Never again would he listen, mesmerised at the sound of the small man�s stories; hear his songs, the tunes he made up off the top of his head. None of that - ever again.
�A bit shy is he,� Milligan sniggered. �Or maybe he�s a little deaf.�
Michael rounded on Milligan. �You heard him. You can�t deny that! He just heard voices, got scared and disappeared, that�s all!�
�Is that what you t�ink?� replied Milligan. �See, what I t�ink happened is that you forgot to lock that cage, the bird got out and landed on that book which you had left hanging over the edge.�
Michael ridiculed it with an exaggerated shake of his head but his mind flocked to earlier. He had left the book right on the very edge of the chest of drawers. And he probably had left Cleopatra�s cage open. Michael sat down thoughtfully on his bed, not noticing that there was no groan from the bed�s springs.
�And there was me thinking that you�d just made up those stories,� Milligan scorned sarcastically.
Michael didn�t look up and instead put his head in his hands as he heard the sounds of Milligan�s Zimmer frame and his vociferous comments disappearing down the corridor.
Where had Snotch gone? His first hope was that Snotch had been scared away by Cleopatra getting out of her cage. Though he knew better. Denial turned to despair. Why, oh why had he risen to Milligan�s taunts? Michael was well aware of Snotch�s warnings about fellow members of the human race. And he still had one wish left, a wish he had been intending to use on -
�I believe you.�
Michael jumped. Mrs Collins was still in the doorway. If she felt pity for Michael then her face didn�t give her away.
�Thank you,� was all Michael could manage.
She smiled warmly before leaving him by himself, closing the door softly behind her as she went.
Maybe only a few minutes had passed but he felt like he hadn�t moved in days when he finally stood up. Again the bed didn�t groan. Michael lifted the book from the floor and returned it, this time to the worn out bookcase.
A tiredness, as if he�d never experienced sleep before, washed over him. Still with a heavy heart he sat back down on the top of his bed, lifted his legs and lay back. If only he�d just kept his cool then none of - Was it his imagination or had his bed suddenly found some hidden comfort? Or�
He sat up as quickly as his arthritic back would allow him and pulled back the covers. A new bed! The very thing he had been planning to use his last wish on! The only reason he hadn�t was because that would mean that Snotch would no longer have to remain here. He knew saving his last wish for so long had been selfish of him, demanding that Snotch remained in his company but oh, how he loved his company, and surely Snotch appreciated his in return. So that�s what Poppy had meant when she�d talked about there being a surprise waiting for Michael when he returned.
There came a knock at his door.
�Come in,� Michael invited hoarsely. His mood still felt sour but at least now it felt like a spoonful of sugar had been added.
It was Poppy.
Surely his loneliness couldn�t have fabricated all those memories he had of the miniscule man. Yet he had no pictures, no substantial evidence apart from his own memories that Snotch had ever existed. But Snotch had always forbidden taking pictures, Michael tried to appeal with himself. The more he considered it however, the more likely it became. Maybe there was no such being as Snotch and he was just a crazed old man after all.�Well Michael I promised you a surprise,� she beamed.
Michael tried miserably to return her smile with one of his own. He knew he was appearing ungrateful but he just couldn�t manage it. Not with Snotch gone.
�Well you�ve wanted a new one for so long and I thought you were well overdue a treat. I had two delivery men bring it up.�
Michael�s mind went back to the two men dressed in the pale green coveralls before his attention began to stray to the point where Poppy�s words seemed to grouping erratically inside his head. The sound of her voice, due to the distraction of recent events, slowly grew more and more distant. Poppy�s mouth continued to move but the sound of the words coming out were now virtually indistinguishable. Maybe, just maybe, Milligan and all the rest were right. What if Snotch was and always had been nor more than a figment of his imagination? Since his wife had died Michael had been understandably lonely. Surely his loneliness couldn�t have fabricated all those memories he had of the miniscule man. Yet he had no pictures, no substantial evidence apart from his own memories that Snotch had ever existed. But Snotch had always forbidden taking pictures, Michael tried to appeal with himself. The more he considered it however, the more likely it became. Maybe there was no such being as Snotch and he was just a crazed old man after all. �Michael?�
Michael jumped. He�d forgotten about Poppy.
�Are you alright?� she asked, a look of concern replacing the grin.
�I�m fine, thank you,� he said, sitting back down on his new bed and remembering his manners. �Oh and thank you for the new bed.�
�Bed?� she asked in a bemused sort of way.
Her face demonstrated her surprise.
�I haven�t been buying you a new bed, Michael.� If she was lying then she was a damn fine actress.
�Then what�?�
�I bought you a new wardrobe, you�ve wanted one for a long time remember? Thought it�d look nice for when your family visit.�
�So you didn�t buy me a new bed?�
�No,� she tried to laugh though stopped with the serious look that Michael was giving her. �Why, has somebody bought you a new bed?� Her eyebrows came together.