The BFG
The Palace
‘By gumdrops!’ whispered the Big Friendly Giant. ‘Is this really it?’
‘There’s the Palace,’ Sophie whispered back.
Not more than a hundred yards away, through the tall trees in the garden, across the mown lawns and the tidy flower-beds, the massive shape of the Palace itself loomed through the darkness. It was made of whitish stone. The sheer size of it staggered the BFG.
‘But this place is having a hundred bedrooms at least!’ he said.
‘Easily, I should think,’ Sophie whispered.
‘Then I is boggled,’ the BFG said. ‘How is I possibly finding the one where the Queen is sleeping?’
‘Let’s go a bit closer and have a look,’ Sophie whispered.
The BFG glided forward among the trees. Suddenly he stopped dead. The great ear in which Sophie was sitting began to swivel round.
‘Hey!’ Sophie whispered. ‘You’re going to tip me out!’
‘Ssshh!’ the BFG whispered back. ‘I is hearing something!’ He stopped behind a clump of bushes. He waited. The ear was still swinging this way and that. Sophie had to hang on tight to the side of it to save herself from tumbling out. The BFG pointed through a gap in the bushes, and there, not more than fifty yards away, she saw a man padding softly across the lawn. He had a guard-dog with him on a leash.
The BFG stayed as still as a stone. So did Sophie. The man and the dog walked on and disappeared into the darkness.
‘You was telling me they has no soldiers in the back garden,’ the BFG whispered.
‘He wasn’t a soldier,’ Sophie whispered. ‘He was some sort of a watchman. We’ll have to be careful!’
‘I is not too worried,’ the BFG said. ‘These wacksey big ears of mine is picking up even the noise of a man breathing the other side of this garden.’
‘How much longer before it begins to get light?’ Sophie whispered.
‘Very short,’ the BFG said. ‘We must go pell-mell for leather now!’
He glided forward through the vast garden, and once again Sophie noticed how he seemed to melt into the shadows wherever he went. His feet made no sound at all, even when he was walking on gravel.
Suddenly, they were right up close against the back wall of the great Palace. The BFG’s head was level with the upper windows one flight up, and Sophie, sitting in his ear, had the same view. In all the windows on that floor the curtains seemed to be drawn. There were no lights showing anywhere. In the distance they could hear the muted sound of traffic going round Hyde Park Corner.
The BFG stopped and put his other ear, the one Sophie wasn’t sitting in, close to the first window.
‘What are you listening for?’ Sophie whispered back.
‘For breathing,’ the BFG whispered. ‘I is able to tell if it is a man human bean or a lady by the breathing-voice. We has a man in there. Snortling a little bit, too.’
He glided on, flattening his tall, thin, black-cloaked body against the side of the building. He came to the next window. He listened.
‘No,’ he whispered.
He moved on.
‘This room is empty,’ he whispered.
He listened in at several more windows, but at each one he shook his head and moved on.
When he came to the window in the very centre of the Palace, he listened but did not move on. ‘Ho-ho,’ he whispered. ‘We has a lady sleeping in there.’
Sophie felt a little quiver go running down her spine. ‘But who?’ she whispered back.
The BFG put a finger to his lips for silence. He reached up through the open window and parted the curtains ever so slightly.
The orange glow from the night-sky over London crept into the room and cast a glimmer of light on to its walls. It was a large room. A lovely room. A rich carpet. Gilded chairs. A dressing-table. A bed. And on the pillow of the bed lay the head of a sleeping woman.
Sophie suddenly found herself looking at a face she had seen on stamps and coins and in the newspapers all her life.
For a few seconds she was speechless.
‘Is that her?’ the BFG whispered.
‘Yes,’ Sophie whispered back.
The BFG wasted no time. First, and very carefully, he started to raise the lower half of the large window. The BFG was an expert on windows. He had opened thousands of them over the years to blow his dreams into children’s bedrooms. Some windows got stuck. Some were wobbly. Some creaked. He was pleased to find that the Queen’s window slid upward like silk. He pushed up the lower half as far as it would go so as to leave a place on the sill for Sophie to sit.
Next, he closed the crack in the curtains.
Then, with finger and thumb, he lifted Sophie out of his ear and placed her on the window-ledge with her legs dangling just inside the room, but behind the curtains.
‘Now don’t you go tip-toppling backwards,’ the BFG whispered. ‘You must always be holding on tight with both hands to the inside of the window-sill.’
Sophie did as he said.
It was summertime in London and the night was not cold, but don’t forget that Sophie was wearing only her thin nightie. She would have given anything for a dressing-gown, not just to keep her warm but to hide the whiteness of her nightie from watchful eyes in the garden below.
The BFG was taking the glass jar from the pocket of his cloak. He unscrewed the lid. Now, very cautiously, he poured the precious dream into the wide end of his trumpet. He steered the trumpet through the curtains, far into the room, aiming it at the place where he knew the bed to be. He took a deep breath. He puffed out his cheeks and pooff, he blew.
Now he was withdrawing the trumpet, sliding it out very very carefully, like a thermometer.
‘Is you all right sitting there?’ he whispered.
‘Yes,’ Sophie murmured. She was quite terrified, but determined not to show it. She looked down over her shoulder. The ground seemed miles away. It was a nasty drop.
‘How long will the dream take to work?’ Sophie whispered.
‘Some takes an hour,’ the BFG whispered back. ‘Some is quicker. Some is slower still. But it is sure to find her in the end.’
‘I is going off to wait in the garden,’ the BFG whispered. ‘When you is wanting me, just call out my name and I is coming very quick.’
‘Will you hear me?’ Sophie whispered.
‘You is forgetting these,’ the BFG whispered, smiling and pointing to his great ears.
‘Goodbye,’ Sophie whispered.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, the BFG leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek.
Sophie felt like crying.
When she turned to look at him, he was already gone. He had simply melted away into the dark garden.
