Read Billingsly Page 4


  “Just my little joke, old chap. Don’t you see? Teddy for short, so Billingsly for long. Oh, never mind, my jokes are never very funny.”

  “Oh,” said Billingsly, not quite sure about the bear sitting in the mirror and his strange way of speaking.

  “We made funny jokes like that all the time,” said Marmaduke. “Helped to pass the time.”

  “We?” asked Billingsly.

  “Clarissa and me,” Marmaduke said.

  He sounded just like some people Billingsly had once heard in the toy shop when they were buying very expensive toys for some very expensive children.

  “Who’s Clarissa?” Billingsly asked.

  “She was my little girl, but she went away. Far away to a boarding school. She never came back. Do you have a little girl?” asked Marmaduke.

  “Lisbeth is at school, but not far away,” Billingsly replied carefully. He was not sure he should say he had a little girl, when in fact he belonged to Lisbeth. “Where’s Clarissa now?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest idea, actually,” Marmaduke replied, and Billingsly caught more than a hint of sadness in his voice.

  “I wasn’t always here in this mirror, you know. There was a time when I was part of a very nice family, with Clarissa and her parents and that silly dog Bootles. We lived in a fine house just outside London, and there was always music and fun and laughter. Clarissa was growing up, you see, and I’d sometimes hear her parents talking about sending her off to boarding school.”

  Marmaduke said nothing for a few moments; Billingsly could clearly see him shaking his head sadly.

  “One day they told her of their decision to send her off to school. She seemed to like the idea very much, as some of her friends would be going off too. She said I couldn’t go with her because it was against the rules of the school.”

  “Was this in London, did you say?” asked Billingsly.

  “Yes,” replied Marmaduke.

  “But we’re not in London, are we?” cried Billingsly. “You, in there, and me out here.”

  “Oh, I wish you wouldn’t interrupt,” said Marmaduke crossly.

  “Sorry,” from Billingsly.

  “As I was saying,” continued Marmaduke, “One morning she left. She just said ‘Bye Teddy’ and left. Just like that. At first I didn’t realise what going off to school really meant, so I just waited for her to come home. Day after day. No one to talk with. No more funny jokes. Day after day after day.

  “There I was, sitting on the bed where she’d left me. Not a sign of anyone, not even the silly dog Bootles. Then one day some workmen arrived, took away all the furniture and tossed me into a cupboard where I landed against an old mirror.

  “I lay there for days and nights with my heart breaking and my head pressed against that mirror, wishing just to hear her voice calling ‘Marmaduke’. I wished and wished and wished, and one day the mirror suddenly seemed to be filled with movement and warmth and light and laughter. And toys. Big toys and little toys. Dogs and horses and giraffes and bears. All sorts of toys that had given so much pleasure to boys and girls. Toys from everywhere. From India and Russia and China and France, and yes, America. Every kind of cuddly toy you can imagine. Some of them with arms and legs missing, or bent, but all of them cheerful and comfortable. Just watching them made me want to be like them, comfortable and safe.

  “They were waving at me, calling to me to join them, inviting me to be with them there in the mirror, and, before I really knew what had happened, I was with them, inside the mirror, comfortable and safe and wanted.”

  “Where did they all come from?” asked Billingsly, trying desperately to take it all in, this very strange story and the strange bear sitting there so calmly as if being in a mirror was the most natural thing in the world.

  “From everywhere,” replied Marmaduke. “From wherever toys were once loved and cared for and then discarded or ignored and forgotten. From wherever toys are lonely and unhappy just like you. Wouldn’t you like to join us?”

  “Oh, no, no!” exclaimed Billingsly. “I’m not lonely or forgotten or discarded. I was quite happy sitting on the window seat, but the wind blew me down, that’s why I’m here like this. As soon as Lisbeth comes home from school she’ll be here looking for me and I’ll be just fine, thank you.”

  “So very pleased to hear it, old chap,” said Marmaduke. “But remember, if ever things should change and you’d like to join us, we’ll be here. All you need to do is look into a mirror hard enough and long enough and wish.”

