Jonathan Coe - Number 11

Selena gaped at her. ‘She said what ?’

‘Yeah. Being gay, for her, apparently, is just like fucking your own brother.’

‘Is that what she said?’

‘I only saw the message for a few seconds, because that’s how it works, but that’s pretty much what she wrote. I asked her where she was and she said: “ With my brother. We’re doing the incest thing tonight. ”’

Incredulous, half laughing and half frowning, Selena was almost lost for words: ‘Wow. That’s a … pretty weird thing to say. And a weird way of saying it, actually.’

‘Well, it was handwritten, and, like I said, it wasn’t on the screen for long. But that’s what it looked like. And then she said, “Right up your street I would have thought.”’

‘Shit,’ said Selena. ‘That’s harsh. Is that it? I mean, is that the sum total of her response?’

‘She did write me a letter, but I couldn’t face reading it. I chucked it away.’

‘Is she … is she, like, a born-again Christian or something?’

‘Not the last time I looked,’ said Alison, and then the bus swung into view. They managed a quick kiss on the cheek — fumbled but tender — before she climbed on board.

*

Danielle and Val followed their guide along the jungle path. They had no way of knowing it, but it was only ten thirty in the morning. The air was already dense and sticky, and the path was heavy going.

‘Can I ask you something, Val?’ said Danielle, over her shoulder.

‘Of course.’

‘It’s about your song the other night — which was really lovely, by the way.’

‘Oh, thank you.’

‘I can’t stop thinking about it, actually. Can’t stop thinking about the words.’

‘Yeah? Well, that’s a good sign, I suppose.’

‘It’s just that line: “I need your breath, Like the moonshine controls the water.” Have I got it right?’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘I was just wondering … what does that mean, then? How can moonshine control the water? Is it just like … something you made up?’

Val hesitated, not sure whether this was a joke or not. She decided it wasn’t. ‘Well no, I was just talking about … you know, the moon, and the tides. The gravitational pull of the moon.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know — how when the tide goes in and out, that’s because of the moon.’

Danielle stopped and turned. Now she was the one suspecting a joke.

‘Are you winding me up?’ she said.

‘Of course not. I’d never do that.’

‘ That’s why the tide goes in and out? Really?’

Val nodded.

Danielle’s beautiful eyes widened. This was a revelation to her, it seemed, and a very important one.

‘That’s incredible. Just fucking incredible. When we get out of here,’ she said, turning back to resume her progress along the path, ‘I want to spend a lot more time with you. You know so much . How did you get to know all these things?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Val, almost tripping on a creeper. ‘It helps if you work in a library, I suppose …’

In a few more minutes, they emerged into a wide clearing, where their chortling hosts, inevitably, were waiting to greet them.

‘Morning, ladies!’

‘We’ve got a nice little treat for you today.’

‘Yes, today we’re going to do not one but two jungle trials!’

‘But there’s a twist, as always.’

‘Yesterday we asked the viewers at home to say who was their favourite person in the camp.’

‘The person with the most votes is going to do the first of today’s trials, which is a pretty easy one, to be honest. It’s called The Fluffy Jungle Path of Pink Marshmallows and Cuddly Toys .’

‘Unfortunately, the person with the smallest number of votes is not going to have quite such a nice time. She’s going to be entering something called The Cave of Evil. ’

‘So, are you ready to hear the results of the vote?’

They both nodded.

Val wasn’t surprised, of course, to hear that Danielle was the most popular person in the camp. But it was a shock to learn that she herself had been voted the least popular. As soon as the news was broken to her, with the hosts’ typical cheeky, ironic grins, her stomach turned over and she felt her legs were about to buckle. The least popular? How on earth had that happened? All the hard-earned confidence acquired over the last few days drained out of her. She barely knew what was happening as Danielle was led away in one direction and then she felt herself being taken by the arm as the other host (which one was it? She never could tell them apart) propelled her in the direction of a steep, intimidating escarpment at the other end of the clearing.

‘Now, Val,’ he was saying, his voice dripping with boyish charm, ‘how are you with the old creepy-crawlies?’

She had no idea what he was saying, what she had just been asked. All she knew, as her eyes slowly came back into focus, was that she was being pointed in the direction of a low, narrow aperture in the rock, which seemed to lead into nothingness. There was just about room for a human being to crawl through it, and a few seconds later she was inside.

*

Alison stood in the kitchen, her hands over her ears. She’d been in this situation countless times before: on her own, in the kitchen, trying to block out the sounds of the TV, which Val always turned up too loud. What could be more mundane, more banal? Except that tonight there was a crucial difference: tonight, the sounds coming from the television, the sounds she was trying to ignore, were her own mother’s screams of distress.

They were awful sounds. Keening, animal howls coming from thousands of miles away: from somewhere in the depths of a cave in a corner of the Australian rain forest, captured as digital information and beamed faithfully into Yardley via the television’s speakers. This latest ordeal would have taken place several hours ago, of course, but that was little consolation to Alison, who was having to live through every moment of it now, in real time. Sometimes when the screams died down she could hear the chortling host intervene with comments like ‘OK Val, here comes the next lot!’ or ‘Ooh, these are nasty little fellas all right, aren’t they?’ But otherwise there was no respite from her mother’s lacerating, inhuman screeching. How long had it been going on for, now? No more than a couple of minutes, surely. But she wasn’t sure that she could stand it any longer.

‘Selena!’ she shouted towards the living room. ‘For fuck’s sake turn it down.’

The TV was muted and a few seconds later Selena came into the kitchen. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘It’s finished. They’ve gone over to the adverts.’ She saw that Alison had been crying, and took a Kleenex out of her pocket. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Let’s clean you up a bit.’

‘Fuck,’ said Alison, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. ‘That was rough.’

‘She didn’t cope too well, did she?’

‘Of course she didn’t fucking cope! That would have been her worst nightmare. She’s claustrophobic for a start.’

The cave into which Val had been made to crawl had been no more than two feet high, and not much wider. Once inside, she had been told to lie on her back, and then the entrance had been sealed with a rock.

‘She also has nyctophobia.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Fear of the dark. And entomophobia.’

‘Fear of … insects?’

Alison nodded. ‘The silly cow. She should have fucking … told them.’ She grabbed another fistful of Kleenex from the box, and blew her nose. ‘Were they all over her? What were they?’

‘I don’t know — cockroaches, mainly. And some spiders.’