Scarecrows by Robert Westall

Author:Robert Westall [Robert Westall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RHCP
Published: 2005-07-06T16:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Joe Moreton, ‘about the kid.’ Simon was once again crouched over the cupboard. He had given up feeling guilty about eavesdropping; no longer cared. ‘I got through to him once, you know. I swear. Over that kitten. He really looked at me like I was human. ’Cause I was taking him seriously. Maybe he thinks I don’t like him. I mean, nowadays I can hardly bring myself to speak to him, or even look at him. Maybe he’s getting the wrong message.’

‘Don’t be thick, Joe. He knows exactly what’s on your mind. You’re as open as a book.’

‘Oh, I don’t know . . . I’m not always like I am with you. I can be very sarcastic . . .’

‘Only with strangers. You’re like a lobster – all armour outside and soft as hell inside. I should know.’

‘But does he?’

‘Don’t think everyone’s like you. He’s not. He’s hard inside.’

‘Nobody’s that hard inside. I keep feeling so sorry for him. I’d like to give him a present.’

‘What sort of present?’ Mum’s voice, suddenly sharp, worried.

‘Saw a smashing bike in Knutsford – racer, alloy frame, six gears – schoolboy’s dream. What kid could resist?’

‘This kid. Oh, Joe, the whole point about that terrible old boneshaker he rides is that his father used to ride it. He’ll keep it, down to the last speck of rust.’

‘OK. Let him. Doesn’t mean he can’t have a new one as well . . . he could ride both. No harm trying, is there?’

‘Joe, Joe, you can’t buy love.’

‘Anybody’d given me a bike when I was a kid, I’d have loved them forever. Even if it was a mass of rust. Trouble with that kid is, he’s never known what it’s like to go without.’

Mum’s voice grew sharper. ‘Leave it, Joe. He’d only use it to screw you. Refuse to ride it, leave it out in the rain, smash it to pieces.’

Joe Moreton suddenly flared. ‘I don’t know. We’ve tried playing it your way. Where’s it got us? Things just get worse and worse. What’s going to be the end of it? C’mon, what do you see as the end of it? What you got in mind?’

Mum’s voice went cold and dead. ‘I know what the end will be. He’ll go to Wellington at the end of the holidays, and then we shall get some peace. Just the three of us again.’

‘What about Christmas? And when he leaves school?’

‘He’ll go away again. Into the Army. Globe-trotting, just like his father. He’ll come and see me twice a year. Christmas and my birthday; because it’s his duty.’

‘God – how can you be so heartless? He’s your kid.’

And upstairs, Simon rocked backwards and forwards. Mum, Mum, it’s not true. Mum, can’t you see I want you? I need you?

‘I’m not heartless, Joe. Just realistic. He’s so like his father . . . Derek was leaving me before he was killed. He’d really left already, I suppose. I’ve always wondered why it hurt so little, Derek’s dying.

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