The Fire-Eaters by David Almond

Author:David Almond [Almond, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-52374-7
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2003-09-23T04:00:00+00:00

Later, I went to see Ailsa. Yak was in the yard, heaving coal from the cart to the pickup truck.

“Allreet, Bobby lad?” he called.

“Aye,” I said.

“She's in the kitchen.” He winked. “Nae lovey-dovey stuff, mind. She's got our tea to make. OK?”

I just looked at him.

“How's that new school ganning?” he said.

“Fine.”

“You'll soon be too posh to gan on the cart, I s'pose?”

“No, I won't.”

“That's allreet, then. But you'll be learning tons, eh?”

“Aye.”

“Top of the class, are ye?”

“No, I'm not.”

“Course ye are, kidder. I kna ye. Head stuffed full of brains. So answer us this. What d'you call a bloke with nae lugs?”

“I don't know. What do you call a bloke with no lugs?”

“Do they teach you nowt in that place? You call him owt you like ‘cos he cannot hear you.”

I found Ailsa in the kitchen with an apron on. She was rolling pastry.

“Rabbit pie,” she said. “Losh shot it. You could stay if you like.” It smelt delicious. “Go on. Your mam wouldn't mind.”

“Mebbe,” I said. “Do you not get sick of it?”

“Of what?”

“Looking after them.”

“No,” she said. “I love them. And since me mam died…”

“How's the fawn?”

“Grand. Getting stronger.”

She took a bowl out of the oven. A dark bubbling stew. She laid the pastry over the top of it. She trimmed the edges. She quickly made the shape of a rabbit from spare pastry and put it at the center. Then she put the whole thing back in the oven and rubbed the flour from her hands. I thought of what Mam said: It isn't right. The girl's too young for such a life. What can her dad be thinking of?

“Isn't it weird?” she said. “I cook the rabbit but I look after the fawn. Do you understand it?”

“Not really.”

“Me neither, and they'll not teach you that at school. They come again, you know.”

“Who did?”

“The buggers from the council. They were in a big black car. ‘We've come to get your daughter to go to school,' they said. ‘Have you now?' says Dad. ‘You and whose army?' says Yak. ‘We don't want any trouble now,' they says, ‘and we know you folk is independentminded, but it's the law, Mr. Spink.' One of them turns to us, a big fat feller with specs and goggly eyes. ‘Do you not want to pursue your education, little lady?' he says. ‘No,' I say. ‘You'll be left behind, you know,' he says. ‘This is a time of opportunities and great improvement for common folk like you. All the other bairns is grabbing their opportunities.' ‘I diven't care,' I says. ‘I'm happy.' ‘See?' says Yak. ‘But it's the law, Mr. Spink,' says Goggle Eyes. ‘Then you can take your law,' says Losh, ‘and stick it up your hairy arse. Now hadaway. We've got work to do.’

“And did they go?” I said.

“Oh, aye, but they'll be back. They said the police might have to get involved. ‘Then so might this shovel of mine,' says Losh. They scarpered back to the car and off they went.

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