The Children of Castle Rock by Natasha Farrant

Author:Natasha Farrant [Natasha Farrant]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571323579
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2018-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Partners

Fergus was cross.

While Alice was in the library researching seabird paradises, Fergus was mucking out the pigs.

The pigs were not the reason he was cross. Just as Alice now enjoyed reveille, Fergus had grown fond of the pigs. Shovelling poo and straw was hard, smelly work, but the pigs themselves were reliable. The pigs came sniffing whenever he called them, and they were always pleased to see him. The pigs were reliable, which meant they didn’t do things like run off on their own to leap into boats and nearly drown. Fergus had seen Alice when they carried her back to school, all white and wet and floppy, and he had been terrified. They had pushed past him and all the other curious students and teachers, and taken her up to the infirmary, and he had gone to the boathouse, where he had found the crate of fireworks in the bottom of a boat, and taken one and wrapped it carefully in plastic before placing it in his pocket, thinking she would like him to let it off over her grave as a tribute …

Then, when he realised his best friend was not dead at all, he was furious.

Yes, his best friend. He’d never told her, but that is how he thought of her. Though now you could make that his so-called best friend.

Or his ex-best friend.

Best friends, like fellow criminals, were proper partners. He’d never actually had a best friend before, but he was almost sure that was true. And proper partners didn’t go haring off on their own to produce spectacular fireworks displays in the middle of lochs. Proper partners, he thought, shovelling pig-pee-soaked straw into a wheelbarrow, planned together.

Everything.

He was almost sure.

‘Fergus!’

It was her – here – now! Well, he wouldn’t speak to her. She’d see how it felt to be left out …

‘Fergus!’

‘WHAT?’

She was standing on the middle rung of the gate, dressed in pyjamas tucked into wellies, under orange school waterproofs, her unplaited hair exploding down her back in wild curls under an orange school beanie.

She looked bonkers. His heart warmed.

‘That was a mad, mad, mad thing to do,’ he growled.

‘I know. I know! I’m sorry! But Fergus, Fergus – do you want to do something even madder?’

*

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