Little Grey Mice Read Online Free PDF

to take that morning, on her way here. Until there was nothing more she could think to say. Throughout it all, Ursula sat head to one side, enjoying the contact, the deep-throated murmur rising and falling.
    The only other sound in the quiet room was the violin concerto. Elke thought she recognized a repeat of the movement that had been playing when she entered and guessed the machine reversed automatically, for the music to be continuous. Ursula’s room was sparse but very neat. The bed was crisply made, the edges and the sheet folded and tucked to a hospital pattern. There were some picture books lined correctly upright on a shelf, as if they were important tomes. Ursula’s dressing gown hung from a hook beneath which her slippers were placed tidily side by side. The drawers of the dressing table were all closed: nowhere did clothes lie casually discarded. At the head of the bed was an array of summons buttons: Elke knew the red one, attached to a cord, to be an emergency bell.
    Ursula suddenly straightened her head, shaking it, as if irritated now by the caress, no longer comforted by it. Elke withdrew her hand again.
    â€˜Shall we go outside for a walk, darling? Take Poppi for a walk? It’s a lovely day outside. Sunshine.’
    The child gave no indication of having heard. Elke took her daughter’s limp hand and pulled, very gently, for Ursula to stand. The girl moved as if to do so but then snatched away and settled back in the seat.
    â€˜All right,’ said Elke. ‘We won’t go out then.’
    Ursula felt towards the dog again, not a prodding move as before but with both hands, to receive it. For a moment Elke was too surprised to respond but quickly passed it over. Poppi, a lap dog at ease on any lap, immediately settled. Ursula cuddled him, both arms around him, and started rocking back and forth as she had been when Elke arrived, crooning tunelessly again. Elke smiled, delighted, always eager for the smallest omen: Ursula had never before shown such recognition, not even when she had been living at home. Dr Schiller might insist Ursula could never improve, but what was this if it wasn’t improvement, a child doing something perfectly normal and natural, like loving her pet? Briefly she was tempted to call the man, to call someone at least, to see if they regarded it as a sign of anything, but held back. If this was the slightest emergence from the shadows in which Ursula lived the sudden, maybe flustered, arrival of the medical staff might upset her, wrecking everything. Elke decided to wait. Wait just a few minutes. Just in case. Then call someone.
    So immersed was she in the hopeful reflection that Elke was slow to recognize what was happening: later, seeking some little excuse, she remembered at the beginning there was very little sign of anything happening. Her initial impression was that Poppi was just shifting himself, to a more comfortable position on Ursula’s lap. But the movement increased, becoming panicked, and Elke saw the dog’s legs scrabbling for purchase; his head turned frantically to snap, but Ursula was holding him in such a way that the dog couldn’t reach to bite. He began to yap, terrified: it was not a loud sound but a gasping one and Elke realized, appalled, that Ursula was holding him so tightly that the breath was being crushed from his body.
    She grabbed out, clutching Ursula’s arm, tugging to loosen the grip, but the arm was rigid, too strong for her to move.
    â€˜Ursula!’ said Elke, trying to remain calm. ‘Let the dog go, darling! Let Poppi go!’
    There was no movement from the girl, not as much as a head turn in Elke’s direction. Elke was sure the sounds from the animal were growing fainter. He made another futile effort to bite his way free, tongue lolling. Elke pulled again at Ursula’s arm and the dog tried to bite her, grazing her wrist.
    â€˜Let go!’ yelled Elke, ignoring the long ago warning never