  “You say there are lots of you but I can only see you in there,” Billingsly said, wondering if the dirt and grime on the mirror prevented him from seeing the others.

  “The others are not far away,” replied Marmaduke. “I noticed you lying out there and thought I’d take a look. Just in case you needed some help. If you’d like to come in the others can quickly be here to welcome you.”

  “Are you always there, in that mirror?” Billingsly wanted to know, just out of curiosity.

  “Oh no, no,” replied Marmaduke. “Not always here in this mirror, but always somewhere not far away. Whenever toys are no longer loved or wanted and a mirror is handy.”

  Just then Billingsly heard the sound of Mrs. Billings’ car in the driveway, soon followed by Lisbeth’s voice calling to him as she raced up the stairs.

  Marmaduke’s presence in the mirror began to fade and by the time Lisbeth entered the room he had disappeared altogether.

  When Lisbeth saw the empty cushion on the window seat she looked around and soon found Billingsly on the floor.

  “Oh Billingsly!” she cried, picking him up and hugging him lightly. “Whatever happened to you?”

  “The wind blew me off the window seat,” he said, glancing sideways at the mirror and feeling very safe, very loved and very happy.

  Later that week, Mr. Billings took the mirror down to the basement where he and Lisbeth cleaned and polished it until every part of it shone. When they were quite satisfied with its appearance Mr. Billings took it up to Lisbeth’s room and fastened it to the wall opposite her bed. From there it seemed to bring some of the garden into the room, and as Billingsly watched them he wondered if the cleaning and polishing had wiped away all traces of Marmaduke.

  Chapter

  Six

  BILLINGSLY WAS IN HIS usual place on the window seat when Mrs. Billings entered Lisbeth’s room carrying a pail of warm water, a sponge and a large roll of paper. She put Billingsly to sit on Lisbeth’s bed while she set about cleaning the windows as she sang softly to herself. From where he sat Billingsly could see her reflected in the mirror as she washed and polished the glass on the inside and outside. When she was satisfied with what she had done, she collected the pail and cleaning materials and went off downstairs, forgetting to replace Billingsly on the window seat.

  Billingsly could only look into the mirror. He could hear the chirping of the sparrows as they quarrelled in the hedge, and the sharp loud call of crows passing overhead; he could see the window reflected in the mirror and through it a patch of blue sky and a branch of the magnolia tree swaying gently to and fro. The rest of the garden’s busy life would have to wait until Lisbeth came home.

  This promised to be a long, boring day.

  “Hello, out there.”

  From his position Billingsly could only look at the mirror, and though he was quite sure he heard a voice he could see nothing there. However, his right ear had quickly uncurled, as he knew someone had spoken to him.

  “Hello, out there.” There it was again, a voice directed at him.

  “I’m here,” he said. “Is that you, Marmaduke?” Billingsly wished this would be a nice long chat with his new friend Marmaduke.

  “No, silly. I’m not Marmaduke. Can’t you see me?” Slowly a form began to appear in the mirror and in a few minutes Billingsly could clearly see a figure as love
ly as any doll he had ever seen in the toy shop. Her beautiful brown face held two large dark eyes which were full of amusement and just above them, in the very centre of her forehead was a single scarlet dot. As she moved forward Billingsly could see that her shiny black hair was neatly parted in the middle and made into a thick braid which hung halfway down her back. She was dressed in a simple, colourful robe which outlined her neat figure down to her sandaled feet.

  “Who are you?” Billingsly asked.

  “I’m Princess Lila,” she answered.

  “How did you know my name?” Billingsly was totally unprepared for this encounter.

  “Oh, Marmaduke has been talking and talking about you. He’s been telling everyone about the bear lying helplessly in the room who doesn’t believe he’s abandoned. He thinks that perhaps you’d really like to join us, but that you need to be, well, encouraged a bit. He suggested that Marta and I might have a word with you.”

  “But I’m not abandoned,” Billingsly said, crossly. “It was all a silly mistake. I was sitting over there on the window seat and the wind blew me down to the floor.” He felt quite annoyed with having to explain himself over and over again.

