Buddy by Nigel Hinton

Author:Nigel Hinton
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141945545
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2009-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

Julius and Charmian were waiting outside with their parents. They all stood up and Buddy said, ‘Hello. This is my dad.’ There was more shaking of hands and Buddy prayed that his dad wouldn’t say anything horrible about black people. He needn’t have worried. His dad was so obviously glad that the interview was over that he was smiling as if they were old friends.

‘How’d it go?’ Charmian whispered.

‘It was ok.’

‘Lucky you, we’ve still got ours,’ Julius said and crossed his fingers.

The twins asked about his marks and what the teachers had said and by the time he’d finished telling them, his dad was deep in conversation with the Rybeeros.

‘It bring back old times,’ Mrs Rybeero was saying with a broad grin. She saw Buddy looking and said, ‘You didn’t tell us you dad like Rock ’n’ Roll. An’ my, him dress nice. Them was the days – Little Richard, Fats Domino.’

‘Yeah, but Buddy Holly was the King,’ his dad said. ‘I saw ’im, you know – in ’58 when ’e was over ’ere. Cor, ’e was brilliant. I mean, them others was good, too, but, I don’t know, there was somefing about ’im – ’is voice an’ all. It was like ’e was singing fings you knew about – know what I mean? Like fings that ’ad ’appened to you?’

Mrs Rybeero nodded enthusiastically and his dad’s face was alive with pleasure at finding some people who shared his interest in Rock ’n’ Roll. Buddy could see that he was ready to go on talking but there was a cough from behind them. Mr Normington was waiting in the doorway.

‘Oh blimey – great start,’ Julius groaned as his parents excused themselves for keeping Mr Normington waiting.

‘They’re all right, ain’t they?’ his dad said as they got outside. ‘Funny they prefer the black singers like Fats and Little Richard. Still, they’re all right. That Normington bloke’s a bit of a berk, though, aint ’e?’

Buddy could have hugged him.

They walked part of the way together then his dad said, ‘Well, I’m off. You’ll be ok goin’ ’ome? And no screamin’ the ’ouse down, right?’ He went off towards the centre of town, swinging his plastic bag.

The journey home seemed to take no time at all. Buddy’s body felt springy and he wanted to laugh and shout out as he thought how silly he’d been earlier.

He was whistling as he put the key in the front door and let himself in. The whistle died on his lips as he looked back across the road. Someone was standing in the shadows opposite the house in the same place that he’d thought he’d seen someone on Sunday. There was no doubt this time, though. It was real.

He dashed inside and slammed the door behind him then fumbled for the light switch. The light flashed on and he switched it off again and crept back to the door. He lifted the flap of the letter-box. The figure was still there, a darker shape in the darkness of the shadows.

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