Ready Or Not

Jill tries to avoid talking to herself but always allows private laugh-out-loud moments when there’s no one around. This morning, standing alone in her spare bedroom, arms heavily loaded with a huge pile of thick winter jumpers, she is chuckling. The task of emptying a large space in the wardrobe is normally not an act that brings on such merriment, yet Jill has to stop what she’s doing to give herself a chance to calm down.

Still smiling, she finally hoists the woollies onto the top shelf, pushing the old gardening trousers right to the back, way beyond her reach. She knows they will never be needed again as the man from ‘Greener Fingers’ does all her gardening these days.

For a moment, Jill pauses to look out of the window into the back garden. As always, she is delighted with the view and extremely proud of the work she has managed there over the years. The two mature cherry trees next to the fence are looking particularly beautiful at the moment, loaded with bright pink blossoms. She recalls planting them when she first moved in: they appeared to be no more than crooked walking sticks. Jill promises herself a cup of tea on the garden bench after she’s finished her task in the bedroom.

Turning back to the wardrobe she manoeuvres three shoe boxes to one side, lifts out the empty middle shelf and props it against the radiator.

Everything is ready now: the perfect hiding place has been created.

Jill takes a deep breath, slowly squats down and squeezes herself into the empty section. With her chin trapped between her knees and her head bent slightly to the left, she just fits in. She pulls the shoe boxes towards her as if closing the door on the outside world.

“This is perfect. He’ll never find me here.” Jill realises that she has just spoken out loud.

She smiles, crawls back out onto the bedroom carpet, carefully stands up and makes her way downstairs to put the kettle on.

“I’m all prepared for you Daniel…coming ready or not,” she says, as she walks into the kitchen.

Sitting on the bench near the cherry tree, an empty cup resting on her lap, Jill reflects on how this ‘hiding from each other’ all started.

Her first memory of anything like this goes back to her mum and dad playing the game of ‘Hide the Thimble’. Their house was very small, so even something as tiny as a thimble was always found, especially with the encouraging shouts of, ‘You’re getting warmer, you’re getting colder’.

When Daniel, Jill’s grandson, was born, she spent many an hour entertaining him with ‘Peekaboo’, hiding her face behind a cushion and suddenly revealing it with a shocked expression, as if she’d magically reappeared. Daniel could not get enough of the game and was soon leading the proceedings, placing his hands over his own eyes and babbling out sounds that could just have been interpreted as ‘Peekaboo’.

Jill also thought about the times when Daniel was a toddler. She didn’t own a thimble, so that particular game was impossible. Instead, she invented the challenge of ‘Hunt the Hornbill’.

On one of her many travels abroad, Jill’s sister Veronica, had bought her a beautiful pewter figurine of a Malaysian hornbill. Veronica had proudly demonstrated the sound the birds made: “Gok, gok, gok,” she had cried, which wasn’t a bad impression. The bird was normally perched on the windowsill in the front room, and although it was only thumb-size when the sun reflected from its extensive beak, the whole room was blessed with a light show worthy of any Aurora Borealis.

One afternoon, when she was minding Daniel, Jill invented the new game.

“Close your eyes and count to twenty,” she told him, then moved the bird to a less obvious location.

Well before he had finished counting to twenty, Daniel opened his eyes and shouted, “Mr Hornbill, I’m coming ready or not.”

The ornament was only behind the picture frame on the fireplace, so it didn’t take Daniel too long to locate it, although he did need some help. Jill’s “Gok, gok, gok,” calls became louder and more frantic, the closer he got to the hiding place.

As the years flew by, the game remained popular. Daniel never visited his grandma without at least one go at ‘Hunt the Hornbill’. And, of course, over time, the hiding places became more and more creative. The pewter bird has been found in water-filled flower vases, hanging inside the table lamp, underneath the carpet and once had to be rescued from the back of the radiator.

Jill’s sister would never have dreamt that such a simple holiday gift could bring so many years of pleasure.

But, as with everything else, things change. Although the hornbill was always there as an option, Daniel reached the age where a pewter bird had to be replaced by real-life humans. This more sophisticated game required a whole new set of rules.

“So Daniel,” Jill had explained, “one of us closes their eyes, very slowly counts to twenty and shouts out, ‘Coming, ready or not’. Then that person has to go and find the others. Those hiding try to get back ‘home’ without being spotted.”

The chances of Daniel counting slowly were very slim, almost as slim as the possibility of him keeping his eyes closed.

Pete, Daniel’s dad, took the game very seriously: far more than Daniel’s mother, Amanda did. She would often just hide behind the kitchen door or wrap herself in the long curtains hanging in the back room. She was usually the first to be found. Jill, on the other hand, was almost professional. One day, she had concealed herself inside the duvet cover on her bed, wriggled to the bottom and remained perfectly still. After several minutes, everyone had to join in the search for her. On another occasion, she had prepared her space before the family arrived, knowing full well that at some point during this visit, a game of ‘Coming ready or not,’ would take place. The small gap she had created between the wall and the sofa didn’t look big enough to squeeze a fifty-five-year-old woman into, but when the game had started, in she slid. She lay there for so long without moving and hardly breathing, that when Daniel eventually did discover her, she was stuck. Her arms and legs had turned completely numb. Jill had to be dragged out by her feet, in a rather undignified manner.

