Luna Rae is Not Alone by Hayley Webster

Author:Hayley Webster
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nosy Crow
Published: 2021-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Rudo’s hospital bed is in a long ward with other kids, but there’s a curtain that goes all the way round it to give him his privacy. I’m glad his mum has taken Lolly to the park and given us time alone, and Dad has gone to work to talk about his new hours, because I really want to know what’s happened to him. I have the feeling it won’t be the full version if anyone else is there. I gasp when I see him. He’s all bandaged up, in a sort of hoist thing that’s wrapped round his middle, with one leg in plaster hanging in the air, like you see when people have hurt themselves on TV. He looks really poorly, even though he’s smiling at me.

“What on earth happened to you?” I say angrily. I don’t mean to sound angry; it’s just he really matters to me and I don’t want him to not be here any more. He’s the best thing that’s happened in so long, and I could cry seeing him there, all wrapped up and kept still like that. He’s got his hair down and long over his shoulders and is wearing a different-coloured headband to usual. He smiles softly and shrugs.

“Hello to you. It’s a long story,” he says.

“I’m here for an hour, so there’s time,” I say, tapping my fingers on the corner of the metal frame, pretending to be impatient. I smile at him, though. It’s such a relief to see him. “Start with what’s actually wrong with you. From where I’m standing you look like you’ve broken yourself all over.”

“Well…” he says. “I do have a broken collarbone, something broken in my leg, and a light puncture wound to my ribcage that needed late surgery to fix up a bit.”

I put my hand to my mouth.

“It’s all OK,” he reassures me quickly, even though it should be me doing the reassuring. “Kids’ bones heal much faster than adults. I’ll probably be tap-dancing again by next week.”

I tut. But I’m glad he’s still Rudo. “But how did it happen?”

“You know I said I like sneaking…” He pulls a sheepish look.

“Yes…”

“I had this idea,” he says, grinning now. “You know the bridge the school bus goes under? The one people hang rubbish homemade banners on that say things like HAPPY 50th, SUE! and WELL DONE FOR PASSING YOUR DRIVING TEST, DUNCAN?”

I can’t think of the bridge, but I know the kinds of banners he means. They used to hang them on the wall outside the pub in our old village, and people would add rude words to them if they were up there too long.

“Sort of,” I say.

“And you know I said I like … murals? Well. For the past few months I’ve been going out early, or sometimes late, to spray-paint my own banner straight on to the concrete.”

I stare at him. He looks so pleased with himself, despite sitting in a hospital bed.

“You … what?” So it was him sneaking out of his house late at night.

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