Tooth, the Whole Tooth and Nothing but the Tooth

7: Bye... Again!

"We'd better get an early night, then, hadn't we?" Beryl suggested.

I decided not mention the fact that it was almost four thirty in the morning.

"Will the shed do?" I asked. I had replaced my lawn mower and spade since the last time Beryl had stayed, and had never found the other bits and pieces that had been lying around in my shed, but their fate seemed trivial compared to what was happening.

"The shed will be fine," Beryl accepted.

I led her to it, and, once she was comfortable (if a little cramped), I went to my own bed, convinced that I wouldn't get a wink of sleep.

A blast of music from the radio alarm woke me at six thirty. I fumbled for the snooze button, and only succeeded in knocking the alarm off the bedside table. At least it switched off. I yawned, stretched, and then remembered my visitor. I sat up sharply enough to make me dizzy.

The bathroom was only a short shuffle away, but the splash of water on my face did nothing to make my head any clearer. I looked in the bathroom mirror. I looked older. I definitely looked older. Alright, so maybe I didn't, but I felt it anyway. I found the bedroom again more by accident than by meaning to, and more or less fell into my clothes.

When I reached the kitchen, Beryl was already up and had two mugs of steaming tea waiting. I slumped into a chair and scratched my head.

"You're not really a morning person, are you?" Beryl pointed out.

I felt like saying that I was a morning person, just not a two in the morning person, but I didn't. I merely shook my head and sipped my tea.

"Are you going to contact your friends? " I asked her.

"Already done," she said with a broad smile. "My ship is on its way."

"How do they know where to come?" I wanted to know. Things were a bit different since her friends had left. I wouldn't want a space ship full of dinosaurs landing in the wrong garden. People might take it the wrong way.

"The ship will be on autopilot," Beryl told me. "It shouldn't be long."

"Yes, but how does it know where I live?" I insisted. Old Mrs. Matthews at number twenty six would die if a UFO landed in her begonias.

"Don't worry. There's this amazing invention called a street map. It will just use the A to Z."

Why didn't I think of that? How an unmanned space ship might get hold of a street map was beyond me, but stranger things had happened, and still were happening come to think of it.

"Drink your tea," Beryl suggested. I wasn't in the mood to argue.

By mutual agreement, we spent the time until the ship arrived in front of the television. I rang in sick to my office and said I'd better take the rest of the week off. I felt like taking the rest of my life off. I visited the supermarket for a fresh supply of tea bags and Hob-Nob biscuits (and ignored the strange looks I got at the check out - you would have thought no-one had bought three dozen packets of biscuits and four boxes of tea bags before), but other than that and sleeping, we watched endless cartoons. I didn't mind that much really. At least it sort of took my mind off certain things.

Thursday morning came around before I realised, taking me quite by surprise, so much so that I didn't wake up until about eleven (according to my watch - I hadn't managed to get my alarm clock going again after the other morning). I reached the kitchen to find Beryl once more prepared with two mugs of hot tea, and a big smile on her face.

"It's here," she said, hardly able to contain her excitement.

I stood there, blank faced, suddenly having no idea what she was on about. "Sorry?" I said.

"My ship, it's here," she repeated. "Come and have a look."

Her trunk gripped my hand and yanked me to the back door. I stepped out into the early morning brightness, and stood blinking for a moment until my eyes got used to the sunlight. I looked around. There was nothing there.

I looked at Beryl.

"There. There," she urged, gesturing wildly with her trunk. I still couldn't see anything other than a tree, and was more worried about my neigh...

A tree.

I didn't have a tree in my back garden.

"That's your space ship?" I asked, confused.

"That's my space ship," Beryl beamed. "I said you didn't have anything to worry about, didn't I?"

She sure did, I thought.

"You sure did," I said, not mentioning that I thought she was a little on the large size to fit inside a tree.

"I just need to get a few things together, and then I can get off," she said, almost bouncing about.

"Okay, okay. Come inside." She was getting a bit too excited for me. Besides, cracks were appearing in my path.

Once inside, I asked her what she wanted to take with her. I wasn't surprised by the answer: "Some Hob-Nobs and some tea, please."

I still had a few packets of biscuits left, and one box of tea bags. Half a dozen cups of tea an hour can put you off a bit, so I didn't mind giving them to Beryl. I saw her face light up when I brought out the biscuits, so I didn't have the heart to say no, although I wouldn't have minded keeping at least one packet for myself.

Soon enough, Beryl announced that it was time for her to go. She gave me a big hug (I was sure I heard a rib crack, and ended up with a mouth full of Mastodon hair) and picked up her supplies.

"This is it then," she said, sadly.

"I suppose so," I answered.

"Thanks for all your help," she said, stopping at the base of the tree (a willow, I think).

"Anytime," I told her, realising too late that I'd more or less said that the last time she left, and she had come back again.

"Bye then," she said.

"Bye."