I, Coriander Read Free Page B

chair was far too heavy so I dragged it instead, as quietly as a chair can be dragged, then waited to make sure no one had heard me. I climbed up. Standing on tiptoe I was faced with the alligator. He looked more frightening close up, as if at any minute he would spring into action.
    Did I really want to see the shoes that much? Oh yes, I did, and more. I half shut my eyes. Shaking with fear, I reached into the alligator’s mouth and grabbed the key. If the alligator snapped his jaw shut I did not feel it, I did not see it.
    I climbed down and opened the cabinet. Inside were many tiny drawers beautifully inlaid with cedarwood. I was not sure which one to choose.
    I stood very still holding my breath and then I heard it again, this time no more than a whisper.
    ‘Coriander, Coriander.’
    I pulled open a drawer at the bottom and there they were, the most magical pair of shoes in the world. They were like glass. They were like diamonds. They were like stars.
    Oh, I thought, what harm if I just tried them on?
    The shoes fitted as if they were made for me. I stood marvelling at their beauty. How long I stood like that, I do not know. It must have been some time because to my alarm I heard my name being called, and not in a whisper.
    ‘Coriander, Coriander! Where is the child?’
    I quickly tried to take the shoes off, but they would not leave my feet. It was as if they were attached to me. In a panic of getting found out, I managed to close the drawer and put the key back into the alligator’s mouth just before Danes opened the door.
    ‘Coriander, what are you doing here, you ninny?’ she said. ‘We have been looking high and low for you. Come, the barge is about to leave.’
     
    T he good thing about living by the river was that we had our very own water gate and mooring, so that there were proper steps down to our barge. Therefore there was no need to lift my skirt too high, and my shoes went unnoticed. I told myself that in the evening I would take them off and put them back, but just for today they would be mine.
    We were rowed upriver past Whitehall, where the city gives way to open fields and pastures, the water losing its look of mercury and becoming clearer like the air. There in a meadow full of flowers our bargemen pulled the boat out of the river up on to the bank. Everyone then set to the task of making a day of doing nothing as comfortable as could be. Baskets of food were put under the trees, bottles of wine left to chill in the water and fishing lines set up for those in need of some sport.
    While all this was going on I slipped away out of sight and sat down on a grassy bank, hoping that this time the shoes would come off. I pulled at them, and they slipped off with no trouble at all. I thought that I must have imagined they would not come off. I put them safely under some leaves where I knew no one would find them.
    My mother too took off her shoes and stockings and, lifting her skirts, chased me round the meadow, her hair coming down, my cap flying off as we ran round and round until we fell in a heap of giggles. I made her daisy chains and found flowers for her hair. I paddled in the river, watched little fishes swim over my toes, was twirled like a windmill in my father’s arms.
    The day drifted past. It was time to retrieve my silver shoes. I was careful to keep my skirt well pulled down as we lay under the oak tree on an array of rugs and cushions like Roman emperors, eating our feast with dappled sunshine for our candles. My father had even arranged for three musicians to play sweet songs to us. In all this enjoyment I forgot what I had done until much later, when we were once more homeward bound.
    The night rolled in over the river and stole the day away. The watermen lit lanterns on their boats so that the river twinkled and danced with lights. I was sleepy after such a wonderful day of fresh air and food.
    My mother said suddenly and sharply, ‘Coriander, where did you get those shoes?’
    I was