’t sure which option was worse. She just kept her head down and worked on her possum, clenching her jaw every time Gus laughed at something Toby said. Gus had never laughed with her . She and Gus didn’t have a laughing relationship. They had a relationship based on respect and professionalism.
    The main body of the possum was now shaped, and Bee was working on its front left leg. She poked a sharpened piece of wire through the pad of the animal’s paw, and fed it through the limb to attach the body. She then turned the skin inside-out so she could wrap more cottonwool around the wire, as well as some thicker flax-string to stand in for the possum’s muscles.
    ‘So how long have you been working on this little fellow?’ Toby asked, leaning over her.
    ‘Not long,’ she said, although in truth the possum had been hard going and it had taken her all week to get this far. ‘I’ll finish it by the end of the day,’ she said.
    Toby looked at the still rather limp furry body. ‘No, you won’t,’ he said, matter-of-factly.
    ‘I will !’ said Bee. But there was still a lot of work to do. She imagined the smarmy look on Toby’s face the next morning when he came into the lab. She was determined to prove him wrong.
    Bee pulled out her phone and sent her mother a text message to say she’d be home late. She’d finish her possum. Even if she had to stay up all night.

GUS LEFT AT 8:37 pm, opening a packet of salt and vinegar chips on his way out. Bee fully expected Toby to bolt out the door as soon as Gus had gone, but to her surprise he stayed.
    They didn’t speak, just worked silently. The only sound was the snip of scissors and the faint squeaking of cottonwool.
    At 9:09 pm, Bee’s phone rang, making her jump. Her watch caught on a raw edge of possum fur and pulled one of her stitches free. She answered the phone, sliding her watch off and placing it on her desk.
    ‘Are you on your way home?’ her mother asked. ‘Can you pick up a pizza?’ Bee could hear familiar electronic beeps and whistles and metallic clanks in the background.
    ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m still here.’
    Toby looked over at her and grinned like an idiot. She turned her back on