1964 by James Farner

Author:James Farner [Farner, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sixties fiction, 20th century Britain, Sibling rivalry, growing up, Country Life, Made in Yorkshire
Publisher: James Farner Publishing
Published: 2014-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Peter didn’t reappear until later that evening. Dad had worked him hard, even handing over most of the farm’s responsibilities to him. His brother looked exhausted and tripped through the door, covered in filth. Mother pinched his ear and dragged him back to his feet again for leaving mud on her clean kitchen floor. He almost felt sorry for him. Then he remembered when he reached Peter’s age he would get the same treatment. The thought made him shudder.

Richard knew he needed to find the right time to talk to him. Peter was notorious for his mood swings, especially after hard days like this. He waited the whole night for Peter to relax and shake off his latest mood.

“Pete.” Richard approached Peter whilst he lay on top of his bed.

Peter grunted in return.

“Can you help me with something?”

“What now?” said Peter.

He bent forward to speak into his ear, in case Mum had her hearing bent towards the stairs. “I need to go out of the house later on tonight.”

Peter shot him a look that told him he was crazy, or stupid.

“I need you to help me out the front door.”

“No.”

“Please.” Richard got down on his knees next to Peter’s bed and wrung his hands like a beggar. “I won’t ask you to do anything ever again, I swear.”

“No.”

“What do you want? I’ll do anything. I really mean it.”

“I’m not helping you get out. Every time I get involved with you, I end up getting smacked for it. I’m not doing it again. They’re already threatening to kick me out the house when I turn sixteen.”

“They won’t do it,” said Richard.

“I’m not taking the chance, so forget it.”

Peter turned over and faced the wall in a huff. Richard knew he could change his mind, though. He needed something Peter couldn’t turn down.

“I’ll give you my football.” Richard picked up the piece of beaten leather.

“Not that old thing. It’s not even blown up and we never play football, anyway. There’s no one our age around here to play with.”

“What do you want, then?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything. You don’t have anything. Do it yourself and leave me alone.”

Richard turned away. He knew he would have to do this himself. After all, his brother had taken most of Richard’s punishments over the last few years. He flipped onto his bed and stared at the planes hanging from the ceiling. His Lancaster Bomber and American B-52 he’d painted flew frozen in mid-air. He had an idea. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do this alone, after all.

Standing on the bed, he retrieved the plane. This was his last shot.

“What about if I give you this?” said Richard, handing him the B52 plane.

His brother turned over and examined the B52. “I don’t want it. I don’t want any of your other planes, either. Dad will get me any of them I want. Go and do whatever you’re doing yourself. I’m not having anything to do with it.”

“You really are useless,” Richard shot at him. “How about this, then? If you don’t help me I’ll tell Mum you broke my plane.

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