WAITING FOR SOPHIE.

The suitcase opens. Bright light floods in to replace the darkness and Sophie’s face comes into view.

“Hello, Teddy” she says, a big smile on her freckled little face. “Come here – out of that big case. You don’t like it in there, do you?”

From the case and into her arms: a kiss on the nose, and a big hug.

“You won’t have to go in there again,” she promised. “We’re back now. No more travelling. Not ‘til next year, and next year you can sit with me on the aeroplane.”

Sophie kneels on her bed, bouncing gently. From her lap, the door is visible, rising and falling with Sophie’s movement. Through the door another light is shining. Someone is coming upstairs, head first appearing, as if through the floor itself, turning towards Sophie’s room to see what she is doing.

“Are you getting ready for bed now, Sophie?” Gradually, more and more of the body rises through the floor and becomes a whole person at last.

“Yes, Mum.”

From Sophie’s lap to the duvet cover. Only the ceiling is visible now, and the patterned frieze of one of the walls: butterflies, ladybirds and fairies; and a bright light within a patterned lampshade.

Sophie stops bouncing and gets off the bed. Sounds of her movements as she undresses. She leans over to reach her nightdress under the pillow and pulls it over her head. Then she shuffles out of the bedroom towards the bathroom. More sounds: toilet flushing, taps running, brushing of teeth and finally the banging shut of the bathroom door as she returns to the bedroom.

“Shhhh, Sophie. You mustn’t bang the door so hard. I’m always telling you that, aren’t I?”

A giggle. “OK, Mum. I keep forgetting.”

“Well, remember next time.”

“Uh huh.”

“Get into bed, then.”

From the duvet to Sophie’s left hand as she climbs onto the bed and wriggles under the covers.

“Come on, Teddy. It’s time for our story.”

“What story do you want, tonight?”

“ 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar'. ”

Sophie’s mum, Rita, laughs. “I thought you would.” She sits down on the bed, picking up a book and holding it where Sophie can see it too, and she begins to read.

When the story is finished for the second time, Sophie is made to snuggle down to go to sleep. Rita gives her a kiss and straightens the duvet.

From underneath the duvet, onto the pillow.

“Mum”

“Yes?”

“Will Daddy come up?”

“I’ll ask him to come up when I get downstairs.”

“OK. Night-night, Mummy.”

“Night-night, Darling. Sweet dreams.”

“Don’t forget to send Daddy up.”

“Shhhh.”

Rita leaves the room, turning out the light. There is a night light casting a soft blue light onto the ceiling. Voices come up from the room below.

“She wants you to go up and say goodnight now, Rick.”

“Ok. I’ll go in a minute.”

“Don’t be long. She should be asleep by now.”

“Yes. I’m just finishing this …”

Sophie is fidgeting and whispering to herself, repeating what is being said downstairs, as though practicing grown-up talk, and then adding, “Hurry up, Daddy.”

The stairs creak under Rick’s weight as he comes up. Sophie whispers, “Good. He’s coming at last.” Rick comes quietly into the darkened room. Sophie lies quiet and still, eyes closed. Rick reaches out to smoothe her hair, and Sophie springs up to her knees like a coiled spring suddenly released.

From the pillow down to the floor. Unnoticed.

“Daddy,” she says.

“Shhh,” says Rick. “Mummy’ll hear you.” Then he adds, “You’re supposed to be fast asleep.”

“When will we be going on holiday again, Daddy?” says Sophie, dismissing Rick’s comments as irrelevant to this more important matter.

“Next year, Sweetheart. But, remember, there’s Christmas in between, and we’ll probably go away for a long weekend sometime.”

“Which do you like best, Daddy, Christmas or holidays?”

“Hmmmm. I think I like Christmas best. But I like holidays too.”

“Me too,” she says.

He bends over and kisses her. Her little arms reach up and go round his neck, and she looks deep into his eyes for a very long moment. He smiles down at her. Then she hugs him.

