The BFG

The Queen

Dawn came at last, and the rim of a lemon-coloured sun rose up behind the roof-tops somewhere behind Victoria Station.

A while later, Sophie felt a little of its warmth on her back and was grateful.

In the distance, she heard a church clock striking. She counted the strikes. There were seven.

She found it almost impossible to believe that she, Sophie, a little orphan of no real importance in the world, was at this moment actually sitting high above the ground on the window-sill of the Queen of England’s bedroom, with the Queen herself asleep in there behind the curtain not more than five yards away.

The very idea of it was absurd.

No one had ever done such a thing before.

It was a terrifying thing to be doing.

What would happen if the dream didn’t work?

No one, least of all the Queen, would believe a word of her story.

It seemed possible that nobody had ever woken up to find a small child sitting behind the curtains on his or her window-sill.

The Queen was bound to get a shock.

Who wouldn’t?

With all the patience of a small girl who has something important to wait for, Sophie sat motionless on the window-sill.

How much longer? she wondered.

What time do Queens wake up?

Faint stirrings and distant sounds came to her from deep inside the belly of the Palace.

Then, all at once, beyond the curtains, she heard the voice of the sleeper in the bedroom. It was a slightly blurred sleep-talker’s voice. ‘Oh no!’ it cried out. ‘No! Don’t – Someone stop them! – Don’t let them do it! – I can’t bear it! – Oh please stop them! – It’s horrible! – Oh, it’s ghastly! – No! No! No! …’

She is having the dream, Sophie told herself. It must be really horrid. I feel so sorry for her. But it has to be done.

After that, there were a few moans. Then there was a long silence.

Sophie waited. She looked over her shoulder. She was terrified that she would see the man with the dog down in the garden staring up at her. But the garden was deserted. A pale summer mist hung over it like smoke. It was an enormous garden, very beautiful, with a large funny-shaped lake at the far end. There was an island in the lake and there were ducks swimming on the water.

Inside the room, beyond the curtains, Sophie suddenly heard what was obviously a knock on the door. She heard the doorknob being turned. She heard someone entering the room.

‘Good morning, Your Majesty,’ a woman was saying. It was the voice of an oldish person.

There was a pause and then a slight rattle of china and silver.

‘Will you have your tray on the bed, ma’am, or on the table?’

‘Oh Mary! Something awful has just happened!’ This was a voice Sophie had heard many times on radio and television, especially on Christmas Day. It was a very well-known voice.

‘Whatever is it, ma’am?’

‘I’ve just had the most frightful dream! It was a nightmare! It was awful!’

‘Oh, I am sorry, ma’am. But don’t be distressed. You’re awake now and it will go away. It was only a dream, ma’am.’

‘Do you know what I dreamed, Mary? I dreamed that girls and boys were being snatched out of their beds at boarding-school and were being eaten by the most ghastly giants! The giants were putting their arms in through the dormitory windows and plucking the children out with their fingers! One lot from a girls’ school and another from a boys’ school! It was all so … so vivid, Mary! it was so real!’

There was a silence. Sophie waited. She was quivering with excitement. But why the silence? Why didn’t the other one, the maid, why didn’t she say something?

‘What on earth’s the matter, Mary?’ the famous voice was saying.

There was another silence.

‘Mary! You’ve gone as white as a sheet! Are you feeling ill?’

There was suddenly a crash and a clatter of crockery which could only have meant that the tray the maid was carrying had fallen out of her hands.

‘Mary!’ the famous voice was saying rather sharply. ‘I think you’d better sit down at once! You look as though you’re going to faint! You really mustn’t take it so hard just because I’ve had an awful dream.’

‘That … that … that isn’t the reason, ma’am.’ The maid’s voice was quivering terribly.

‘Then for heaven’s sake what is the reason?’

‘I’m very sorry about the tray, ma’am.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about the tray. But what on earth was it that made you drop it? Why did you go white as a ghost all of a sudden?’

‘You haven’t seen the papers yet, have you, ma’am?’

‘No, what do they say?’

Sophie heard the rustling of a newspaper as it was being handed over.

‘It’s like the very dream you had in the night, ma’am.’

‘Rubbish, Mary. Where is it?’

‘On the front page, ma’am. It’s the big headlines.’

‘Great Scott!’ cried the famous voice. ‘Eighteen girls vanish mysteriously from their beds at Roedean School! Fourteen boys disappear from Eton! Bones are found underneath dormitory windows!’

Then there was a pause punctuated by gasps from the famous voice as the newspaper article was clearly being read and digested.

‘Oh, how ghastly!’ the famous voice cried out. ‘It’s absolutely frightful! Bones under the windows! What can have happened? Oh, those poor children!’

‘But ma’am … don’t you see, ma’am …’

‘See what, Mary?’

‘Those children were taken away almost exactly as you dreamed it, ma’am!’

‘Not by giants, Mary.’

