THE BONE AT THE BOTTOM OF MY SPINE STICKS out a bit. Sometimes it aches and sometimes it feels as if it’s about to burst right through my skin, and grow into a tail.
In the church, there’s a painting on the wall of Adam and Eve and a grinning devil. The devil has a tail as long as a grass snake, and he’s holding it in his left hand and twirling it.
“Do devils always have tails?” I asked Oliver.
“Always,” he replied.
“What about humans?” I asked.
Oliver harrumphed and shook his head. “Never,” he said. “Not unless they’re devils in disguise.”
“And what if they are?”
“Their devil’s parts begin to grow, until they can no longer hide them.”
“And then?”
“Then,” said Oliver darkly, and he put his right forefinger across his throat. His eyes gleamed. “Why, Arthur? Have you got a tail?”
“Of course not,” I said.
Firstly, I need to find out whether my tailbone is growing, and until then I must be extremely careful that no one at all finds out about it.
And then I need to know why it sometimes aches, as it has done all today.
Last night, I kept thinking dark thoughts. I thought that I don’t care whether or not King Richard dies. Why should I? After all, he doesn’t like the English. He has only come to England twice and never to the March. All Coeur-de-Lion wants from us, my father says, is money and more money. So what does it matter if he does die?
I’m not quite sure yet but I’m beginning to suspect that dark thoughts like these make my tailbone ache. But what if it’s the other way round? What if it’s my devil’s part that causes me to have these dark thoughts?