“Night-night, Daddy”

“Night-night – sleep tight – mind the fleas don’t bite.”

“Eeeew, fleas! I haven’t got fleas,” she giggles.

“Settle down, then, and go to sleep.”

He leaves the room, turning at the door to check she has settled back down. As he turns back to go down, Sophie sits up.

“Daddy! Where’s Teddy?”

Rick returns with a sigh. He looks around, “There. On the floor.” He leans forward. Up from the floor and onto Sophie’s pillow, underneath the weight of her tiny hand, and touching her cheek. Another goodnight kiss and he goes.

In the soft glow of the nightlight, Sophie lies with her eyes open and holds another whispered conversation with herself: "Remember, there’s Christmas in between … Yes, I like Christmas best. When will Christmas come, Teddy?" - until, suddenly, she is fast asleep.

The room falls into stillness. Sophie breathes softly, and occasionally makes a sound as if she is saying something in her dreams. Sometimes the sound of a passing car can be heard, and the reflection of its lights travels across the ceiling. At last Rita, comes upstairs, into the bathroom and then into her bedroom, followed shortly afterwards by Rick, who follows a similar bedtime routine.

Eventually, the whole house is silent. Outside, fewer cars now pass. Occasionally the sound of a barking fox can be heard, or an owl screeching, but no-one inside hears them. Nor, later, do they notice the early morning light which starts the Dawn Chorus. Only when a radio-alarm clock crackles into life and James Naughtie’s voice emanates from Rick and Rita’s bedroom are they brought back to wakefulness. Rick is first into the shower, while Rita goes downstairs to begin her morning routine, preparing breakfast and getting Sophie ready for school. After Rick comes out of the bathroom, and dresses himself in the bedroom, he goes downstairs, and Rita comes up to have her shower. She emerges in her dressing gown, a towel around her wet hair, and looks in at Sophie. Although she is now in a light sleep, she is not yet awake. Rita goes into her bedroom and dries her hair. Then she dresses and comes back to Sophie’s room, armed with clean clothes for Sophie to wear. She puts them on the foot of the bed.

“Sophie” she calls gently. “Sophie. It’s time to wake up, Sweetheart.”

Sophie stirs, and slowly wakens. She opens her eyes. “Hello, Mummy,” she smiles. Then she realises something. “Awwww!” she says.

“What’s wrong?”

“I thought we were still on holiday.”

“I’m afraid not. We’re back home now. And you have to go back to school today.”

Sophie’s nose wrinkles. Then she brightens. “I’m going to tell Mrs. Carson about my holiday,” she says.

“Oh, she’ll like that, I’m sure,” says Rita.

“And I can tell Abigail and Sandy, too.”

“Come on, then. You’ll have to get up if you’re going to tell everyone all that.”

Sophie gets up and goes into the bathroom. She comes out completely wrapped in a bath towel, wet and shivering noisily, although it isn’t really cold. Rita dries her hair and brushes it, then puts it into a ponytail. By that time, Sophie has dried completely, and Rita helps her get dressed in her school uniform. Then they go to breakfast.

“Where’s Teddy?” Sophie remembers, and turns back to the bed.

From the bed to the dining room, next to Sophie as she eats her Weetabix.

Rita drinks a cup of tea and has a slice of toast and marmalade. Sophie chatters non-stop. The radio chatters in the background. No-one is really paying attention to either. Rick leaves to catch his train and Sophie and Rita wave him goodbye. Breakfast over, they get ready to go out. Sophie picks up her lunch bag with a picture of the teddybear’s picnic on it.

“Get a move on, Miss. Into the car,” says Rita.

From the dining room into the back of the car.

Sophie is strapped in and is still cheerfully talking about what she will do at school. The journey lasts about 15 minutes, the traffic always being heavy at this time. Eventually the car pulls up, as close to the school as the other traffic will allow. Sophie is unstrapped and gets out of the car.

“Wait here for me until school is over, Teddy,” she says.

