I remember everything. Start explaining.
The Agreed Place
At ten minutes past three, the elephant turned towards the clock for the fourth time.
His friend was late.
They had agreed to meet under the striped awning outside the bakery at three o’clock. The elephant remembered the words exactly, including the bit about the bakery, because his friend had first suggested the bookshop and then changed his mind.
Now the bookshop was across the street, the bakery was behind him, and the elephant was alone beneath the awning.
A delivery bicycle rattled past. He stepped aside for a woman carrying bread and looked again towards the corner.
No friend.
He had brought the ribbon. His friend was bringing the present, and together they were supposed to take it to Grandma Ada’s birthday tea. The elephant had left the blue ribbon in his pocket until the last possible moment, so it would not get creased.
At thirteen minutes past three, he took it out and wound it around one finger.
At fourteen minutes past three, he unwound it again.
At Last
His friend appeared at nineteen minutes past three, hurrying around the corner with a parcel beneath his jacket.
“You’re late,” said the elephant.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
His friend stopped under the awning, breathing hard. Water dripped from the end of his sleeve onto the pavement.
The elephant put his hands on his hips.
“We said three. Here. Outside the bakery.”
“Yes.”
“You said it twice.”
“I did.”
His friend pulled the parcel from under his jacket. The wrapping paper, once pale yellow, had darkened along one side. A corner hung away from the box.
The elephant stared at it.
“It was raining on the next street,” his friend said.
The elephant looked out at the dry pavement in front of them. Beyond the corner, a narrow cloud still hung over the roofs. A drop slid from his friend’s sleeve and landed on the blue ribbon.
The elephant moved the ribbon out of the way.
The Wet Card
His friend had chosen a little painted tin for Grandma Ada. She kept buttons in a jar on her windowsill, and the two of them had thought the tin would be a better home for them.
They had written a card together the day before. The elephant had remembered the envelope. His friend had promised to bring the card and the present.
“I left the card on my table,” his friend said. “I noticed when I was halfway here. I went back for it, and then the rain started.”
He reached inside his jacket and produced the envelope. It was damp, but the card inside had stayed dry.
“You could have come without it,” the elephant said.
“I know. But you spent so long finding the right words.”
The elephant looked at the envelope. He had written three lines, crossed out two, and asked for another card. His friend had drawn a small row of buttons across the bottom while he thought about the third line.
He had not wanted to arrive at the tea flustered. He had planned to tie the ribbon neatly, straighten the card and give Grandma Ada the parcel while everyone was still settling around the table. Instead, he had spent nineteen minutes watching the clock.
His friend peeled back the loose paper. The tin underneath was still dry. On its lid, a painted blue bird stood on a branch with one yellow leaf.
“The paper’s rather soggy,” his friend said.
The elephant touched one corner. It came away between his fingers.
“We could find another sheet,” his friend offered.
The elephant looked at the bakery clock. Grandma Ada’s tea began at half past three, and her house was on the far side of the square. He pictured the little tin sitting at the bottom of a shopping bag while they searched for paper. He also pictured Grandma Ada at her window, waiting for them to come up the path.
He held out the ribbon.
“Let’s take the paper off.”
Still in Time
They removed the wet wrapping and put it in the bakery’s bin. The elephant tied the blue ribbon around the tin, drawing it carefully beneath the bird so its face remained visible. His friend tucked the envelope under the ribbon.
The knot slipped on the smooth lid. The elephant tried again, this time making the loops smaller. One end was longer than the other, but the card stayed in place when his friend lifted the tin.
They crossed the square quickly. The elephant could hear the faint rattle of the empty tin with every step. His friend carried it with both hands, keeping the card from sliding out.
Grandma Ada opened the door before they reached it.
“There you are,” she said. “I was wondering whether to put the kettle on again.”
The elephant glanced at the hall clock. “Three twenty-eight.”
“Just time, then.” Grandma Ada stepped aside and ushered them in.
His friend gave her the tin. She ran a finger over the painted bird, untied the ribbon and opened the card.
“Oh, you’ve drawn my favourite buttons,” she said. “The yellow one from my old coat. I thought I’d lost it.”
“It’s in the jar,” said the elephant. “I saw it last Sunday.”
Grandma Ada smiled and turned to his friend. “And what’s this one with the two holes?”
“The one from your green cardigan,” he said. “I remember looking for it under the sofa.”
“Did you find it?”
“Eventually. After the elephant found a biscuit.”
“A very old biscuit,” the elephant said.
Grandma Ada laughed and set the card beside her plate. His friend moved the tin next to it, and the elephant slipped the blue ribbon into his pocket before it could fall under the table.
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