The Pen

The pen lies on the table between Emily and Rose, although it doesn’t belong to either of them. Emily can’t take her eyes off it. She thinks it’s possibly the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. She waits until Rose is busy doing something else, then she picks it up. Gold letters on the side tell her it’s a present from the aquarium. Emily can’t remember what an aquarium is. The top half of the pen is filled with some kind of liquid and, as Emily twists it in her hand, a tiny goldfish swims up and down.

It doesn’t occur to Emily to try to write with the pen. She’s never had any interest in writing. She loves the little fish, though. He reminds her of one she once had for two days. On the third morning, she woke to find him floating lifelessly at the top of his bowl. That’s the trouble with living things, thinks Emily; you can never rely on them. She watches the plastic fish swim happily along. Just as he’s about to reach his destination she tips the pen, stopping him in his tracks and sending him back the other way. Emily loves to be in control. She puts the pen back on the table and covers it with her book, hoping that Rose will forget it’s there.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose has been watching Emily playing with the pen. Not much gets past Rose. If Emily thinks she will just let her take the pen, she’s in for a shock. It’s not as though she’d ever do any writing with it. Emily never writes. Rose, on the other hand, writes all the time. She deserves a beautiful pen to do it with. Mrs Bowler comes over to speak to Emily and Rose spies her chance. She slips her hand under Emily’s book and wraps her fingers around the pen. In one swift movement she hides it up her sleeve. She carries on reading, as though nothing’s happened.

At lunchtime, Rose is on first sitting, so she leaves first. When she’s gone, Emily lifts up her book. She stares at the table, not quite believing at first that the pen’s not there. Only Rose can have taken it. Emily’s angry, forgetting that the pen is no more hers than it is Rose’s. Rose likes to spoil things for Emily. She’s always done it, for as long as they’ve been friends. Once, at a birthday party, there was a plate of cakes, each one iced in a different colour. Rose was the first to choose. She took the pink one, just because pink was Emily’s favourite colour. Rose hates pink. Her favourite colour is green; a calm, dull colour, just like Rose herself. Emily doesn’t know why they’re friends at all, really.

The pen lies at the bottom of Rose’s bag for several days. Rose would like to take it out and write with it, but she can’t be bothered with the fuss she knows Emily would make. In Emily’s mind, the pen became hers the minute she saw it. She’s been the same her whole life, wanting what doesn’t belong to her and whining when she can’t have it. It gives Rose pleasure to know that even if she can’t use the pen, at least she’s keeping it from Emily. Lately, Rose hasn’t had that much to make her smile.

When Rose rummages in her bag, looking for the packet of sweets she’s sure is in there, Emily catches sight of the pen. She resists her first impulse, which is to make a grab for it. Her next thought is to call over Mrs Bowler and tell her that Rose has stolen something from her. Just in time, she remembers that the pen was never hers. Emily’s close to bursting with the injustice of it all. Rose’s bag is full of pens. Half of them have lost their tops or had their ends chewed. She leaves them lying around all over the place, not even noticing when she loses them. She’s the most careless pen keeper Emily has ever known.

Emily can’t bear to think of the fish pen being lost or broken. She knows she has to act quickly. She points towards the window, drawing Rose’s attention to something outside. Rose has always been a bit of a nosey parker. She gets up, as Emily knows she will, to have a closer look. Emily checks that no-one’s looking, then dips her hand into Rose’s bag, which is on the floor between their chairs. She feels a tingle of excitement as she seizes custody of the pen and hides it in her pocket. Rose comes back and asks her what she’s grinning at. Emily stares at her with innocent eyes, shaking her head.

Rose has known Emily too long. She doesn’t need to look in her bag to know that the pen has gone. She’s angry with herself. It’s not like her to fall for such an obvious trick, to let Emily get the better of her. She pretends to read, but peeps round her book at Emily, looking for bulges in her clothes that weren’t there before. Emily hasn’t even bothered to hide the pen properly. Rose can see the shape of it in the pocket of her dress. She imagines grabbing her, shaking her until the pen drops to the floor. She knows she won’t do this. Her anger bubbles silently as Emily begins to sing softly to herself.

Emily’s problem has always been not knowing when to stop. What’s the point of a victory that no-one acknowledges? She waits until Rose puts down her book, then slowly pulls the pen out of her pocket and examines it carefully. She turns it round and round in her hands, tipping it up and down and giggling at the poor, confused little fish. Rose pretends not to notice, but Emily won’t stop until she’s made her admit how mad she is. She taps Rose’s arm. Rose sighs and turns reluctantly towards her. Emily smiles her sweetest smile, asks Rose if she likes her new pen. Rose glares and Emily smans nervously. This, as usual, makes things worse.

“It’s not yours, is it Emily?” says Rose, peering over the top of her glasses as though she’s the adult and Emily’s the child. She sniffs and goes back to her reading.
“S’not yours either.” Emily says, in a voice that’s louder than she intends. People start to look at them. Rose smirks, the way she does when she’s about to say something she thinks is clever.
“Snot’s what comes out of your nose” she says. Pleased with herself, she looks round to see if anyone’s heard. Someone laughs. Emily doesn’t. Her bottom lip starts to wobble. She grips the pen more tightly, although Rose shows no signs of wanting to take it from her.
“Shut up” Emily snarls. She says it again and again, louder and louder. Mrs Bowler comes over to see what’s going on. Rose tells her that Emily has taken something that doesn’t belong to her. This is true, although not in the way Mrs Bowler understands it, which is exactly what Rose intends.

Mrs Bowler smiles and stretches out her hand, expecting Emily to just give her the pen. Rose is always the one that people believe, the good, clever, sensible one. Emily’s had enough. She throws the pen down on the floor, not caring now if it smashes into a million pieces. She stamps her foot, lets her chin sink down to her chest and squeezes her eyes shut. Mrs Bowler touches her arm gently, tells her she needs to calm down. She leads her away.

When she’s left alone, Emily falls asleep. There’s nothing else to do. When she wakes it’s dark outside, and Janice is sitting watching her, holding a small plastic bag on her knee. She’s pressing her lips together, as though she’s trying not to laugh. She offers the bag to Emily, who snatches it greedily. Inside is a pen. It’s pink and pretty, covered in tiny flowers. Janice shakes her head in mock despair.
“For God’s sake Mother, if you wanted a pen you just had to ask. No need to steal one from your oldest friend.”

Emily is busy looking at her new pen. She stops listening to Janice, who’s going on about her being more trouble than the kids. Emily smiles, thinking how jealous Rose will be when she knows she’s got something new.

In the residents’ lounge, after a struggle with her aching joints, Rose bends to retrieve the fish pen, which has been kicked under a chair. She’ll be able to use it to do her crossword now. Emily won’t bother. She’ll have forgotten already, moved on to something else. Ever since they were children, that’s what she’s done.