  “Oh, well,” said Princess Lila. “Marmaduke thought you might be a bit shy as was the case with most of us. It’s never very easy having to admit that after we’ve been loved and cared for, year after year, we’re suddenly cast aside and forgotten. It’s very difficult to accept that we could be cuddled and fussed over today and ignored tomorrow, but it has happened to each one of us. That’s why we’re here.” Saying that while looking sadly but intently at Billingsly, as if wanting him to agree with what she was saying.

  “Where’s Marmaduke now?” Billingsly asked her, not really caring about the other bear’s whereabouts, but just saying something to change the direction of the conversation. He did not wish to hear anything anymore about being unhappy or abandoned.

  “Oh, he’s not far away. If needed he can be here quite quickly. Shall I call him?” Princess Lila asked.

  “Oh, no, no. I just wondered where he was,” Billingsly said, and quickly added, “Did you say you’re a Princess?”

  “That’s what Jenny, my little girl, always called me. You see, there was once a new group of dolls called the Princess Line, specially made dolls showing costumes from many countries. India, China, Africa, Spain, even American dolls. I was an Indian doll of the Princess Line, so Jenny named me Princess Lila. We were show dolls, you might say.”

  “You say ‘we’ but I can only see one of you.” Billingsly was now becoming more comfortable speaking with a Princess so he wanted to keep the conversation going.

  “There are several of us here,” she said. “There’s Marta, an African doll, and Yuriko. She’s Japanese. And there’s Lola, our Spanish Princess.”

  “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing,” remarked Billingsly. Everything about Lila was truly Princess-like, even though she was the first Princess he’d ever seen.

  “Thank you,” said Princess Lila. “It’s an Indian costume and it’s called a sari. Marta’s costume is even more beautiful. It’s made from a fabric called Kinte cloth which is woven in Ghana from threads of green, yellow, red, black, purple and gold. For a time every little girl wanted a Princess doll and we were fussed over and cuddled and treasured.” She paused and looked around as if expecting someone to join her. Billingsly tried to look as deeply as possible into the mirror but could see no one else there.

  “We were all having such a wonderful time,” Princess Lila continued. “Every little girl wanted to have a Princess doll and they would show us off to one another and have dolls’ tea parties. Some of the little girls even had more than one Princess doll.” She paused, remembering.

  “Then one day everything changed. There was news of another doll, a new doll named Barbie, and suddenly everyone wanted to have a Barbie. Day after day my little girl would beg her parents to get her the new doll because her friends Janet and Sue and Linda now had Barbies.”

  “But you’re so beautiful,” said Billingsly. “Why would anyone want another doll? Was the Barbie doll more beautiful than you?”

  “Oh, she was beautiful, but there was something else. Princess dolls had only one costume and they could not be changed or removed. The Barbie dolls were so made that their costumes could be changed, all of it, underwear and outerwear. Piece by piece. So the little girls had fun buying outfits for their Barbies and dressing them up, while the Princess dolls had to wear the same costume Spring, Summer and Winter, year in and year out. Do you understand? It wasn’t just a matter of beauty.”

  “Yes, I understand,” said Billingsly.

  “Anyway,” Princess Lila continued, “the Barbie doll took more and more of my little girl’s attention until she had no time for me. I was kept in my pretty box on the top of a dresser from where I could see my little girl and her friends playing with their Barbies. Eventually she quite forgot about me. It was all Barbie this and Barbie that. Can you imagine how I felt?”

  Billingsly tried very hard to imagine how she felt but could only nod his head in sympathy.

  “One day my little girl’s mother removed me from the dresser and put me in a glass case among what she called her ‘collectors’ items’. In that case were very special things made of silver and crystal and jade and even gold. I was fitted into a corner close to a small antique mirror in a silver frame and all day long I could see myself in my lovely sari about which no one now cared. There I was, just another collectors’ item.” She paused, took a deep breath and Billingsly was quite expecting her to burst into tears, but she soon composed herself and continued.

