â listen to me!â
But Amelia flounced out of the kitchen and ran noisily upstairs to her room, slamming the door.
Ruth stood in the middle of the kitchen wondering if she ought to go after her. But from experience she would probably make things worse. Ameliaâs condition meant that she didnât see the world the way that other people saw it. She didnât understand lies. She didnât understand why some people were cruel and some people were untrustworthy. She didnât understand why, at fifteen years old, she couldnât take off all of her clothes to sunbathe. She didnât even understand the consequences of crossing a busy road without looking.
She couldnât see why tuna tasted delicious and vanilla ice cream tasted delicious but if you mushed them up together, that didnât make them twice as delicious, that made them inedible.
Ruth emptied her coffee mug into the sink, and as she did so she heard whining and scratching at the back door. She opened it, and Tyson came trotting in, with his long pink tongue hanging out like a facecloth.
âHi, Tyson!â she greeted him, and knelt down on one knee to stroke him and tug at his ears, which he adored. âDid Amelia let you out to do your business? Look â she cooked me breakfast! Wasnât that sweet of her? Would you like some? Iâd hate to see it all go to waste.â
She set down the plate of tuna lime refreshment in front of him. He sniffed at it, and snuffled, and then he let out a sharp bark, as if she had deliberately tried to poison him.
âOK, boy, sorry,â she said. She picked up the plate and scraped the tuna lime refreshment into the pedal-bin. When she looked inside, she saw that Amelia had made her omelet with eggs all scrambled up with whole segments of orange. She couldnât begin to imagine what was to be put into the âMexican energy juiceâ, but she could see that she had already taken a bottle of green Tabasco sauce out of the cupboard.
Tyson followed her around the kitchen as she cleared up the table mats and the cutlery, nudging her repeatedly with his nose.
â Tyson !â she complained, as she almost tripped over him. âYou know what your problem is? You should stop thinking youâre a human being. Youâre not. Youâre a Labrador retriever, and it doesnât matter how clever you are you will never be able to drive a car or take me out to dinner or even have a half-decent conversation about the economy. Itâs a bummer, I know, but there it is.â
Tyson looked up at her with his sad amber eyes. She tugged at his ears again, and he growled in the back of his throat, as if she had given him hope that he did have a chance with her, after all.
The phone warbled. She picked it up and said, âCutter residence. Hallo?â
âBoss? Itâs Jack Morrow here. Weâve got ourselves a suspicious fire â corner of South McCann and West Maple. And I mean highly suspicious. Iâd say youâd want to get over here as quick as you like.â
âOK. Whatâs the scenario?â
âYouâll see when you get here. Itâs pretty darn weird, to tell you the truth. No major property damage, but one fatality.â
âOn our way then.â
She knew that Tyson could tell they were going out on a call because his tail began to beat frantically against the kitchen units and he kept on licking his lips and snuffling, the way he always did when he was excited.
âCome on, boy,â Ruth said. âGive me a couple of minutes to get ready and then weâre on our way.â
Back in the bedroom, she lifted her dark blue uniform off the coat hanger behind the door and dressed as quietly as she could. Before she left, she went around to the other side of the bed and tugged down the blue-striped comforter. Craig snorted, but he didnât open his eyes. Most nights, he spent hour after hour wrestling with the
But Amelia flounced out of the kitchen and ran noisily upstairs to her room, slamming the door.
Ruth stood in the middle of the kitchen wondering if she ought to go after her. But from experience she would probably make things worse. Ameliaâs condition meant that she didnât see the world the way that other people saw it. She didnât understand lies. She didnât understand why some people were cruel and some people were untrustworthy. She didnât understand why, at fifteen years old, she couldnât take off all of her clothes to sunbathe. She didnât even understand the consequences of crossing a busy road without looking.
She couldnât see why tuna tasted delicious and vanilla ice cream tasted delicious but if you mushed them up together, that didnât make them twice as delicious, that made them inedible.
Ruth emptied her coffee mug into the sink, and as she did so she heard whining and scratching at the back door. She opened it, and Tyson came trotting in, with his long pink tongue hanging out like a facecloth.
âHi, Tyson!â she greeted him, and knelt down on one knee to stroke him and tug at his ears, which he adored. âDid Amelia let you out to do your business? Look â she cooked me breakfast! Wasnât that sweet of her? Would you like some? Iâd hate to see it all go to waste.â
She set down the plate of tuna lime refreshment in front of him. He sniffed at it, and snuffled, and then he let out a sharp bark, as if she had deliberately tried to poison him.
âOK, boy, sorry,â she said. She picked up the plate and scraped the tuna lime refreshment into the pedal-bin. When she looked inside, she saw that Amelia had made her omelet with eggs all scrambled up with whole segments of orange. She couldnât begin to imagine what was to be put into the âMexican energy juiceâ, but she could see that she had already taken a bottle of green Tabasco sauce out of the cupboard.
Tyson followed her around the kitchen as she cleared up the table mats and the cutlery, nudging her repeatedly with his nose.
â Tyson !â she complained, as she almost tripped over him. âYou know what your problem is? You should stop thinking youâre a human being. Youâre not. Youâre a Labrador retriever, and it doesnât matter how clever you are you will never be able to drive a car or take me out to dinner or even have a half-decent conversation about the economy. Itâs a bummer, I know, but there it is.â
Tyson looked up at her with his sad amber eyes. She tugged at his ears again, and he growled in the back of his throat, as if she had given him hope that he did have a chance with her, after all.
The phone warbled. She picked it up and said, âCutter residence. Hallo?â
âBoss? Itâs Jack Morrow here. Weâve got ourselves a suspicious fire â corner of South McCann and West Maple. And I mean highly suspicious. Iâd say youâd want to get over here as quick as you like.â
âOK. Whatâs the scenario?â
âYouâll see when you get here. Itâs pretty darn weird, to tell you the truth. No major property damage, but one fatality.â
âOn our way then.â
She knew that Tyson could tell they were going out on a call because his tail began to beat frantically against the kitchen units and he kept on licking his lips and snuffling, the way he always did when he was excited.
âCome on, boy,â Ruth said. âGive me a couple of minutes to get ready and then weâre on our way.â
Back in the bedroom, she lifted her dark blue uniform off the coat hanger behind the door and dressed as quietly as she could. Before she left, she went around to the other side of the bed and tugged down the blue-striped comforter. Craig snorted, but he didnât open his eyes. Most nights, he spent hour after hour wrestling with the