Butterfly and Fish are making a tent in the bedroom when Arthur comes in.
Arthur! says Butterfly. Will you like to come in our tent?
No, says Arthur. I'm turning into a cockroach. My back is all stiff.
Butterfly looks up at Arthur. She knows he is lying.
Arthur, says Butterfly. You're not allowed to lie!
I'm not lying, says Arthur.
You are, insists Butterfly. Tell the TROOF.
We don't lie, says Fish.
You do, says Arthur.
No I don't, says Fish, dancing up and down.
Perhaps Fish needs to go to the toilet.
Do you need to go to the toilet? asks Arthur.
No, I went to the toilet just now, says Fish.
No you didn't says Butterfly. He didn't.
Yes I did, says Fish.
I believe you, says Arthur.
Who? asks Butterfly.
Arthur goes back downstairs.
Is everything alright up there? asks Mrs Hume.
Yes says Arthur. They're playing. I think I'll go out.
Wait, says Mrs Hume. I want to ring David.
Ring ring!
Hello, is that David?
Yes, says David. Mother?
Yes, says Mrs Hume. It's me. You are a fine one I must say, for not coming here.
You've got Arthur, says David. He's good with children.
He isn't, says Mrs Hume. But then neither are you.
Well then, says David.
They are good children, says Mrs Hume, but Arthur is obsessed with himself. He thinks he's turning into a cockroach, and I partly blame you. You told him his forehead was hard.
Good lord! says David. That was a pleasantry! Has he been to see Pastor Moon?
What would he do that for? asks Mrs Hume, alarmed.
Nothing, nothing, says David. Don't worry mother. And how are you doing?
Alright, says Mrs Hume. But it is a full time job. What with breakfast and microwave milk and school uniforms and spare clothing in schoolbags and sandwiches fruit and snacks, pony tails and socks and readers and games of hide and seek, pass the parcel and snap, and dinner and bathtime and stories and things that go tick in the night.......
Dear mother, says David What a treasure you are.
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