Maisie May

Maisie May was a happy soul, always out and about with her small yapping terrier, chatting to magpies and anyone would stop and listen. She lived in a large house on the hill. Some said it looked like Bates Motel, others that it was the sort of residence with a view they had always aspired to.

But, for all her sociability, no one had ever seen inside it: even the window cleaner couldn't peer through the heavy net and half drawn curtains.

Maisie May was probably no more than a solitary eccentric of course, too fit and independent to allow anyone over her threshold. She was spic and span, not always making sense, and sometimes looked as though she was about to topple over, yet had not been known to. Despite pushing a four-wheeled shopping trolley, she had never been seen in a shop or hauling it on and off buses, though she must have been eligible for a bus pass. Her usual route was down to the park where she would talk to the ducks, though never feed them because her terrier became uncharacteristically subdued if one approached it. This, from a breed prepared to take on dogs ten times its size was strange as well. But then, people were so used to the odd couple they seldom stopped to wonder, just passed by with a brief, polite ‘Hello’.

So Maisie May would sit on the seat by the lake and gaze into the distance when not chatting to pigeons or smiling at small children who smiled back warily as though able to see something about the old lady adults couldn't.

Her neighbours were aware that she had a carer or companion, though they were seldom seen together. Evidently Maisie was trusted out by herself when reasonably coherent and safely balanced by her shopping trolley.

Given that she was never seen buying anything, some wondered what weighty object was being trundled about with her everywhere. One old man reckoned he heard it make an odd clicking sound, but had put it down to tinnitus. Perhaps, if people had dared to get closer to Maisie, they might have heard a faint whirring as well.

It was one of those muggy days when the humidity was intense enough to warp doors and the lake lay still, not betraying its treacherous depth. Mothers brought their infants to look at the ducks and let them skip across a narrow bridge with a railing too low to prevent a small pixie toppling into the water.

Maisie May sat gazing, intent on some point in the distance, while the ducks huddled together on the damp grass.

There was a splash, and then silence.

That was no duck taking to the water. It was a child, noiselessly splashing about, choking and unable to call out to his mother deep in gossip with two others.

There was a “click”.

Maisie's head turned as though detecting an incoming missile.

Only then did the mother notice her drowning child and begin wailing in futility. She couldn't swim, neither could her companions.

But Maisie May could.

She suddenly stood bolt upright and dived into the lake like a spear.

The young women screamed even louder, barely making sense to the emergency services they were phoning.

Maisie, after disappearing for a while, suddenly surfaced supporting the panicking child so he could breathe. For a moment it looked as though she was unable to take her bearings.

Then her seldom seen carer dashed down the hill to the lake. In her hand was a control unit. As she deftly operated its lever, Maisie turned, keeping the child above the water, and brought him to the bank. His mother snatched him to safety, hardly glancing at the elderly woman who had saved her son's life.

Maisie hadn't fared so well.

Her electronics were waterlogged, and even trying to use the battery in the shopping trolley to reboot her was of no avail. The paramedics who had rushed to the scene could only stand and stare as the elderly patient was quickly disassembled and packed away, component by component into her shopping trolley.

Maisie's carer smiled at their astonishment. ‘Still a problem with damp. We will have to encase the processors in something more waterproof.’ Then she wheeled her creation back up to the house on the hill.

The small terrier tagged along robotically at her heels.