Off Your Feet and Out of Favour

How long have I been lying here in this muddy puddle with a film of oil on its surface? I can't be sure. And where is my companion? I can only think of the worst. We had never been far away from each other except for the times we were kicked off before a very late bedtime. When we weren't out and about, we spent many a quiet hour in the darkness of the wardrobe. When the doors were opened and let in natural light, it would be a normal working day. If the light was bright electric, we would brace ourselves for a party, often with bizarre consequences.

Normal days meant walking on pavements, boarding a bus, then a train, followed by a brisk walk along granite paving stones, up smooth concrete stairs and (ugh!) the scratchy sensation of moquette. A few times on the train, I was left dangling and I nearly fell off. I am always afraid of falling off and being abandoned on public transport, but mercifully, it happened somewhere else once, but the story is still too painful to tell. Instead, I shall pluck up the courage to do so by telling you about some of our experiences.

Oh! We'd better have some names, hadn't we? How remiss of me! Just because we're at ground level most of our waking lives doesn't mean to say that our manners are down there, does it? Yes, yes, I'll get on with it. I'm Dexter and my sidekick's Leftie. For a joke, I suggested he call himself 'Sinister' and he sulked for a week. He takes himself too seriously sometimes.

Anyway, it was at a wedding reception, I recall, when I almost drowned. Yes, drowned! No, I wasn't thrown into a river or the sea or anything like that. There was talk of drinking champagne, or rather, there was slurred talk about drinking more champagne than was good for them. I was being dangled at the time, which often happened at parties. Suddenly, I felt someone snatching me up and held aloft. I can't stand heights. To my horror, I felt something cold and wet. Someone was pouring champagne into me. A man said, 'You don't see this every day!' At that moment, an angry hand pushed me away. The liquid waterfalled out of me in a flash and I tumbled to the floor into the champagne-soaked carpet. It took weeks of gentle wiping to get rid of the stickiness and the stale smell of fizzy booze. Mind you, I'm used to one type of stale odour, but nothing like that of a dried-up alcoholic beverage. Leftie thought the entire affair was highly amusing. I told him his turn would come.

One day, we were having a restful time in the wardrobe darkness, speculating on the eternal verities, when an unusual visitor opened the doors and let in natural daylight. I was picked up and a large nose sniffed loudly inside me. Leftie was examined in a similar manner. Very strange. We were then placed side-by-side by the bed. A more pungent smell filled us. A boy's voice said, 'Cor! These fit lovely!' he stood up and tried to walk. We recognized ourselves in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. Suddenly, the bedroom door began to open slowly.

'Oh, I see!' said a woman's voice. 'Keep them on. They look nice on you!'

'Do they?' the boy replied. His legs quivered as he tried to stand straight.

'How would you like to wear those to school tomorrow?'

Leftie was flung off with such force that he crashed against the dressing table by the window. I got off lightly as the boy slid out, leaving me on my side on the dark blue rug beside the bed. We heard the boy stomping downstairs. Meanwhile, clicking her tongue, the woman picked us up and replaced us in the wardrobe. How we laughed as we imagined ourselves at the boy's school!

A few days later, we were laughing on the other side of our faces when the Faiths were introduced to our wardrobe. For a week or so they lay in their tissue wrapping in their box, which smelt expensive.

'Do you like these?' the naked woman said, showing off the Faiths.

The man on the other side of the room grunted.

'Tsk! You're not even looking!' she scolded.

'Bit tarty, aren't they?' the man remarked.

'They are for the office.'

'I thought you got them for in here.'

'If you want, b—'

'Lovely and tarty.'

The man grabbed the woman's waist, pushed her onto the bed. It was so embarrassing, yet we were deeply jealous of the Faiths. From then on, the wardrobe opened, we hoped we would be chosen, but the Faiths were lovingly lifted out instead. We would taunt them with such remarks as 'Only a whore would have you!' and 'Shiny little Jezebel bitches!' and 'Charity shop fodder!' With that last remark, we had tempted Fate.

Even when the honeymoon period with the Faiths was over, we never left the wardrobe, except when the boy wanted us, or when the woman cleaned the interior with furniture polish and disinfectant. It would only be a matter of time before we found ourselves in that unspeakably horrible place with its musty smell and its melancholy, unwanted occupants ranging from DVDs of films that no one ever wants to see again to quaint clothing for retro parties. We recalled the disappearance of the erudite Dr Scholl, the thong sisters, and the satin slingbacks — all victims of a sartorial purge.

***

As soon a she walked in with her mother, we just knew we would be soon bidding farewell to the DVDs of films that no one ever wants to see again to quaint clothing for retro parties. She was about ten years old, blonde and tanned. As soon as she saw us, she picked us up.

'C'n I have these?'

'You don't want those!' a woman's voice sneered.

'Yes, I do!' she whined. 'I want to be a pop star!'

'You wanted to be a nurse, yesterday.'

'Now I want to sing and be famous and I have to have these!'

'They're too big for you.'

'P-lease, I want them!'

'You're too young.'

'It's my birthday in three weeks.'

'No.'

'P-lease! They're only £3.'

When we were new, we cost £45 in a summer sale. My! How we had come down in the world! The girl finally won her mother over and promised not to go out with us outside the house.

We spent most of the time under a bed with only bolls of dust and paper for company. We were taken out only once, only to have the dust blown off and be tossed into a large black bag destined for we knew not where. The bag contained empty food tins, crisp packets, plastic containers that once held washing powder and fabric softener, plus some worn-out smelly scouring sponges and dish cloths. We were aware of our fellow occupants only for a few seconds before the bag was tied at the top. Judging by the relative silence and coldness, we were left outside the house. An hour or so later, we heard the roar of a large motor vehicle. After squeakings and hissings, we felt ourselves being tossed into the vehicle. We fell asleep.

I awoke in this muddy puddle with a film of oil on its surface. Where's my companion? Look! He's over there! A large dark-brown rat is sniffing inside him. Oi! Get off!