‘Rolfa? Rolfa? She’s still with you Squidges, in’t she?’ The old dam spoke to someone still hidden behind the door. ‘Shawnee?’ she asked. There was a low murmuring reply. Milena couldn’t hear because the old woman suddenly snorted back mucus and then swallowed with a noisy gulp. There were smears of mucus on the fur of her arms.
‘Yep. Yep. She’s gone. Where is Rolfa? Don’t know!’ The old woman shifted on her crutches, and suddenly Milena saw that she was miserable. ‘Seems like they would have told me if she was back.’ She breathed heavily, a deep sigh, as if her bulk made breathing difficult. ‘I am her mother, after all.’
‘You’re Rolfa’s mother?’ Milena felt something like dismay.
‘You’re the Cold Little Fish, ahn’t you?’ said Rolfa’s mother, not at all unkindly. ‘Why don’t you come inside?’
‘I’m very sorry. It’s cold for me inside.’ October winds buffeted Milena, blowing her scarf over her head.
‘Looks pretty cold for you out there too. I can’t stand up, honey, and I’d like to talk to you.’
The mother Bear turned. She swung herself on her crutches towards a packing case and began to lower herself onto it. From behind the door, a little human maid in billowing furs scuttled forward and took the old woman’s arm. Milena stepped forward to help as well.
‘They made this over into my room. Nice, in’t it?’ the old dam said.
Milena said that she agreed. The front room was as cold as Milena remembered it and even more stark. It was now completely bare, except for the packing cases. The old dam asked for tea and the human maid scurried away to fetch some. For just an instant her frightened eyes caught Milena’s.
‘I had to go and break my leg,’ complained the GE. ‘And end up in this place. I just feel like some old walrus who can’t pull her bulk around. It really is time I was put down. You sit by me, honey, and keep warm.’
Milena did, and Rolfa’s mother enveloped her in a hug.
‘You’re the one who wants to help Rolfa sing, ahn’t you?’
The familiar smell of lanolin and the familiar, basking warmth.
‘Yes, Mam,’ Milena said. She found herself using the honorific.
‘Well that’s good. Rolfa never was meant for anywhere, unless it was someplace she could sing. I’d have helped her too, but I couldn’t stand this place. Couldn’t stand it, you understand me? I expect Rolfa’s just the same.’ She paused. ‘There’s trouble, in’t there? She’s done another bunk.’
‘They tried to cure her,’ said Milena.
‘Of what? Being Rolfa?’ The old dam seemed to know, instantly, what Milena meant.
Milena could only nod.
‘Well her father will be happy with that. That’s the biggest favour you people could have done him. I’m not happy though.’
‘Neither am I,’ whispered Milena.
‘Aw, hell, honey, I can see that. You want some whisky?’
Milena shook her head. ‘She’s disappeared. I think she’s hibernating again. But she was very hungry when she left.’
The bottle paused in mid-air. Again, the old woman understood: Rolfa was in danger.
‘I was hoping she was here,’ Milena said, and even to herself her voice sounded drained and hopeless.
‘Well, we’ll just have to go and look for her.’ Rolfa’s mother looked at Milena. ‘We may have to bring in the rest of the Family, though. People are going to be pretty mad.’
‘I know,’ murmured Milena, and braced herself.
Zoe was the first to come down the stairs.
‘You did what?’ Zoe demanded.
‘We gave her the viruses. It was the only way.’
‘You gave my sister your horrible Squidgey viruses?’
Milena felt herself cringe. ‘It was a pre-condition of her performing. I’m sorry. It was a mistake. It was the only way I had to get her into the Zoo.’
‘My God,’ said Zoe, pressing her hand to her forehead. ‘She could have dropped down anywhere.’ Zoe looked at her mother. ‘We’ll have to call out the dogs, Ma,’ she said. Zoe looked back at Milena with a strange, grim smile. ‘You are going to have come with us,’ she said. ‘And don’t think it’s going to be a pleasant ride.’
Two huge cattle trucks roared up outside the Polar household. They were full of excited, yelping dogs. Young Polar men stood on the rails that surrounded the flatbeds. They shouted out to the house as the engines rumbled. The engines were on display, nickel-plated and polished like mirrors. Bears swarmed out of the house, full of gleeful aggression, climbing up the slats of the trucks. One of them was blowing a hunting horn.
This, thought Milena, could be a real mess. Zoe ushered her towards the trucks, hand on the back of Milena’s neck. Was there any way she could warn the Zoo? Could she slip the human maid some money to run across London? The trucks would get there first.
Something growled at her. Between the slats of the truck, a pair of blue eyes, a husky’s eyes, were fixed on her. ‘He knows you’re a Squidge,’ chuckled a Polar teenager, astride the rails.
Milena was loaded into the cab, squeezed between massive Polar thighs. They cushioned her as the truck swooped and veered across London, beeping its horn, swerving around horse carts, making people jump out of the way. Milena was not used to moving at speed; her stomach kept plunging in different directions. She felt slightly giddy and ill. ‘Yee-ha!’ called the driver.
Suddenly the truck was bouncing up and over pavements and onto the embankment gardens. Here already? Milena had not even noticed them going over the bridge. The other truck skidded up beside them, brakes locked, sliding across the grass.
Young Bears launched themselves over the sides. The slats were raised and the dogs bounded down. The Polar huskies looked like thunderclouds, thick and white and massive. The dogs were clipped onto leashes and then led, straining against them, towards the Zoo.
The Bears filled the main lobby, laughing at the blank surprise on the faces of the Zoo administrators. The Tykes at the desks came forward to protest. ‘Aww!’ said the Bears and picked them up like the children they were. ‘Put me down! Put me down!’ the children wailed, and began to weep.
Rolfa’s old socks and shorts were pressed under the noses of the dogs. Then they were let loose.
Matinee performances were interrupted as packs of huskies surged down the aisles, sniffing. Dogs poured onto the stages, searching the corners and corridors of the backstage mazes. Zoe marched Milena through the upper floors. Broom closets and waiting rooms full of resting Postpeople were searched. In the rehearsal halls, musicians stood on chairs, holding their flutes and violins out of the reach of the playfully snapping dogs.
‘OK,’ said Zoe. ‘Where else could she have slumped off to?’
‘We’ve already looked in most other places,’ murmured Milena.
‘Well think of some more!’ demanded Zoe.
Milena took Zoe on the small round that had been her life with Rolfa. She led her down the Cut, hoping to steer the Bears towards Leake Street and the Graveyard. They threw open the doors of the shops and ran up the stairs to the rooms above. The Bears had such fun. They took boisterous revenge for years of misunderstanding. Milena stood in the street and heard them laugh, incredulous at the way Squidges had to live, their small cookers, their few possessions. She heard things fall and break in the rooms. Off in the distance, bells began to ring in the continuous series of strokes that signalled emergency. Dogs came lolloping back down the steps, their thick white coats and heavy feet looking as springy as mattresses. A Polar man reeled out after them, wearing some Squidgey woman’s sad straw hat.
The Bears rollicked their way down Leake Street. A contingent was left to scour the Graveyard. Out on the other side of the tunnel, more trucks were pulling up in the embankment gardens. ‘We haven’t done that building,’ said Zoe to the newcomers, pointing towards the Shell. ‘I’m going to check the hospital. You,’ she said to Milena, ‘you just stick around where we can find you. Zoo main hall. Go on.’