Sophie takes Rita’s hand and they walk towards the school, still happily babbling, the hot summer sun shining down on her golden hair and off her bright white blouse. She acknowledges friends arriving at the same time, and at the gate, kisses Rita and skips off into the playground to find Abigail and Sandy. Rita waits for a moment, and waves as Sophie turns round one last time, then returns to the car.

Through the traffic and back to the house.

Rita leaves the car on the drive and goes indoors. The sun rises higher in the sky. Inside the car the temperature rises and the surfaces get too hot to touch. People walk by and traffic passes along the road. Some passers by look into the car or across the garden into the front room of Sophie’s house. The postman walks up to Sophie’s front door and pushes a bundle of letters through the letterbox. Through the frosted glass, Rita can be seen picking them up and looking at them. After a while, Rita emerges from the house and comes to the car. She gets inside, and draws a sharp breath as she touches a burning hot steering wheel. She turns on the air-conditioning and directs the air vents at the steering wheel.

She reverses the car onto the road and then drives to the supermarket. She finds a shaded parking place and leaves the car to get her shopping. Eventually she returns with a full shopping trolley whose contents are transferred into the boot of the car. All except a new dress bought for Sophie, which Rita lays on the back seat.

Nothing can be seen now except the pattern on the dress and a price tag.

The car moves off. It stops again, and Rita can be heard unloading her shopping. Then the car door opens, and the dress is picked up. Rita’s face comes into view. She smiles as the dress is taken away, “Sorry, Teddy. Couldn’t you see?” With that, she closes the door and goes inside the house.

The sun passes its zenith, and the car heats up inside again. But shadows begin to lengthen and move across the car, preventing some of the surfaces from heating up too much. A white car with police markings pulls up outside the house, and two people get out, a man and a woman, both in uniform. They go to the front door. The man knocks, but the woman stands in front of him. He knocks again, and the door opens. Rita looks at both of them apprehensively. Words are spoken. A reply. The policewoman says something more.

“No!” Rita exclaims. “No! It’s not true!” Her legs appear to fold under her, but the policewoman catches and supports her. They go inside. After some time, all three reappear and get into the police car. Rita is crying. The policewoman looks pale and strained. The policeman’s eyes are red, and he rubs them before driving off. The car starts up, turns around and heads back the way it came: towards Sophie’s school.

The sun begins to cool, and the car is now completely in shadow. People pass by as before. Traffic continues to travel up and down the road, unconcerned. The sun sets. The late afternoon light turns into dusk. Lights begin to come on in the windows of the opposite houses, and the street lights begin to glow. Sophie’s house remains unlit in the darkness. The sound of the telephone ringing comes from inside the house, but eventually, unanswered, it stops. It is late at night when Rick’s car comes up onto the drive and both he and Rita get out. Both have been crying. They go into the house.

Sophie is not there.

Next day. Rick does not go to work as usual. Rita does not take Sophie to school as always. Instead, Rick and Rita come over to the car and get in. They look as if they have not slept all night. Rick starts the engine and they drive to the school. At the school the road is closed, but the police wave the car through. It parks opposite where the main entrance used to be – where Rita had stood to watch Sophie as she sought out her friends the day before. Now the entrance is not there. The wall that had been there lies demolished. A double-decker bus lies on its side, half inside the playground, half outside. A tanker lorry, jack-knifed, is being hauled away by a break-down truck. Tearful people stand together staring uncomprehendingly at the sight.

The little bodies that had been crushed by the wall when the bus came crashing down have all been taken away, but some possessions are still lying there: satchels, books, a lunch bag with a picture of the teddybear’s picnic printed on it.

Over to the side, at a discrete distance, a trestle table has been set up. It is already heavily laden with flowers and wreaths, photographs of little children whose lights no longer shine, and some of their favourite possessions. Rita and Rick get out of the car. Rita opens the back door and reaches inside.

“No point in waiting there anymore, Teddy,” she says.

From the car into Rita’s hands and then to the trestle table, among the flowers and other toys, along with a message of love to Sophie.