‘No, ma’am. But the bit about the girls and boys disappearing from their dormitories, you dreamed it so clearly and then it actually happened. That’s why I came over all queer, ma’am.’

‘I’m coming over a bit queer myself, Mary.’

‘It gives me the shakes, ma’am, when something like that happens, it really does.’

‘I don’t blame you, Mary.’

‘I shall get you some more breakfast, ma’am, and have this mess cleared up.’

‘No! Don’t go, Mary! Stay here a moment!’

Sophie wished she could see into the room, but she didn’t dare touch the curtains. The famous voice began speaking again. ‘I really did dream about those children, Mary. It was clear as crystal.’

‘I know you did, ma’am.’

‘I don’t know how giants got into it. That was rubbish.’

‘Shall I draw the curtains, ma’am, then we shall all feel better. It’s a lovely day.’

‘Please do.’

With a swish, the great curtains were pulled aside.

The maid screamed.

Sophie froze to the window-ledge.

The Queen, sitting up in her bed with The Times on her lap, glanced up sharply. Now it was her turn to freeze. She didn’t scream as the maid had done. Queens are too self-controlled for that. She simply sat there staring wide-eyed and white-faced at the small girl who was perched on her window-sill in a nightie.

Sophie was petrified.

Curiously enough, the Queen looked petrified, too. One would have expected her to look surprised, as you or I would have done had we discovered a small girl sitting on our window-sill first thing in the morning. But the Queen didn’t look surprised. She looked genuinely frightened.

The maid, a middle-aged woman with a funny cap on the top of her head, was the first to recover. ‘What in the name of heaven do you think you’re doing in here?’ she shouted angrily to Sophie.

Sophie looked beseechingly towards the Queen for help.

The Queen was still staring at Sophie. Gaping at her would be more accurate. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes were round and wide as two saucers, and the whole of that famous rather lovely face was filled with disbelief.

‘Now listen here, young lady, how on earth did you get into this room?’ the maid shouted furiously.

‘I don’t believe it,’ the Queen was murmuring. ‘I simply don’t believe it.’

‘I’ll take her out, ma’am, at once,’ the maid was saying.

‘No, Mary! No, don’t do that!’ The Queen spoke so sharply that the maid was quite taken aback. She turned and stared at the Queen. What on earth had come over her? It looked as though she was in a state of shock.

‘Are you all right, ma’am?’ the maid was saying.

When the Queen spoke again, it was in a strange strangled sort of whisper. ‘Tell me, Mary,’ she said, ‘tell me quite truthfully, is there really a little girl sitting on my window-sill, or am I still dreaming?’

‘She is sitting there all right, ma’am, as clear as daylight, but heaven only knows how she got there! Your Majesty is certainly not dreaming it this time!’

‘But that’s exactly what I did dream!’ the Queen cried out. ‘I dreamed that as well! I dreamed there would be a little girl sitting on my window-sill in her nightie and she would talk to me!’

The maid, with her hands clasped across her starched white bosom, was staring at her mistress with a look of absolute disbelief on her face. The situation was getting beyond her. She was lost. She had not been trained to cope with this kind of madness.

‘Are you real?’ the Queen said to Sophie.

‘Y-y-yes, Your Majesty,’ Sophie murmured.

‘What is your name?’

‘Sophie, Your Majesty.’

‘And how did you get up on to my window-sill? No, don’t answer that! Hang on a moment! I dreamed that part of it, too! I dreamed that a giant put you there!’

‘He did, Your Majesty,’ Sophie said.

The maid gave a howl of anguish and clasped her hands over her face.

‘Control yourself, Mary,’ the Queen said sharply. Then to Sophie she said, ‘You are not serious about the giant, are you?’

‘Oh yes, Your Majesty. He’s out there in the garden now.’

‘Is he indeed,’ the Queen said. The sheer absurdity of it all was helping her to regain her composure. ‘So he’s in the garden, is he?’ she said, smiling a little.

‘He is a good giant, Your Majesty,’ Sophie said. ‘You need not be frightened of him.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it,’ said the Queen, still smiling.

‘He is my best friend, Your Majesty.’

‘How nice,’ the Queen said.

‘He’s a lovely giant, Your Majesty.’

‘I’m quite sure he is,’ the Queen said. ‘But why have you and this giant come to see me?’

‘I think you have dreamed that part of it, too, Your Majesty,’ Sophie said calmly.

That pulled the Queen up short.

It took the smile right off her face.

She certainly had dreamed that part of it. She was remembering now how, at the end of her dream, it had said that a little girl and a big friendly giant would come and show her how to find the nine horrible man-eating giants.

But be careful, the Queen told herself. Keep very calm. Because this is surely not very far from the place where madness begins.

‘You did dream that, didn’t you, Your Majesty?’ Sophie said.

The maid was out of it now. She just stood there goggling.

