The Birdwatcher

The Birdwatcher by William Shaw Page A

Book: The Birdwatcher by William Shaw Read Free Book Online
Authors: William Shaw
Ads: Link
announced to the girl on the till at the Spar. ‘I caught him the other night, out in the garden. I’d take him to our doctor, only the man’s practically senile.’
    Mrs Creedy was standing behind them, clutching a bottle of bleach. She said, ‘Poor little soldier. He’s got to be brave, like his daddy was.’
    Billy tugged at his mother’s coat, but she was still waiting for her change.
    ‘Our community has lost a great man,’ continued Mrs Creedy. She was dressed in the housecoat she wore in the chip shop, reeking of fat, with her black hair all blowdried upwards. Please shut up, thought Billy, but there was no stopping her. Lowering her voice, she said, ‘A great defender of the Union.’
    ‘Which union is that, exactly?’ said his mother loudly, staring her in the eye. ‘I know all about my husband and his unions.’
    Mrs Creedy reddened. ‘I was only trying to show respect,’ said Mrs Creedy.
    The women in the queue behind were all pretending to look away. Billy pulled harder. But his mother said, ‘Respect, is it? I’m surprised you have any of that left at all. You and half the women in this town.’
    Nobody said a word; the girl behind the till stared at her feet as she held out the 80p change.
    ‘The big men,’ she said as they walked away as fast as they could, pushing past the prams and shopping trollies. ‘They all love the big bloody men.’
     
    And Billy thought about the other two men the gun had killed. He imagined them kneeling at the country roadside awaiting the bullet, or chased down dark alleys.
    If it had happened to him, he would have run. He was pretty fast. He had heard if you zigzag there was less chance of the bullet actually hitting you. They’d all practised running like that in the playground, him and all his mates at the school.
    It was now two weeks after the funeral and he was back at school. People stared and pointed. Most attention anyone had ever paid him. At break, Patrick Hamilton caught him by the outside toilets. ‘What was it like, Billy? Did ye see them shoot your da? Rusty says they shot at you too. Did they?’
    After school, he and Rusty ran up past the checkpoint.
    ‘Can I come an’ play at your house?’ asked Rusty, panting for breath.
    All his schoolmates were making excuses to call round. They wanted to see where his dad had been killed.
    ‘Me mam’s in Armagh buying a wedding dress for my sister. I forgot me key an’ I’m locked out till five. Oh g’an,’ pleaded Rusty.
    ‘Can’t Stampy let you in?’
    ‘Nah. He’s off at the hospital doing fizzy therapy.’
    ‘OK,’ said Billy, Rusty tailing after. Billy was just about to turn in to walk onto the estate when he heard the car coming up behind them.
    He expected it to pass them on the road but it didn’t. Instead he heard it slow right down and begin to crawl along behind them. Guessing it was the police, Billy paused to pretend to do up his shoelaces to give him a chance to glance backwards. The car had stopped too. It was an old grey Morris Oxford being driven by a fat-faced man with a quiff, with a young man in dark glasses sitting next to him. Definitely not the police; worse.
    He stood and started walking. The car began moving too. Oh crap.
    Rusty hadn’t even noticed it. He was going on about Star Wars . ‘When the big spaceship whizzed over at the beginning . . . it was amazing.’
    ‘Come on, Rusty. Pick it up.’
    ‘My sister Bridget ducked. It was that realistic. She’s a ninny. She cried all the way through.’
    ‘Run, Rusty.’
    ‘Why?’
    Billy took Rusty’s arm and started yanking him forwards.
    ‘What’s the rush?’
    Billy broke into a sprint.
    The grey Morris Oxford revved up behind them. They were almost at the estate now, where the kerbstones ahead turned red, white and blue.
    ‘Wait for me, Billy,’ called Rusty.
    But Billy was far ahead of him now, at the playground, when the car passed them and stopped, just ahead.
    The guy with dark glasses stepped out

Similar Books

The Runner

Christopher Reich

Murder Fir Christmas

Joyce Lavene, Jim Lavene

The Shanghai Factor

Charles McCarry

Brookland

Emily Barton

The Echoing Grove

Rosamond Lehmann

A Witch's Love

Erin Bluett

Taking a Chance

KC Ann Wright