Next to him the woman turned. Her voice quivered.
‘How did you do that?’ She spoke too loudly still.
‘I told you,’ he said. ‘They’re my rats. They’ll do what I tell them.’
‘Is it like a trick? Like trained rats? Don’t they scare you?’
As she spoke her eyes wavered from side to side. Her voice was unnaturally loud and abrupt. Her panic was over too quickly. She spoke to him as though she were a child. Saul suddenly understood that this woman was probably mentally ill.
Don’t treat her like a child, he thought warily. Don’t patronize her.
‘The rats don’t scare me, no,’ he said carefully. ‘I understand them.’
‘They frightened the shit out of me. I thought they were out to get me!’
‘Yeah, well I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know anyone was here when I sent them into the alley.’
‘It’s amazing that you can do that, I mean make rats do what you want!’ She grinned quickly.
There was silence. Saul looked around him but the rats remained hidden. He turned back to his companion. Her eyes were darting around like flies.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked.
‘Deborah.’
‘I’m Saul.’ They smiled at each other. ‘Now that you know the rats are mine,’ he said slowly, ‘would you still be scared of them?’
She looked at him questioningly. Saul sighed for a long time. He did not know what would happen next. He did not really know what he was doing. He was enjoying his words, rolling every one around his mouth. It was the first time since meeting Kay that he had spoken to a human being. He revelled in every sentence. He did not want the conversation to end.
‘I mean, I could bring them out again.’
‘I don’t know, I mean, aren’t they dirty and stuff?’
‘Not my lot. And if I tell them not to, they won’t touch you.’
Deborah twisted her face up. She was grinning, a sickly frightened grin.
‘Oh you know I don’t know I mean I don’t know…’
‘Don’t be scared, now. Look. I’ll call them out, and show you they do what I want.’ He turned his head slightly. He could smell the rats. They waited just out of sight, quivering. ‘Heads up,’ he said firmly, ‘heads only.’
There was a stirring in the debris and a hundred little heads poked up, like seals in the waves, sleek skulls under greased-back fur.
Deborah shrieked and put her hand over her mouth. Her head shook, and Saul saw that she was laughing.
‘It’s amazing…’ she said through her fingers.
‘Down,’ said Saul, and the heads disappeared.
Deborah laughed delightedly.
‘How do you do it?’
‘They have to do what I say,’ said Saul. ‘I’m the boss, as far as they’re concerned. I’m their prince.’ She looked at him in consternation. Saul felt irresponsible. He wondered if he was damaging her further. What she needs is reality, he thought, but the realization came firmly to him that this was reality, whether anyone liked it or not. And he wanted to keep talking to her.
‘Are you hungry, Deborah?’ She nodded. ‘Well, why don’t I get you some food?’ He jumped up and crept into Edgware Road, returned some seconds later with two pastries, intricate things encrusted with pistachios and icing sugar, which he put in Deborah’s lap.
She bit into one, licked her lips. She was obviously hungry.
‘I was asleep,’ she said, honey muffling her voice. ‘I heard the rats in my sleep and they woke me up. Oh, it’s OK. I’m glad I’m awake. I wasn’t sleeping very well, actually, I was dreaming horrible things.’
‘Wasn’t waking to a plague of rats a horrible thing?’
She laughed jerkily.
‘Only at first,’ she said. ‘Now I know they do what you tell them I don’t mind so much. It’s very cold.’ She had finished the pastries. She had eaten very fast.
There was a faint scratching. The rats were becoming impatient. Saul barked a brief order to be quiet and the sound ceased. It feels so easy, he thought, so simple to take control like this. It didn’t even excite him.
‘Do you want to go to sleep, Deborah?’
‘What do you mean? Her voice was suddenly suspicious, even afraid. She almost whined in her trepidation, and bundled herself up into her sleeping bag. Saul reached out to reassure her and she shrank away from him in horror and he realized with a sinking feeling that she had heard such a line before, but spoken with different intent.’
Saul knew that the streets were brutal.
He wondered how often she had been raped.
He moved his hands away, held them up in surrender.
‘I’m sorry, Deborah, I didn’t mean anything. I’m just not tired. I’m lonely, and I thought we could go for a wander.’ She still looked at him with terrified eyes. ‘The won’t… I’ll go, if you want.’ He did not want to leave. ‘I want to show you around. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.’
‘I don’t know I don’t know what you want to do…’ she moaned.
‘Don’t you want to do something?’ he said desperately. ‘Aren’t you bored? I swear I won’t touch you, won’t do anything, I just want some company…’
He looked at her and saw her wavering. He put on a silly expression, a clownish sad face, sniffed theatrically, nauseating himself.
Deborah laughed nervously.
‘Please,’ he said, ‘let’s go.’
‘Oh… OK…’ She looked pleased, even though nervous.
He grinned at her reassuringly.
He felt ill at ease, shockingly clumsy. Even the simplest mannerism cost him huge effort. He was relieved that he had not frightened her away.
‘I’ll take you up to the roofs, if you want, Deborah, and I’ll show you the quick way of getting around London on foot. Can I…’ He paused. ‘Can I bring the rats?’
Chapter Seventeen
Bring them, bring the rats, she said, after a little persuasion. It was obvious that, despite her fear, she was fascinated. Saul gave a long whistle and the rats appeared again, eager to show willing.
He did not know how it was he commanded them. It seemed to make no difference what words he used, or if he whistled, or gave a brief shout. He could not think an order for it to be obeyed, he had to make a sound, but the rats seemed to understand him through an empathy, not through language. He invested the sound he made with the spirit of an order for it to be obeyed.
He made the rats line up in rows, to Deborah’s delight. He made them move forward and backwards. When he had shown off and made the rats ridiculous, taking away Deborah’s fear, she would even touch one. She stroked it nervously as Saul murmured deep in his throat, held the rat in thrall so it would not panic, bite or run.
‘No offence or anything, Saul, but you smell, you know,’ she said.
‘It’s where I live. Smell it again; it’s not as bad as you think at first.’
She leaned over and sniffed him, wrinkled up her nose and shook her head apologetically.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ he said.
When she had lost her fear he suggested that they move. She looked nervous again, but nodded.
‘Which way?’ she said.
‘Do you trust me?’ Saul said.
‘I think so…’
‘Then hold on to me. We’re going up, straight up the walls.’
She did not understand at first, and when she did she was terrified, refused to believe that Saul could carry her. He reached out to her gently, slowly so as not to intimidate her, and when he was sure she did not mind being touched, he lifted her easily, held her with his arms outstretched, feeling his muscles snap hard with rat-strength. She laughed delightedly.
He felt like a superhero.
Ratman, he thought as he held her. Doing good with his bizarre rat-powers. Helping the mentally ill. Carrying them around London faster than shit through a sewer. He sneered at himself.