  “I can’t remember how long I remained in that glass case, looking at myself in that mirror, with never a sight or sound of my little girl. Day after day after day. Suddenly, one morning there was another face in the mirror, it was Marmaduke and he was soon joined by Marta. For several days they talked to me, inviting me to join them. At first I was confused and hesitant, always hoping that my little girl would remember me and come to find me. Gradually, others joined Marmaduke and Marta, all of them begging me to join them, and one day I thought, why not, and the next thing I knew, I was with them, there in the mirror.”

  “Are you happy now?” asked Billingsly.

  “Oh, yes, very happy,” replied Princess Lila. “Especially after meeting Marta and some other Princess dolls. They, too, had been discarded for other dolls, so we had much to talk about. Would you like to meet some of the others?”

  “Oh, I would,” replied Billingsly. “But not today. Lisbeth will soon be home from school and she doesn’t know about you or the other toys in her mirror.”

  “Who is Lisbeth?” asked Princess Lila.

  “She is, as you would say, my little girl,” he answered.

  “Oh, dear, there are so many others who would like to meet you,” Princess Lila said. “Marmaduke has made us all so very curious about you. Anyway, I’ve enjoyed talking with you. From now on, if you’d like to have a little chat or meet some of the others, just wish for us, or perhaps we’ll just wish for you.” And with a smile and a wave Princess Lila faded away.

  When Lisbeth came home and found Billingsly in her bed she picked him up, hugged him tightly and said “Oh, Billingsly, have you been here all day?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Your Mummy put me here while she cleaned the windows and I suppose she forgot to put me back on the window seat.”

  “Oh, you poor thing. I’m so sorry,” she told him. “You must have been bored, with nothing to see all day.”

  “Not really,” said Billingsly. “I sat here thinking about things and wondering … ”

  “Wondering?” she asked. “About what?”

  “Just wondering if someday you might get another toy, perhaps a beautiful doll, and then forget all about me.”

  “Oh no, no,” cried Lisbeth. “I could never f
orget you. Never. You are my special friend, my best friend.” She hugged him tightly and together they went down to the garden where they sat on the swing and talked about the interesting things she had done at school.

  Chapter

  Seven

  “BILLINGSLY, ARE YOU AWAKE?” Lisbeth was sitting up in bed, one finger in her mouth.

  “I am now,” said Billingsly. “What is it?”

  “I’m getting a new tooth,” she told him. “And the one next to it is quite loose. Can you see it?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t,” he said. “Your finger is in the way.”

  “It’s this one,” she said, bending closer and pointing to a tooth, which moved under pressure from her finger.

  “Yes, I can see it,” he told her.

  “When it comes out will the Tooth Fairy bring me another gift?” she asked.

  “Oh, I suppose so,” he replied. “However, it might be a good idea to leave it under your pillow instead of taking it to school. You might lose it and the Tooth Fairy might not know you need a new one.”

  “I never thought of that,” said Lisbeth. “Anyway, some of the other children are losing theirs so they don’t need to see mine.”

  Lisbeth got out of bed and stood before the mirror to examine her loose tooth and the new one which was pushing itself up in the once empty space. She was pulling and pushing the loose one when it suddenly fell on her tongue.

  “Oh, dear,” she said. “Billingsly, it’s come out!”

  “I’m not surprised,” he told her as she hurried to the bathroom for a square of tissue in which to wrap the tooth. When she returned she again stood before the mirror to examine the space where the tooth had been. Billingsly wondered if she might notice anything moving there. Lisbeth put the tooth under her pillow and, at breakfast, showed her parents the new empty space in her mouth and was happy to hear her father say, “Seems like there’ll be another visit from the Tooth Fairy.”

  After Lisbeth went off to school Billingsly was in his usual place on the window seat, but his thoughts were not on the busy goings-on in the garden. He barely noticed that a parent robin was teaching a young one how to discover worms in the ground beneath a laurel bush; he barely heard the sparrows chirping in the privet hedge; he took little notice of the squirrels as they chased each other among the branches of the magnolia tree or the mockingbird which was giving a solo performance for whomever cared to listen.