13. The White Rabbit

Susan, my older sister, and Amy, my little niece, had only just moved into their new house
when I saw the white rabbit. I had offered to stay over to look after Amy while Susan had a
well-deserved Saturday night out. I did, however, have an ulterior motive. On the Monday
morning I had a Psychology exam and I knew there would be no distractions at Susan’s to
keep me from studying after Amy had gone to bed.
After a lively session on the trampoline, Amy and I snuggled up on the sofa with Alice in
Wonderlandin the DVD player. Disney films captivate me, and when Amy eventually dropped
off, I finished watching alone before carrying her up to bed. Returning to the living room with
my notes, a highlighter and a glass of chilled Chardonnay, I was determined to put the rest
of the evening to good use. I sipped my wine and applied myself to Freud’s dream theory.
But the exertions of the day caused my eyelids to droop, and the next thing I knew, I was
wandering in some kind of sinister garden with bizarre creatures, half-human, half-animal,
grinning, babbling and hopping all around me.
It must have been well after midnight when I woke, stiff-necked and dry-mouthed. My binder
lay open on my lap; I hadn’t highlighted a single sentence. The empty wine glass stood on
the coffee table. I shuffled into the kitchen to slake my thirst before going upstairs, and it was
then, as I was running the tap and looking out through the kitchen window into the moonlit
garden, that I saw the white rabbit.
I did all those things you’re supposed to do when you can’t believe your eyes: I rubbed them
and blinked hard. But there it was: a large white rabbit, sitting up on its hind legs and looking
straight at me with pink eyes. It twitched its whiskers, cocked its head knowingly, then turned
and hopped off slowly and deliberately. I felt an irrational urge to follow it, but since I was
wearing neither my shoes nor my glasses, I resisted and simply watched it vanish into the
darkness of the hedge.
Next morning at breakfast, I felt drained. My head was heavy and my calves were aching.
The strange creatures had plagued me all night, chattering nonsensically and insisting I have
tea with them, when all I wanted to do was escape from the garden so I wouldn’t be late for

my exam. I frowned at my toast, trying to clear my mind. Had I really seen the white rabbit or
had I dreamed that as well? What was wrong with me? A spot of trampolining, one glass of
wine – or was it two – and I was a wreck.
Susan and Amy, on the other hand, were in excellent spirits. Amy told Susan, in that detailed
way five-year-olds do, about the DVD we had watched.
“Alice in Wonderland?” said Susan. “That reminds me – I’ve met the lady next door and guess
what, Amy? She’s got a rabbit – a big white one! She says it’s the cleverest rabbit in the world.
It can do all sorts of things. It can even get out of its cage on its own, but it never gets lost.
She says you can go and visit it any time you like.”
I felt a rush of relief. Amy clapped her hands in delight. Susan glanced at us in turn.
“Why don’t the two of you go over and see the rabbit this morning?” she suggested. “I’m sure
Mrs Carroll wouldn’t mind.”
I managed a weak smile. “As long as it’s not wearing a waistcoat and carrying a pocketwatch.”
Amy obliged me by laughing at the joke louder than was absolutely necessary.
“Oh, isn’t Auntie Alice funny!” said Susan. “By the way, Alice, how was the Chardonnay?”