‘Yes,’ the Queen murmured. ‘Yes, now you come to mention it, I did. But how do you know what I dreamed?’

‘Oh, that’s a long story, Your Majesty,’ Sophie said. ‘Would you like me to call the Big Friendly Giant?’

The Queen looked at the child. The child looked straight back at the Queen, her face open and quite serious. The Queen simply didn’t know what to make of it. Was someone pulling her leg? she wondered.

‘Shall I call him for you?’ Sophie went on. ‘You’ll like him very much.’

The Queen took a deep breath. She was glad no one except her faithful old Mary was here to see what was going on. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You may call your giant. No, wait a moment. Mary, pull yourself together and give me my dressing-gown and slippers.’

The maid did as she was told. The Queen got out of bed and put on a pale pink dressing-gown and slippers.

‘You may call him now,’ the Queen said.

Sophie turned her head towards the garden and called out, ‘BFG! Her Majesty the Queen would like to see you!’

The Queen crossed over to the window and stood beside Sophie.

‘Come down off that ledge,’ she said. ‘You’re going to fall backwards any moment.’

Sophie jumped down into the room and stood beside the Queen at the open window. Mary, the maid, stood behind them. Her hands were now planted firmly on her hips and there was a look on her face which seemed to say, ‘I want no part of this fiasco.’

‘I don’t see any giant,’ the Queen said.

‘Please wait,’ Sophie said.

‘Shall I take her away now, ma’am?’ the maid said.

‘Take her downstairs and give her some breakfast,’ the Queen said.

Just then, there was a rustle in the bushes beside the lake.

Then out he came!

Twenty-four feet tall, wearing his black cloak with the grace of a nobleman, still carrying his long trumpet in one hand, he strode magnificently across the Palace lawn towards the window.

The maid screamed.

The Queen gasped.

Sophie waved.

The BFG took his time. He was very dignified in his approach. When he was close to the window where the three of them were standing, he stopped and made a slow graceful bow. His head, after he had straightened up again, was almost exactly level with the watchers at the window.

‘Your Majester,’ he said. ‘I is your humbug servant.’ He bowed again.

Considering she was meeting a giant for the first time in her life, the Queen remained astonishingly self-composed. ‘We are very pleased to meet you,’ she said.

Down below, a gardener was coming across the lawn with a wheelbarrow. He caught sight of the BFG’s legs over to his left. His gaze travelled slowly upwards along the entire height of the enormous body. He gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow. He swayed. He tottered. Then he keeled over on the grass in a dead faint. Nobody noticed him.

‘Oh, Majester!’ cried the BFG. ‘Oh, Queen! Oh, Monacher! Oh, Golden Sovereign! Oh, Ruler! Oh, Ruler of Straight Lines! Oh, Sultana! I is come here with my little friend Sophie … to give you a …’ The BFG hesitated, searching for the word.

‘To give me what?’ the Queen said.

‘A sistance,’ the BFG said, beaming.

The Queen looked puzzled.

‘He sometimes speaks a bit funny, Your Majesty,’ Sophie said. ‘He never went to school.’

‘Then we must send him to school,’ the Queen said. ‘We have some very good schools in this country.’

‘I has great secrets to tell Your Majester,’ the BFG said.

‘I should be delighted to hear them,’ the Queen said. ‘But not in my dressing-gown.’

‘Shall you wish to get dressed, ma’am?’ the maid said.

‘Have either of you had breakfast?’ the Queen said.

‘Oh, could we?’ Sophie cried. ‘Oh, please! I haven’t eaten a thing since yesterday!’

‘I was about to have mine,’ the Queen said, ‘but Mary dropped it.’

The maid gulped.

‘I imagine we have more food in the Palace,’ the Queen said, speaking to the BFG. ‘Perhaps you and your little friend would care to join me.’

‘Will it be repulsant snozzcumbers, Majester?’ the BFG asked.

‘Will it be what?’ the Queen said.

‘Stinky snozzcumbers,’ the BFG said.

‘What is he talking about?’ the Queen said. ‘It sounds like a rude word to me.’ She turned to the maid and said, ‘Mary, ask them to serve breakfast for three in the … I think it had better be in the Ballroom. That has the highest ceiling.’ To the BFG, she said, ‘I’m afraid you will have to go through the door on your hands and knees. I shall send someone to show you the way.’

The BFG reached up and lifted Sophie out of the window. ‘You and I is leaving Her Majester alone to get dressed,’ he said.

‘No, leave the little girl here with me,’ the Queen said. ‘We’ll have to find something for her to put on. She can’t have breakfast in her nightie.’

The BFG returned Sophie to the bedroom.

‘Can we have sausages, Your Majesty?’ Sophie said. ‘And bacon and fried eggs?’

‘I think that might be managed,’ the Queen answered, smiling.

‘Just you wait till you taste it!’ Sophie said to the BFG. ‘No more snozzcumbers from now on!’