Jill realised that the ‘stuck behind the sofa incident’ would probably be the last time the family played the game: Daniel was already in the sixth form and would hopefully soon be heading off to university. Of course, that would mean the end of these games.

A few months after he’d moved into the student digs in Leeds, Amanda called Jill to tell her that Daniel was coming home for a long weekend.

“He said he’d pop over to see you on Saturday afternoon. I guess you’ll be in.”

“I’ll definitely be in. Tell him I’m looking forward to seeing him again,” Jill replied.

She immediately decided to bake him a chocolate cake. He might even want to take some of it back to uni with him.

Making a cake wasn’t the only thing that had come to mind. She had another idea, which she knew Daniel would find very funny: play one final game of ‘Coming ready or not’.

Jill is almost set for Daniel’s arrival. The cake is on the rack and coated with far too much dark chocolate, the space in the wardrobe has been prepared, and a note for Daniel is attached to the back door. Jill is sitting in the front room near the window, looking out for her grandson’s blue car.

It is almost two o’clock when Jill sees the azure-coloured bonnet turning into her street. She rushes upstairs, into the back bedroom, closes the door behind her, crouches down onto the carpet and forces herself into the gap she had created earlier. With a fair degree of difficulty, she manages to pile the shoe boxes back in place and reaches out to slide the mirrored wardrobe door closed. Jill is perfectly hidden.

Daniel has parked right outside his grandma’s house and is rather surprised that she’s not standing at the front door waving enthusiastically. He tries the door handle and then walks around to the back.

As soon as he sees the message, he starts to laugh.

‘Daniel, Come In.

Ready or Not.’

This door isn’t locked.

“Grandma,” he shouts but gets no response.

He has a quick look in both the front and back rooms, yet knows that his grandma isn’t going to be in there. It won’t be that easy, he knows her too well.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he calls out in a deep, haunting voice, “Coming, ready or not.”

After conducting a more thorough check downstairs, he returns to the kitchen and spots the cake on the workbench.

“We’ll definitively have some of that later,” he says and runs his finger across the top, hoping that the chocolate is still soft enough to scoop.

Making his way upstairs, he calls out, “Gok, gok, gok. I’m getting closer.”

Jill, in quite some discomfort, stays silent and is pleased to hear that even the younger generation talk to themselves.

“Let’s check in here,” Daniel says and pushes the main bedroom door open. First, he looks under the bed, feels the bottom of the duvet and runs his hands through the dresses and coats hanging in his grandma’s double wardrobe.

“Okay,” he says, “she must be next door.”

He kneels and checks under the smaller bed, the one he had slept in so many times.

“She’s not there,” he announces loudly. “So,” he says, “she must be in here.”

He slides open the mirrored door, expecting to see his grandma sandwiched between the winter coats that have hung there for years.

“Grandma,” he says, looking down at the small pile of shoeboxes, “you’re not behind there, are you? GOK, GOK, GOK.”

He lowers himself onto the carpet, moves the boxes out of the way and breaks into crazy laughter.

“Hello, Grandma. Found you. One, two, three. How are you doing down there? It looks really cosy. Mum never told me that you had downsized.”

“Hello, Daniel, lovely to see you, but please get me out of here quickly. My neck is killing me.”

With a bit of pulling and pushing, Jill is soon on her feet and tightly hugging her grandson. As soon as he lets go, Jill realises someone is standing behind Daniel.

“This is my girlfriend, Sophie,” announces Daniel.

“Oh, my gosh. How embarrassing. Err, hello, Sophie. You must be wondering what on earth is happening.”

“Hi, Mrs Hall, lovely to meet you. And yes, to be honest, I’m a bit puzzled. I certainly didn’t expect to find Daniel’s grandma hiding in a wardrobe.”

All three of them break into loud laughter.

After a few seconds, Jill is able to speak again, “Let’s go downstairs, then I’ll try to explain everything over a cup of tea and a large chunk of chocolate cake.”

She leads the way, wondering exactly what to say.

As she walks into the kitchen, Jill gives her neck a rub, grateful that she didn’t have to stay cooped up for too long.

“Hurt your neck, Grandma?” Daniel asks.

Jill thinks about nodding, but says, “Yes, just a little.”

“This is your lucky day then. Sophie is actually studying physiotherapy.”

“And I don’t charge much, Mrs Hall,” says Sophie. “Just a slice of your lovely chocolate cake and … a short history of Daniel and the games he used to play.”

Jill smiles. She knows she is going to like Sophie, and her neck could definitely do with a professional massage.