Stay Where You Are and Then Leave by John Boyne Page A

didn’t make a sound. Nothing like this had happened since that monster Mr. Grace had made him hold out his hand six times for Excalibur and smiled while he was beating him, the purple veins in his great drinker’s nose pulsating with pleasure.
    A moment later, Margie burst into tears. She threw her arms around him and pulled him to her, and he could feel the dampness of her face against his shoulder. “Oh, Alfie,” she said. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean it. I was upset, that’s all. I didn’t mean it, honest I didn’t.”
    â€œWhere’s Dad?” he asked again, and Margie pulled away, holding him by the shoulders and looking him directly in the face. The flames from the fire showed the streaks of her tears along her cheeks.
    â€œWhat?” she asked.
    â€œI want to know where Dad is,” he said. “I want to know why he hasn’t written in almost a year.”
    â€œOf course he’s written, Alfie,” said Margie nervously.
    â€œThen where are the letters? You used to keep them under your mattress, but there haven’t been any new ones since—”
    â€œWhat are you doing looking under my mattress?” cried Margie. “Snooping in my things? Honestly, Alfie, I should—”
    â€œIf he’s written, then where are the letters?”
    Margie shrugged and looked as if she were trying to think of a good answer. “I don’t know,” she said eventually. “I must have lost them. I must have thrown them away.”
    â€œI don’t believe you,” shouted Alfie. “You wouldn’t do that. I know you wouldn’t. Tell me the truth! You keep talking about a secret mission but you never explain it.”
    Margie dried her face and sat back on her chair. “All right,” she said at last. “He’s not fighting anymore, you’re right. But he doesn’t have time to write. A man from the War Office came to see me. He said that your dad was one of the bravest soldiers they’d ever seen, so they gave him new orders. He’s doing what he can to put an end to the war.”
    â€œWhat kind of mission is it?” asked Alfie.
    â€œHe wouldn’t tell me,” said Margie. “But I’m sure it’s very important. Anyway, the point is that until it’s finished, your dad isn’t allowed to write to us.”
    Alfie thought about it. “When did he come to see you?” he asked.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe man from the War Office.”
    Margie blew her cheeks out a little and looked away from him. “Oh, I can’t remember,” she said. “It was months ago.”
    â€œAnd what was his name?”
    â€œI don’t remember. What does it matter anyway?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me that he came?”
    â€œBecause I didn’t want to worry you. I know how clever you are, Alfie, but you’re only nine. And you were only eight then. There are some things that—”
    â€œDid you tell Granny Summerfield?”
    â€œNo, of course not.”
    â€œBut she’s a grown-up.”
    Margie looked flustered and stood up, shaking her head. “Alfie, I’m not going to continue with this conversation. You asked where your father is, and I’ve just told you. He’s on a secret mission. Now can we please just leave it there?”
    Alfie was happy to leave it there. There was no point asking any more questions because he was absolutely certain that she wouldn’t tell him the truth anyway. No man from the War Office had ever called at their house; there might have been lots of secret missions going on but his father wasn’t part of any of them, and wherever he was, Margie knew but wasn’t willing to say. But Alfie was certain that he would figure it out eventually if he just put it all together one piece at a time.
    Between then and now, however, he hadn’t got much farther in his investigations. No more