Read Brilliant for Free Online

escape. But it was more important than that. The click of the closing door was like a warning sign, or a sound in a film that told you something bad or scary might be coming.
    But nothing sudden happened.
    The children under the table didn’t move.
    â€œPoor Ben,” said their mam.
    â€œYou’d want to mind that poor lad,” said their granny.
    Gloria saw her granny’s feet move. She was standing up.
    â€œWhat d’you mean?” said their dad.
    â€œDepression,” said Gloria’s granny.
    Gloria saw her granny’s feet turn. Her slippers were two dogs’ heads, and the ears bounced on the floor. They were like a pair of mad twins.
    Una’s mother looked at Pat.
    â€œThe black dog of depression has climbed onto that poor fella’s back,” she said.
    Pat and Una both nodded. They knew what she meant. Ben might be suffering from depression. They accepted it, even though it was horrible to hear and they both wanted to cry.
    â€œI’ll tell you,” said Una’s mother. “The whole city seems depressed. So many people you see out there look so unhappy.”
    They nodded again. She was saying exactly what Pat and Una thought.
    â€œBut anyway,” said Una’s mother. “That’s the way of it. I’ve lived through hard times before, but I’ve never known anything like this. I’ve seen the black dog’s bad work before, but I’ve never seen him take over the whole city. I’d be worried about that lad, so I would.”
    Raymond heard his granny put something on the table—the teapot.
    â€œThere’s more tea for you,” she said.
    â€œAre you not having a cup yourself?” said their mam.
    â€œNo, no,” said their granny. “I’m off to bed. The politicians can tell their lies, but your bed will never let you down.”
    Gloria watched her granny’s dog slippers as they started to turn again. Gloria saw one heel step on a dog’s ear. She saw her granny trip. She heard her granny hit the table.
    â€œOh God!”
    â€œAre you all right?” said their mam.
    Gloria saw their mam push back her chair and start to stand up. They were going to be caught. Their mam was going to see them.
    â€œI’m grand,” said their granny. “But I whacked my funny bone.”
    They heard her groan.
    â€œAnd it isn’t funny at all,” she said.
    â€œAre you sure you’re all right?”
    â€œI’m grand, I’m grand,” said Raymond’s granny. “But it makes me think. The funny bone. That’s what’s happening. The city’s funny bone is gone. There’s no one laughing anymore.”
    â€œYou might be right,” said Raymond and Gloria’s dad.
    â€œI think I am,” said their granny. “There’s a thought. The black dog of depression stole Dublin’s funny bone.”
    Raymond watched his granny’s slippers continue the journey to the kitchen door.
    â€œIt’s desperate,” she said. “What’s happening to young Ben and all the others. And no one seems to be willing or able to do anything about it.”
    She opened the kitchen door.
    â€œAnyway,” she said. “I’m off to my little damp granny flat. Night-night.”
    She walked out and didn’t look back. So she didn’t see Raymond and Gloria under the table. They heard her walk down the hall. They heard the front door opening, and closing.
    Raymond watched his parents’ legs and feet. He could tell: They were getting ready to stand up. There was a tiny hole in his dad’s sock. He was tempted to lean over and tickle his dad’s toe. He really wanted to. But he didn’t—he resisted. Something told him his parents wouldn’t have liked finding him and Gloria under the table. Not after what they’d been talking—mumbling—about. It wasn’t a game, not tonight.
    Gloria was looking at her parents’