seems to feel it too and he uncurls his fingers and holds his breath. Merlin slaps my legs with his tail.
So, how is Pea today? says Claude.
Fine, I say.
And Margot?
Margot is fine too, I say, because this is my conversation. And how are you?
Impeccable, says Claude. I roll the word around on my tongue, it is a new one. AmPeKarBleu. Lovely.
Look what I found, he says, pointing into the grass. There are little brown mushrooms hiding in amongst the green.
Can we eat them? Margot and I say together. Mushrooms are delicious. We could make sandwiches.
No, says Claude. You can’t eat anything you find down here.
But I like mushrooms, says Margot.
I really like mushrooms, I say. And I’m hungry.
Again! says Margot.
I’m always hungry.
Well, says Claude, maybe in the autumn we will go out together and find lots of mushrooms, and we will take them down to the pharmacy to see which ones are good.
Don’t you know? I say.
I do and I don’t, says Claude.
What does that mean? Margot asks.
Here, look at this one, says Claude. He has a wet stick in his hand and he pokes at a big white snowball in the grass. A puff of smoke comes out of it, like magic.
Wow!
Puffball, says Claude. And no eating those either.
I am going to add it to my list of ‘Don’t Dos’, says Margot. But it’s getting very long now; I need more paper, please.
Where have they all come from, so quickly? I ask.
The toadstools? says Claude. The storm brought them. Speaking of which, are you all dry now?
Margot fluffs her hair up to show him and I do the same.
The peaches are broken, I say.
Broken?
They have holes in them. The ants are eating them.
Ah, he says. And, Oh. And, So that’s why . . .
Last night there was a night rainbow, I say.
I saw it first, says Margot.
A night rainbow?
Yes! I say. Have you ever seen one?
I didn’t know you could have night rainbows, says Claude.
You can, I say. There was one right outside our house and it had all the colours, just like in the daytime. I saw it. It was like magic, it was . . . I stop, because Claude is staring at me with that look again. As though he can see through me and behind me there is something that is making him smile.
What? I say.
Pea, says Claude, I believe you.
Oh.
Um, how is your maman today? he says.
I heard you, I say.
You heard me?
You know how Maman is; you were there when she was throwing the peaches.
Claude’s face is flat with surprise. Ah, he says. You heard me.
Yes, I say. Your feet have a special sound because of the tiger-bite walk that you do. Can I have a go at throwing the stick?
Of course, says Claude. I just . . .
I pick up the stick, slimy with dog spit, and throw it as hard as I can. It bounces on the ground right by my toes and almost hits my face coming back up again.
Oh la la! says Claude. Here, let me show you. He crouches down behind me with one knee on the floor, and he holds my wrists from behind. A bit too hard but I don’t say anything.
Hey! says Claude, turning my arm so he can see the old scabs and the new scratches. What happened here?
I don’t know, I say.
You don’t know? Did you fall over? Did somebody hurt you? You need some antiseptic on that.
I don’t know, I say. Maman said it was broken when I was a baby.
Broken? Claude runs one finger over the pink skin and the bobbly red scabs. But this? he says, where it was bleeding.
It stings. I snatch my arm away. It itches, I say. I was scratching it.
Don’t scratch it, says Claude. You’ll make it worse.
Can I throw the stick now? I say.
OK, he says. First, look where you want the stick to go. So, remember that rainbow you were telling me about?
Yes . . .
Now you have to imagine the stick is going to make the same shape, from here to there. Can you see the rainbow?
I can, it’s easy. Yes, I say.
Show me the shape with your finger.
I draw the rainbow in the sky.
Great, says Claude, so now you throw the stick up the rainbow like you were trying to reach the very top. He pulls my wrist down and back. Are you ready? Off you go.
He lets go of my wrist and I fling the stick forwards with a grunt. It