make a nice pot of herb tea. After she had struck a match and the sound of the gas blowing through the ancient pipes of her cooker could be heard, she came back looking much more relaxed.
'You must have had a special reason for coming, though. You young people don't visit us oldies without a particular reason these days.'
'Don't be so cynical, Gran.'
'I'm not being cynical, I'm just being realistic. Now, stop prevaricating and tell me what brings you here.'
'I'd like you to tell me about "him". He left me his flat and I didn't even know him.'
'Edmond? You mean you don't remember Edmond? He used to like playing aeroplanes with you when you were little. I remember one time. . .'
'Yes, I remember, too, but apart from that one story, I can't remember anything else.'
She settled herself in a big armchair, taking care not to crease the dust cover too badly.
'Edmond is, well was, quite a character. Even when he was very small, he used to give me plenty to worry about. It wasn't easy being his mother. He used to break all his toys systematically, you know. He liked to take them to pieces but didn't often put them back together again. And it wasn't just his toys. He used to take everything apart: the clock, the stereo, the electric toothbrush. Once he even took the refrigerator to pieces.'
As if to confirm what she was saying, the old clock in the living room started to chime lugubriously. It had been through the mill with little Edmond too.
'His other craze was building dens. He used to turn the house upside down to make hidey-holes. He built one out of blankets and umbrellas in the attic and another out of chairs and fur coats in his bedroom. He just liked to burrow inside them with all his treasures. Once when I looked in one, it was full of cushions and
bits and pieces of machinery. It actually looked quite cosy.' 'All children do that.'
'Maybe but it got really out of hand with him. He wouldn't sleep in his own bed any more, only in one of his little nests. He sometimes stayed in them for days at a time without moving. As if he were hibernating. Your mother said he must have been a squirrel in a previous life.'
Jonathan smiled to encourage her to go on.
'One day, he wanted to build a hut under the living-room table. That was the last straw as far as your grandfather was concerned. He was absolutely livid. He gave him a good hiding, got rid of all his nests and made him sleep in his bed.'
She gave a sigh.
'From that day on, we lost him. It was as if we'd cut his umbilical cord. We were no longer part of his world. I think it had to be done, though. He had to find out he couldn't get his own way all the time. It caused problems later on when he was growing up. He couldn't stand school. I know you're going to say, "Like all children," again but it went much deeper than that with him. Do you know many children who hang themselves with their belts in the toilets because their teacher has told them off? He hanged himself when he was seven. It was the cleaner who took him down.'
'Maybe he was too sensitive.'
'Sensitive? You must be joking. A year later, he tried to stab one of his teachers with a pair of scissors. He was aiming for the heart. It was lucky he only damaged his wallet.'
She raised her eyes to heaven. Scattered memories were falling on her thoughts like snowflakes.
'Things got a bit better later because some of the teachers managed to capture his interest. He got As in the subjects he liked and Es in all the others. It was always either A or E.'
'Mum said he was a genius.'
'Your mother was fascinated by him because he'd told her he was trying to attain "absolute knowledge". Your mother had believed in reincarnation since the age of ten and thought he must have been Einstein or Leonardo da Vinci in a previous life.'
'As well as a squirrel?'
'Why not? According to Buddha, it takes many lives to make a soul.'
'Did he take any IQ tests?'
'Yes. He did very badly in them. He scored eighty-five, which
'You must have had a special reason for coming, though. You young people don't visit us oldies without a particular reason these days.'
'Don't be so cynical, Gran.'
'I'm not being cynical, I'm just being realistic. Now, stop prevaricating and tell me what brings you here.'
'I'd like you to tell me about "him". He left me his flat and I didn't even know him.'
'Edmond? You mean you don't remember Edmond? He used to like playing aeroplanes with you when you were little. I remember one time. . .'
'Yes, I remember, too, but apart from that one story, I can't remember anything else.'
She settled herself in a big armchair, taking care not to crease the dust cover too badly.
'Edmond is, well was, quite a character. Even when he was very small, he used to give me plenty to worry about. It wasn't easy being his mother. He used to break all his toys systematically, you know. He liked to take them to pieces but didn't often put them back together again. And it wasn't just his toys. He used to take everything apart: the clock, the stereo, the electric toothbrush. Once he even took the refrigerator to pieces.'
As if to confirm what she was saying, the old clock in the living room started to chime lugubriously. It had been through the mill with little Edmond too.
'His other craze was building dens. He used to turn the house upside down to make hidey-holes. He built one out of blankets and umbrellas in the attic and another out of chairs and fur coats in his bedroom. He just liked to burrow inside them with all his treasures. Once when I looked in one, it was full of cushions and
bits and pieces of machinery. It actually looked quite cosy.' 'All children do that.'
'Maybe but it got really out of hand with him. He wouldn't sleep in his own bed any more, only in one of his little nests. He sometimes stayed in them for days at a time without moving. As if he were hibernating. Your mother said he must have been a squirrel in a previous life.'
Jonathan smiled to encourage her to go on.
'One day, he wanted to build a hut under the living-room table. That was the last straw as far as your grandfather was concerned. He was absolutely livid. He gave him a good hiding, got rid of all his nests and made him sleep in his bed.'
She gave a sigh.
'From that day on, we lost him. It was as if we'd cut his umbilical cord. We were no longer part of his world. I think it had to be done, though. He had to find out he couldn't get his own way all the time. It caused problems later on when he was growing up. He couldn't stand school. I know you're going to say, "Like all children," again but it went much deeper than that with him. Do you know many children who hang themselves with their belts in the toilets because their teacher has told them off? He hanged himself when he was seven. It was the cleaner who took him down.'
'Maybe he was too sensitive.'
'Sensitive? You must be joking. A year later, he tried to stab one of his teachers with a pair of scissors. He was aiming for the heart. It was lucky he only damaged his wallet.'
She raised her eyes to heaven. Scattered memories were falling on her thoughts like snowflakes.
'Things got a bit better later because some of the teachers managed to capture his interest. He got As in the subjects he liked and Es in all the others. It was always either A or E.'
'Mum said he was a genius.'
'Your mother was fascinated by him because he'd told her he was trying to attain "absolute knowledge". Your mother had believed in reincarnation since the age of ten and thought he must have been Einstein or Leonardo da Vinci in a previous life.'
'As well as a squirrel?'
'Why not? According to Buddha, it takes many lives to make a soul.'
'Did he take any IQ tests?'
'Yes. He did very badly in them. He scored eighty-five, which
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