House of Sticks Read Free

to make and he was only indulging her.
    Fuck you . Bonnie put out her arm. ‘Come on, Louie.’
    â€˜No,’ said Louie, and pulled at Doug. ‘Let’s go in the workshop, Douggie.’
    â€˜No, come on, Lou-Lou.’ Bonnie shook her hand in the air, opened and closed her fingers as if she could drag Louie to her by force of will.
    â€˜No!’
    Doug stood with Louie rattling at him. He was looking straight at her, still with that smile on his face.
    Louie started to wail. ‘But I want to go in the workshop!’
    â€˜Come on, Lou-Lou. I’m sorry — I forgot to tell Doug about the new rule. Come on, possum.’ Bonnie walked over and tried to pick him up.
    â€˜No-oooo!’ went Louie. ‘I want to go in the workshop!’
    â€˜Come on, darling.’ She bent and grabbed him, pulling his hand out of Doug’s. Doug didn’t move.
    â€˜But — I — Want — To!’ shouted Louie.
    â€˜I know, I know. Come on, possum, let’s go in and you can listen to any talking book you like. Which one will you choose, do you think?’ And she hobbled back up the path and up the steps and in the door with Louie struggling, hanging from her arms the whole way.
    And just before she kicked the kitchen door shut, she couldn’t believe it but she heard herself call, breathlessly, over her shoulder and over Louie’s wailing, ‘Sorry, Doug!’
    â€˜And now we’re going to read another book about pigs,’ said the librarian into her headset, her voice booming through the speakers. She leaned forward to pick up the book, and there was the muffled thumping of the mic hitting her chest.
    â€˜What’s with the microphone?’ Mel whispered.
    â€˜God knows.’ Bonnie put her chin in her hand and her fingers over her mouth. Don’t laugh .
    The librarian held up the book to show the cover. ‘Can anyone guess what this book is called?’ The speakers crackled, and there was a faint whine of feedback.
    â€˜Why is it so loud?’ whispered Mel.
    Bonnie couldn’t answer. She was trying to hold it back, but the laugh was coming over her like something involuntary. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh . But it was like a sneeze, a building urge, tickling up between her ribs and towards her throat.
    â€˜That’s right!’ boomed the librarian. ‘It’s The Three Little Pigs !’ On the hiss at the end of pigs the feedback took off properly, in a slashing shriek that sent one little girl crying to her mother. The rest of the children sat as though stunned.
    â€˜Jesus,’ muttered Mel.
    Bonnie, tears in her eyes, tried to clear her throat, but it didn’t work — the laugh took hold. She tried to disguise it as a cough, but it broke through, shook its way out in a series of breathy, strangled sounds. ‘Excuse me.’ She got up and shuffled, bent over, past the row of other parents perched on tiny chairs, to the shelter of the nearest shelves, where she turned her back and tried to smother with both hands great shuddering gusts of laughter that racked her like sobs.
    â€˜ Once upon a time …’ thundered the voice behind her. Bonnie buried her face in the crook of her arm and braced her other hand on her knees. She hadn’t laughed like this since the last time she was stoned, however long ago that was.
    â€˜You okay?’ She felt Mel beside her, touching her arm.
    â€˜Yeah,’ she said, straightening and wiping her eyes. ‘Sorry. I just couldn’t stop laughing.’ She peered between the shelves. ‘The kids okay?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Mel, peering too. ‘I’m so paranoid now at this library.’
    â€˜Me too.’ Bonnie watched Edie and Louie sitting together, mouths agape, eyes scanning as the librarian turned the pages. She felt the last of the laugh go out of her like the final zip of air from a let-go balloon. ‘How long ago was