I’m sure he’ll be OK, darling,’ I reassured her after I’d changed out of my gear. ‘Snakes are quite good at looking after themselves, remember?’
Star looked at me pointedly as she replied, ‘They also eat rabbits and hamsters, remember!’
‘Dorothy!’ I cried, charging off towards the pet shed, envisioning my poor little rabbit as a bulge halfway down Brian, the reticulated python.
Star grabbed me by the arm, though. ‘Dorothy is absolutely fine,’ she insisted crossly. ‘Georgina’s waiting at the pet shed in case Brian comes back.’
‘Phew.’
‘And for the vet.’
‘Oh thank god, for a minute there . . .’
‘See how you reacted when you thought Dorothy was in danger,’ she pointed out, a little self-righteously.
I felt a little guilty, then realised what Star had said. ‘What do you mean, waiting for the vet?’
‘Well, unfortunately, Absinthe’s got a bit missing off her,’ she explained, as she continued her trot towards the main building.
My voice was weak with horror as I chased after her. ‘A bit missing off what?’
Star was running along purposefully, pausing to peer into hedges and shrubs as she replied casually, ‘Only her ear. I suppose it’s mostly blood, but can we stop discussing Absinthe?’ she implored. ‘The main thing is to find Brian.’
We dashed a little further along the netball court, checking along the longer grass that ran along the fencing for Brian. Coming out of the chapel, we were stopped by a group of seven elderly nuns who were stepping out holding hands. They were all really small and old but ever so friendly.
‘Hello, girls!’ they called out in their thin little nun voices. ‘Isn’t it a lovely day for a stroll?’
‘Yes, sisters,’ I agreed, joining Star as she fell to the ground to run her hands through a patch of long grass.
‘Enjoying the fresh air, are we?’ one of them enquired sweetly.
‘No, I’ve lost my snake,’ Star explained, desperately.
‘Heavens, Star, not dear little Brian!’ they exclaimed in one voice. They looked as stricken by her loss as she was as they clutched their rosary beads.
‘Oh heavens, I do hope he’s not lost,’ one of them continued. The others all agreed fervently. Some of the elderly nuns are a bit potty.
‘I just told you he is lost,’ Star insisted, trying not to get cross with them. Looking up at their little soft faces creased with years of prayer and concern, it was hard to be cross.
‘In that case we must all go back into the chapel immediately and say a prayer to Saint Anthony for your snake,’ said Sister Joseph firmly.
‘What a good idea, Sister,’ another nun said.
The others all nodded.
‘Yes, Sister Michael, remember he found your glasses this morning before we’d even got down on our knees, didn’t he?’
‘Did he?’ Sister Michael looked a little vacant. ‘Yes, Sister, he always does the trick, does Saint Anthony.’
We left them chatting about the marvels of Saint Anthony as we legged it to the next patch of shrubbery.
‘Poor Absinthe,’ I muttered. ‘You don’t think it could have been Brian that . . .?’ I asked, because she hadn’t made that bit clear.
She was scouring a large shrub outside the main building as she replied, ‘Don’t be absurd, Brian wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not that I’d blame him – if he did eat the ear, that is. Absinthe makes the most hateful faces at him when there’s no one around to supervise.’
Now she was going too far. As much as I’d love to hate Honey’s rabbit, she was a sweet little thing, much nicer than last term’s rabbit, Claudine, who was always biting. Absinthe might be ridiculously mauve, but she didn’t have a mean bone in her body as far as I knew. ‘That’s not true, Star, she’s just a little rabbit and how’s Honey going to feel when she finds out?’
‘Honey?’ She coughed and pretended to fall over. ‘Honey, feel? Ha! You of all people know what she’s like.’
There was nothing I could really say to that so after helping her scour all the shrubbery around the main building we legged it up the narrow stairwell towards our dorm rooms.
‘He’s so incredibly intelligent, Calypso; you’re always saying so yourself.’
It’s true. I do always agree with Star that her snake is intelligent, sensitive and even cuddly, but I only say those things because I love Star so much. Truth is, I’m a bit afraid of Brian and his beady eyes and flicking tongue. I know he’s not poisonous or anything, but if looks could kill, all the pets in the pet shed would be dead.
‘So that’s why I’ve been teaching him this special skill,’ she announced.
‘What sort of skill?’
‘Well, I wanted to be sure that he knows his way around the school so he can come and find me if he’s upset or something.’
‘Brian’s a snake, Star, not a homing pigeon.’
‘He’s always showing Daddy around our manor when he gets lost.’
Given that Star’s father is perpetually stoned and spends most of his time lying unconscious on the floor, I wasn’t madly impressed by this skill, but I kept my doubts to myself.
‘That’s why I leave his cage open. So he’ll come and find me if something’s wrong. Hilda’s taken Brian’s disappearance very badly, by the way.’
‘Hilda?’ I repeated, before I could stop myself. I swear, Star’s rat, Hilda, thinks of nothing but escaping Brian. She’s always running dementedly around in her little rat wheel. I couldn’t accept that she wouldn’t be throwing her little rat paws in the air at Brian’s disappearance.
But as I trotted along the corridor after my friend, I made what sympathetic noises I could. I know it sounds bad, but a part of me was actually pleased that I was the one Star had come to find in her hour of need. It was just like old times.
‘This is the main route I’ve been teaching him, see. I wanted him to know how to find me in the night. He’s nocturnal and pines for me. You know at home he always sleeps with me.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed. Whenever I stay with Star I’m always afraid that I’ll wake up with Brian around my neck.
As we dashed into Star’s room she began to cry hopelessly. ‘I can’t stop thinking about him being lost, frightened, dazed and confused. What if he gets run over?’
I put my arms around her. ‘He’s got a good head on his shoulders,’ I told her, as if Brian was some madly sensible sentient being (with shoulders) which I promise you he’s not. I mean, for a snake he’s bright enough I guess, but. . .
We started to strip search the room. I helped her check in all the cupboards and drawers, tearing all her bedding apart because Star was convinced he liked to cuddle up to her smell.
We’d already missed lunch, which was bad enough because we would have to have a talk from Sister Dumpster about the dangers of anorexia. Worse than that though any minute now the bell was going to go for classes. If we didn’t find Brian in the next few minutes we were going to have to tell Sister Constance that she had a six-foot reticulated python on the loose.
I repeated this realisation to Star, who started to cry even harder. ‘We can’t do that, Calypso. Sister will totally overeact and ban him from the pet shed.’
‘We’ll have to, Star, otherwise, well, he could . . .’ I trailed off, not wanting to accuse Brian of anything especially as Star wasn’t even convinced that he was actually responsible for nibbling Absinthe’s ear.
I was opening Indie’s bed drawer when Star cried out, ‘Brian!’ and her tears of despair turned to tears of joy. But as I went over to cuddle her – Star, that is, not Brian – all was not as well as I’d hoped. Brian was coiled around another rabbit which he was in the process of swallowing.
I screamed in horror, and at that moment Honey came running in, followed by Miss Bibsmore. We grappled with Brian and what turned out to be Tobias, Georgina’s teddy bear and lifelong companion. And before you think to yourself ‘Oh well, he’s just a toy,’ remember, as far as Georgina’s concerned, he’s her soul mate with opinions on a wide variety of subjects. Oh, and let’s also not forget that Georgina’s father pays twenty-five thousand pounds a year in school fees so that Tobias can attend classes.
As we struggled to free Georgina’s beloved bear from the jaws of death, Tobias’s insides burst, and there, concealed in a muddle of fluff was Georgina’s Tiffany flask. Or rather her mother’s Tiffany flask, which I suspected contained a stash of vodka.