tapestries and cloth hangings. Of course it was the costumes that worried Chloe. No doubt if it was her nightmare, it was Alex’s dream. If Alex wanted to be a pirate, he could be one in seconds. Or Henry IV. Or Peter Pan, Sinbad the Sailor, Ali Baba. He could be anything he wanted to be. All the costumes were here along with their trappings.
She glanced at her brother. Indeed, his eyes had lit up as he reached for a plastic Roman helmet.
‘We haven’t got time for plays, Alex,’ she said quickly. ‘Come on. We must catch up with Jordy.’
‘Plays?’
‘You know, messing about with costumes and things …’
‘Ah,’ said a voice from behind them, ‘do I detect that we have a Thespian among us? How gratifying.’
Chloe whirled round. At first she could not see the speaker. Then she realised he was standing in the shadows of a stage set. Was he ugly? He certainly wasn’t pretty. With his hooked nose and pointed chin she recognised him instantly. Punch. Of Punch and Judy. He was wearing his traditional brightly coloured costume, including a hat with points and bells. Punch came forward, gliding forward on a skirt, the hem of which brushed the dust on the floor.
‘Ah,’ said Punch, following her eyes and looking down at himself, ‘you’re wondering how I walk, aren’t you, madam? Being a hand-puppet, I should have no legs, eh? I decline to reveal my secret. It’s a puppet thing. I hope you won’t consider it poor manners on my behalf to keep it close.’ He reached them and held out a small mittened hand. ‘How do you do? Punch is the name. But – oh bliss, oh gratification – you know me, don’t you? You know this old ham. I can see by your expressions. Many children don’t, these days,’ he sighed, ‘there being so many other distractions for the young. Computers, video games, TV, mobile phones. Still, the seaside remains the seaside, even if most of them go to Spain in these affluent times.’
To her irritation, Chloe found herself shaking the tiny wooden paw.
‘How do you do?’
Alex said generously, ‘You’re not an old ham – I thought you were a pretty good actor when I saw you at my seventh birthday party.’
‘A fan! My boy, you’ve a voice for sore ears. Thank you from the bottom of my little wooden heart,’ replied Punch. He sighed again. ‘Of course, I always wished to play Hamlet. We all did. I know I would have made a magnificent Hamlet. Not to be.’ He smiled wistfully. ‘There’s a little joke in there, if you care to look for it. Very weak, but subtle.’ He brightened again. ‘Come on home and meet the missus. She’d be tickled to see real people again. Ah! Aha! Young lady, I can see what you’re thinking, but our domestic scene is one of bliss, off-stage. We get on very well, Judy and I, in our way. Of course the violence on stage is pretty bad, but it’s traditional you know, and the croc sorts me out at the end. I mean, where would television soaps be without the domestic violence? But I know what you mean, I truly do. It’s a bad influence on the kids. That’s another reason why we’ve been discarded, thrown up into the attic. Times change, attitudes change, and if you can’t change with them, then you’re made redundant. Come on, I’ll take you back to the village …’
Alex looked at Chloe and shrugged, grinning broadly.
‘What can we lose, sis?’ He trotted up beside Punch, who was stepping out a bit. ‘Have you got anything to eat there?’
‘We can certainly rustle you up something. Do you like birds’ eggs? Of course you do, a chicken is a bird, isn’t it? Well, we can find lots of eggs in the eaves. Not as big as those produced by chickens, who unfortunately don’t fly up to gutters and get in through holes, but they lay eggs just the same. I’m sure you could put away a dozen or so, couldn’t you?’
‘Definitely,’ replied Alex. ‘Thanks a lot.’
‘Don’t mention it. Ah.’ Punch’s voice had lowered as they approached the puppet village. ‘There’s that fellow Krishna. Thinks a lot of himself because he represents a holy figure – a Wayang Kulit he calls himself – but he’s not so bad.’ He raised his voice again. ‘Hi there, Krishna. Look who I’ve found. People like us, from down below.’
People like us? thought Chloe.
There, standing beneath a colourful