Look into My Eyes - Lauren Child

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dinner, Ruby’s parents burbled on about the wonderful hotel and the delicious schnitzel and the beautiful Alps. And the conversation went something like this:

      SABINA: ‘Quite the tastiest schnitzel I have ever tasted.’

      BRANT: ‘And what about those Alps! Talk about high.’

      Until Ruby wished they would start talking about the Jade Buddha again. But then, of course, they did.

      SABINA: ‘Speaking of Switzerland, Marjorie mentioned that the Buddha’s glass display case has all been expertly designed by a Swiss expert – no one’s met him, no one – he’s an utter recluse.’

      BRANT: ‘Oh yes, that’s right, a fellow named… what’s his name honey?’

      RUBY: ‘Klaus Gustav.’

      Ruby hadn’t exactly been listening, but she had been party to so many of these discussions that her brain had absorbed all the interesting and less than interesting details.

      SABINA: ‘That’s right Ruby! Well, according to Marjorie the glass display case will be the shape of a cylinder and is going to rise up through the museum floor at the stroke of midnight!’

      BRANT: ‘How does he do it, do you think?’

      SABINA: ‘Beats me! Must be some kind of magician – no one even knows how you get that glass cylinder open – it’s top secret.’

      BRANT: ‘Well if their glass is as excellent as their schnitzel we are going to be in for a treat!’

      …and they were back to talking about schnitzel again.

      Ruby wished hard for some kind of distraction before her brain froze over – and her wish was granted by a loud thud and a high pitched shriek.

      ‘Whatever in the world was that?’ exclaimed Mrs Redfort.

      ‘Sounded like dessert,’ said Ruby.

      ‘What?’ said her mother.

      ‘I must say having Consuela around is great if you are looking to lose weight but I am afraid our friend Bug has been pounding it on.’

      ‘Bug’s been putting on weight? What do you mean? Why would Bug put on weight?’ asked Mrs Redfort.

      ‘On account of all the low flying food in there,’ replied Ruby. ‘Mrs Digby and Consuela throw ingredients at each other nearly every night. Most of it ends up on the floor and Bug is only too happy to clean up, if you know what I mean.’

      ‘What!’ said Brant who was very much against pets eating their owner’s food.

      There was a crashing sound followed by a yelp.

      ‘Yeah, I’ve pretty much got used to it but you may get complaints from the neighbours any day soon.’

      ‘Oh we don’t want that,’ said Brant, looking over towards where Mr Parker lived. Mr Parker was a very difficult man.

      ‘Get used to what?’ said Sabina

      ‘Kitchen friction,’ replied Ruby. ‘Mrs Digby can’t stand Consuela and Consuela can’t stand Mrs Digby – it’s been like this ever since you guys went away.’

      ‘Really?’ said Sabina

      ‘Oh yeah,’ said Ruby raising her voice a little, to make herself heard over what sounded like the smashing of a cut-glass tulip vase. ‘It’s been terrible – I must say this fish is very good though.’

      Sabina slammed down her napkin, stood up and strode over to the kitchen door.

      ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mom,’ warned Ruby through a mouthful of mackerel. But Sabina was not to be deterred. She opened the door just as Mrs Digby took aim with a pitcher of tomato juice. Consuela ducked and Sabina found herself covered in red gloop.

      ‘Mrs Digby! What has gotten into you!’

      Mrs Digby quickly reached for a large dishcloth, put it down and picked up a towel.

      ‘That’s the second time today that someone has thrown a drink over my Oscar Birdet suit!’ exclaimed Sabina.

      ‘Really? Who was the first?’ inquired Ruby, who was by now standing in the doorway, and chewing on a carrot.

      ‘Some frantic little man at the airport – spills my martini all down my front and now this! Boy, this tomato is never going to come out.’

      ‘Let me clean it up, Mrs R,’ said Mrs Digby, who was looking rather pale in the face.

      ‘I’ll thank you not to touch it Mrs Digby, it’s dry-clean only!’ replied Sabina, these last words coming out rather more sharply and with more volume than she had intended.

      ‘Is never gonna be clean again Mrs Redfort, no way José,’ said Consuela giving Mrs Digby a smug look. Sabina was about to try and calm things down when Mrs Digby got in first.

      ‘Well, I can see whose side you are taking in all this, and me a person you’ve known your whole entire life. I see thirty-six years of service and loyalty count for very little round these parts. Maybe I’ll just go and pack the few sorry possessions I own and get out of here for good! No doubt cousin Emily will take me in.’

      ‘Oh Mrs Digby! Please don’t… ’ pleaded Sabina, but it was no use. Mrs Digby was already making her way downstairs to her housekeepers apartment – there would be no pancakes for breakfast, that was for sure.

      Ruby was relieved when the telephone rang.

      ‘Redfort high drama society. You want drama, we got it.’

      She hoped it would be Clancy Crew, he would certainly lighten the atmosphere – but it was Marjorie Humbert.

      The following words were delivered by Ruby at super high speed to avoid conversation.

       ‘Hello Mrs Humbert yes I’m weller than you could begin to imagine I would love to chat but I know my mother is on the edge of her seat at the prospect of talking to you – bye, bye, bye!’

      Ruby handed the phone to Sabina. ‘Gotta walk, Bug,’ she said, and whistled to the dog.

       Jeepers, could I use some air.

      Ruby and Bug left by the back door and made their way down Cedarwood Drive, turning right on Amster Street. Ruby decided to stop by the tree on Amster Green; a large oak in the middle of a triangle of grass. It stood there surrounded by blossom trees; a wooden bench sat directly under it. The oak tree was old, with branches that twisted towards the ground and swept up again. It was perfect for climbing. Ruby and Clancy liked to sit up this tree and watch the people down below; when the tree was in leaf it provided perfect cover.

      Ruby jumped on to the bench, swung herself onto the lowest branch and from there made her way quickly up to the highest climbable limb. Finding the hole in the bark, she felt around with her hand and pulled out a piece of elaborately folded paper. A perfectly formed origami turtle. Ruby and Clancy had got into the habit of leaving each other tree notes, written in code and usually folded in this complicated way as it meant they would be sure to know if someone had got there first – origami was impossible to re-fold without knowing how, and very few people knew how. Clancy had obviously written the note on his way back home because it said,

      wvitp xrauuziv vuwp eofyboc efivrlw ay va mq vcwpw *

      Ruby smiled, scribbled something on a bubblegum wrapper,

      nsyq ltszsjyk wvy ptrwayoe

      pushed it into the hole in the tree and climbed back down. When she got home, she found her parents were still discussing the tomato gloop incident. Her mother was saying, ‘I hate for Mrs Digby to be unhappy but we can’t lose Consuela,

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