The Imaginary (19 page)

The flap was unlocked, which was a good thing, and his head was out in the fresh air of the garden, but his shoulders wouldn't go through.

Somewhere nearby he heard the sound of an engine starting up, a car's engine turning over.

Then there was that tingle in his feet, that tingle in his hands. If he was being ignored, being
unbelieved
by Julia, maybe he could use it to his advantage. He thought of Amanda, tried to remember what the feeling had been like before he had met Zinzan, when he had believed she'd gone and left him alone in the world. How soft, how wispy he'd felt then.

He had to think she was dead, had to believe Julia hated him. He tried to remember Emily, how she'd gone too, but found he couldn't quite remember what she'd looked like. She was Fading in his memory, just like she had in everyone else's.

There was a smell of gunpowder in the air, the whiff you get from firing a cap gun ten times in a row, but no one had been shot.

Rudger was Fading.

He twisted and pushed and his shoulders grew soft.

The plastic rim of the cat flap felt like sand, like dust, and with a sudden
fluff
he slipped through, out into the garden.

Hitting the ground didn't hurt.

He picked himself up. He felt so sad. His heart ached. He just wanted to sit down and let it all go, but then he heard the
sound
of wheels on gravel, the noise of a car moving off, and he remembered what he was doing this for.

He stood up straight, the crazy paving beneath his feet grew hard again, and he ran. He pulled the gate open and sprinted through.

There was Julia's car, reversing away from him. He could see her mother looking over her shoulder, watching where she was going, and he could see Julia in the back seat pointing at him. She was saying something he couldn't make out.

There was no way, he realised, Julia was going to let him in the car, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He ran at it, leapt up onto the bonnet and grabbed hold of the windscreen wipers.

Julia's mother couldn't see him, of course, so he wasn't blocking her view of the road, but Julia could. She was pointing and shouting from the back seat.

Rudger couldn't make out the words.

He knew one thing though. While he clung there on the bonnet, straight in front of her, there was no way Julia could
not
believe in him. He felt more real than he had all day: the hot metal under his chest, the cool glass against his knuckles.

And then they drove off, and the wind, which had been of no concern, suddenly became of no small concern.

Rudger had never ridden on the bonnet of a car before, and he had never worn a skirt before either. Amanda always encouraged
him
to be open to new experiences and this morning he was getting two of them.

The wind whipped his skirt up over his head, like a blanket covering the whole windscreen, exposing his legs, and whatever knickers Julia had imagined for him, to the whole world. Thank goodness, he thought, for not being real. (And thank goodness she'd imagined him having any knickers at all.) This could have been
incredibly
embarrassing, instead of just, as it was,
very
embarrassing.

To Julia, who was watching from inside the car, the sight of the entire windscreen covered by Veronica's skirt was a bizarrely confusing and worrying experience. On the one hand, she could imagine what the other side looked like, and that was quite funny, but on the other hand, the
entire windscreen
was covered up with a skirt and her mother was still driving.

Julia didn't know how to drive, but she had a feeling that being able to see where you were going was one of the things that drivers like.

‘Mummy,' she said, anxiety leaking into her voice.

‘Yes, darling?' her mum said.

‘She's still there.'

‘On the bonnet, darling?' Her mum sounded calm. Eerily so.

‘Yeah. Put the windscreen wipers on.'

‘But it's not raining.'

‘Just do it.'

Julia's
mother, unsure what else to do with a daughter growing ever more hysterical in the back of the car, flicked the switch that started the wipers wiping.

Rudger clung on.

Eventually the car pulled up in the hospital car park.

‘Now, darling,' Julia's mum said as they climbed out of the car. ‘We've got to look for a sign that says “Child Psychologist”. Can you help me look?'

They walked off toward the huge building. Its hundreds of windows glinted in the sunshine like an illuminated cliff-face.

Julia looked back at the car one last time and gave a wicked little laugh.

By the time they'd come to a stop Rudger was sore all over and very cold up the skirt. The whole thing would've been easier to cope with in trousers. Amanda would definitely have given him trousers, he thought, every time. (Although, thinking that, he realised that, had Amanda known Rudger
could
travel on the bonnet of the car, she would've made him do it by now, just for fun. He made a mental note to never mention it to her, just in case.)

Once Julia and her mum had gone he slid himself off the bonnet.

He wobbled like a boy who's just got off a runaway roundabout, or been through a washing machine.

He
caught a glimpse of himself in the car's wing mirror and saw the strange red-haired girl he'd become staring back at him.

When the world had finally stopped doing its impression of a rolling South Atlantic seascape, he stood up straight and walked towards the hospital.

Rudger had to keep brushing his hair out of his eyes and pushing his tatty skirt down at each sharp gust of wind. He'd had no practice dressing like this. It took getting used to.

He wondered how long it would last; whether, now Julia had disowned him, he'd change back to normal, or whether he'd be stuck this way forever. Or rather, until he Faded. The tingle had returned.

His first task was to find Amanda. That would be the answer, surely? She'd imagine him back the way he
should
be.

Rudger walked up to the glass doors at the entrance to the hospital. They slid apart as he approached. That was very welcoming. Very friendly. After all he'd been through, a little friendliness really lifted his spirits.

He walked into the reception area.

There
was a counter with a sign saying
Information
hanging above it. They'd be able to tell him where Amanda was, except…

Except he was imaginary. The person sat behind the desk couldn't see him.

But that was easy, wasn't it? All he had to do was sneak behind the counter and find a list of rooms or something. How hard could that be?

In a moment he was stood behind the receptionist, looking over his shoulder at folders full of bits of paper. They didn't seem to be any help. The hospital was a big place, the lists went on for page after page and Rudger didn't understand what all the abbreviations and numbers next to people's names meant.

This was worse than useless.

Maybe if he found a sign to the children's ward (they'd put all the children together, wouldn't they?) then he could just search bed by bed. Maybe that would be best.

As he thought that thought he happened to look up.

The automatic doors were sliding open and a man was coming in. Rudger recognised him in an instant. It was the way he ran his hand through his moustache. It was the way he slid his dark glasses up onto the top of his bald head. It was the way he looked exactly like Mr Bunting.

It was Mr Bunting.

Rudger crouched down and ten seconds later heard his voice addressing the receptionist.