Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, but to Philip Pullman, story-telling genius. I hope I have not distorted them too badly.

The Piano Teacher's Guest

Mrs Parry sat quietly on the old, worn sofa in Mrs Cooper's living room, opposite the piano. She had sat here for hours every day since Will had left her here. Why had he left her? He had said he had things to do. Things to do about the men that had kept coming to the house. They had asked her lots of questions, and they frightened her. They had made Will angry. He had made them go away. She smiled at the memory of his outraged face; he was just like Johnny...he was going to take up his father's mantle, she knew it.

She didn't know where Will was. Was he at home? If he was, then she had no need to worry, he could look after himself, along with the house, and Moxie, and her. He would probably come and get her soon, and they would go home together. He would tell her where he had been and what he had done, and she would listen to him while making him his dinner, and Moxie would purr and wrap her tail around their legs.

When would that be? She didn't know how long she had been here. Many days, weeks, possibly. The different routine here had confused her, the days melted into each other. Every day, she woke up in a girl's bedroom, a young person's bedroom. The walls were painted a sunny shade of yellow, with pale orange curtains, and in the wardrobe were fashionable clothes that didn't belong to her. It was quite a different room from the others in the house, which were decorated with reserved half-shades of colours, and floral patterns. On the walls were pictures of people she didn't know, but sometimes Mrs Cooper would tell her, and she would forget. She would then eat toast spread with strawberry jam for breakfast with Mrs Cooper, and drink tea made with real tea leaves. Will didn't know how to make tea without tea bags.

For the rest of the day, she would sit on the sofa, except for meal times and when Mrs Cooper had a pupil round for a lesson, when she would go upstairs and sit on her bed in the yellow bedroom. When she sat on the sofa, she would always count the numbers of different coloured flowers in the pattern of its fabric. There were always fifty six blue flowers, sixty one red flowers and fifty four and a half brown flowers. She didn't like the brown flowers, they looked dead and shriveled to her, and she didn't like the fact that half of one was always missing. She didn't point this out to Mrs Cooper, because although she was very kind to her, she tended to look at her strangely when she said things like that, and ask if she felt quite alright.

She had counted the flowers for the day, and now she was watching a quiz on the television which was buzzing in the corner. One of the contestants looked a little like Johnny. She felt the tears welling in her eyes and fought against them. She hated to cry in front of people, even Will. She longed to read Johnny's letters to herself, but the green writing case was at home, where Will was. She did have a postcard from Will though. She slept with it next to her pillow on a bedside table. It showed a picture of a city with ancient looking buildings, but further out were suburbs just like the one she lived in with Will. "That's Oxford" Mrs Cooper had said when she had seen it. "One of my sons-in-law lives there" she'd explained. Mrs Parry had shown some interest in Mrs Cooper's relatives, but she wondered what Will was doing in Oxford. She hoped he had some money and somewhere to stay...

Her battle against the threatening tears won, Mrs Parry set her attention on the quiz questions. Capital city of Norway? Patron saint of travelers? Who wrote Paradise Lost? She answered a few in her head. She expected it would be lunch soon, she could hear Mrs Cooper moving plates around in the kitchen. She called out, "Do you want any help?" She heard Mrs Cooper stop what she was doing, startled by the offer. Mrs Parry didn't often speak without prompting, and then she heard, "Yes, dear, if you don't mind."

Mrs Parry got up and went into the kitchen, and sliced up some cucumber for a salad. She could feel Mrs Cooper's eyes on her, but also that she was delighted to see her strange guest so animated. Mrs Cooper hadn't said anything to her friends and neighbours about the strange boy who had so urgently asked her to take care of his mother for a few days. The few days had long since elapsed, she felt, but as the boy had so strongly insisted, Mrs Parry was not ill, she was just confused. Now, after weeks of sitting almost silently, she seemed to be coming alive before her eyes. Mrs Cooper smiled as she watched her guest busily working, when Mrs Parry looked up and saw her watching. She smiled warmly, and to Mrs Cooper, it was like the sun shining on first flowers of spring.

At that moment, the doorbell rang sharply, and the two women jumped. "Oh my," exclaimed Mrs Cooper, "If that's Edward, he is half an hour early for his lesson." She bustled over to the door, and opened it a crack to see who it was. It was a woman and a boy, but it was not Edward and his mother. The woman had healthy, rosy cheeks, dark eyes and hair, and an open smile on her sun- tanned face. The boy had a square jaw, and the same eyes as the woman now slicing cucumber in her kitchen, but with an even deeper sadness in them. "Mrs Cooper," the boy began, "This is Dr Malone, and..." but he had stopped. He was staring over her shoulder, his eyes, so familiar, filling suddenly with a pure joy. "Mum..." Behind her from the hall, Mrs Cooper heard her guest shout out,

"Will!"