Soli is furiously tapping her watch. It is almost two. And who knows if Pin will be back but the risk is there: they need their father out.
Mouse nods at his sister, understands, licks his lips. ‘We have to move fast, Dad. It’s so dangerous you being here …’
‘Not yet.’ Motl is yawning, slipping into slumber almost caught. ‘I can’t move another step, Mousie, I just need … rest.’ His whole body is uncurling, shutting down. He releases an enormous groan as if all the dammed-up tension of the past weeks is finally, finally seeping out, as if this room is the only place in the world he can rest.
‘You can’t stay here!’ Soli cries. ‘We have to move you. Move all of us. Now!
‘Yes, yes, in a minute.’ Motl yawns, your old procrastinator back, flattening both hands under one cheek. ‘Things are changing, guys,’ he’s murmuring, ‘help is coming from unexpected places, I have a good feeling …’ His eyes shut slowly, he is lost.
Two minutes to two. What to do? A petal is on his boot, a white one, just like the ones at Salt Cottage. They haven’t seen anything like it for so long and soon it will be crushed to translucency and Mouse peels it off and Motl smiles at his son’s hovering, and falls vastly asleep. Soli shakes him. He doesn’t respond, all flop. His body is devouring recovery, rest is gripping him tight, refusing to give him up, sleep has him too much.
Why ever trouble your heart with flight when you have just arrived.