slid them into library books. My only close shave was at lunchtime, when I scuttled out of the boys' changing room, where I'd left one in the showers. Miss Bute was passing by. She hesitated.
“Hello, Robert,” she said.
“Miss.”
“Is there sports club today?” she asked.
“Yes, miss. No, miss.” I looked down. I felt so stupid, caught so soon. “I don't know, miss.”
We stood there. For a moment I thought of opening my bag, showing her: Yes, it's me, miss .
She reached up and caught something in the empty air.
“Oh, look!” she said. “Hello, little dangler.”
A tiny spider. It crawled across her palm, then hung from her finger on a string.
“Look at the skill of it,” she said. “Look at its perfect spiderness.”
She turned it three times around my head. “It will bring you luck, Bobby. Make a wish.”
I smiled.
“Thanks, miss.”
She let the spider climb right down to earth; then she turned away.
“Take care of yourself, Bobby,” she said.
M aybe Ailsa read my mind. It was late afternoon. I was doing my homework, a drawing of the skull, the way the bones are fused in it, the way the openings are formed in it, the way it's so beautifully made to protect the brain. I was shading in the pitch-black eye sockets. But my thoughts were in the dunes, seeking McNulty. I was about to ask Mam if I could take some food to him. There was a knocking at the door.
“Who's there?” called Mam.
“Ailsa Spink!” came the reply.
“Come in, pet!” yelled Mam.
Ailsa clicked the latch and stepped inside and stood there grinning.
“Hello, pet,” said Mam, ruffling Ailsa's hair.
“I brought you these,” said Ailsa. She opened a cloth and showed a plateful of jam tarts, all bright and glistening. “We had some spare, Mrs. Burns.”
“Spare? Even with them ravenous men of yours?”
Ailsa winked.
“Kept them out of sight, sneaked them out the house. They'd eat the plates if I let them. Go on.” She held them out to Dad. “I know you like them, Mr. Burns. Black currant or plum. They're lovely.”
Dad smacked his lips and chose black currant. He ate. She held out the plate to Mam and me. We ate and grinned and licked the crumbs from our fingers and said how tasty they were.
“You'll have come for our Bobby, then?” said Dad.
“Distracting him from his work,” said Mam. “Leading the poor lad astray.”
Ailsa shrugged and pondered.
“That's right,” she said.
Mam clicked her tongue.
“We hear you're still not going in,” she said.
“I'm not,” said Ailsa.
Mam pointed and wagged her finger.
“You'll regret it, you know. Silly lass. School could open up a whole new world for you.”
Ailsa sighed. She stared at the ceiling.
“I know,” she said. “And probably I will go in the end. Even stupid Losh and Yak know that. Then they'll lose their skivvy, eh?”
“Too much fire in you, that's your problem,” said Dad. “You'll lead them a dance when you do go in.” He grinned. “You'll be the brightest of them all.”
We smiled together. I looked at Mam.
“Aye, go on,” she said. “Long as you're back in time to finish it all.”
I went upstairs and changed out of my uniform, then left the house with Ailsa. She lifted a package from the garden.
“More tarts,” she said. “A bottle of warm tea. Howay.”
“For McNulty,” I said.
“That's right.”
“I should take him something too.”
I opened Dad's garden shed and took out two candles and some matches.
We walked quickly toward the dunes.
“We saw him wandering in the dunes,” she said. “Me and Daddy and Losh and Yak. Losh thought he was some villain after the chickens or something; then we saw he was just like a poor lost soul. Running back and forward across the sand and his eyes all wild and he's jabbering to himself. He seen us and he tailed it. We followed him to his shack. I tell Daddy and the lads what you told me: the war, the quayside, the fire and the skewer. McNulty turned and looked
“Hello, Robert,” she said.
“Miss.”
“Is there sports club today?” she asked.
“Yes, miss. No, miss.” I looked down. I felt so stupid, caught so soon. “I don't know, miss.”
We stood there. For a moment I thought of opening my bag, showing her: Yes, it's me, miss .
She reached up and caught something in the empty air.
“Oh, look!” she said. “Hello, little dangler.”
A tiny spider. It crawled across her palm, then hung from her finger on a string.
“Look at the skill of it,” she said. “Look at its perfect spiderness.”
She turned it three times around my head. “It will bring you luck, Bobby. Make a wish.”
I smiled.
“Thanks, miss.”
She let the spider climb right down to earth; then she turned away.
“Take care of yourself, Bobby,” she said.
M aybe Ailsa read my mind. It was late afternoon. I was doing my homework, a drawing of the skull, the way the bones are fused in it, the way the openings are formed in it, the way it's so beautifully made to protect the brain. I was shading in the pitch-black eye sockets. But my thoughts were in the dunes, seeking McNulty. I was about to ask Mam if I could take some food to him. There was a knocking at the door.
“Who's there?” called Mam.
“Ailsa Spink!” came the reply.
“Come in, pet!” yelled Mam.
Ailsa clicked the latch and stepped inside and stood there grinning.
“Hello, pet,” said Mam, ruffling Ailsa's hair.
“I brought you these,” said Ailsa. She opened a cloth and showed a plateful of jam tarts, all bright and glistening. “We had some spare, Mrs. Burns.”
“Spare? Even with them ravenous men of yours?”
Ailsa winked.
“Kept them out of sight, sneaked them out the house. They'd eat the plates if I let them. Go on.” She held them out to Dad. “I know you like them, Mr. Burns. Black currant or plum. They're lovely.”
Dad smacked his lips and chose black currant. He ate. She held out the plate to Mam and me. We ate and grinned and licked the crumbs from our fingers and said how tasty they were.
“You'll have come for our Bobby, then?” said Dad.
“Distracting him from his work,” said Mam. “Leading the poor lad astray.”
Ailsa shrugged and pondered.
“That's right,” she said.
Mam clicked her tongue.
“We hear you're still not going in,” she said.
“I'm not,” said Ailsa.
Mam pointed and wagged her finger.
“You'll regret it, you know. Silly lass. School could open up a whole new world for you.”
Ailsa sighed. She stared at the ceiling.
“I know,” she said. “And probably I will go in the end. Even stupid Losh and Yak know that. Then they'll lose their skivvy, eh?”
“Too much fire in you, that's your problem,” said Dad. “You'll lead them a dance when you do go in.” He grinned. “You'll be the brightest of them all.”
We smiled together. I looked at Mam.
“Aye, go on,” she said. “Long as you're back in time to finish it all.”
I went upstairs and changed out of my uniform, then left the house with Ailsa. She lifted a package from the garden.
“More tarts,” she said. “A bottle of warm tea. Howay.”
“For McNulty,” I said.
“That's right.”
“I should take him something too.”
I opened Dad's garden shed and took out two candles and some matches.
We walked quickly toward the dunes.
“We saw him wandering in the dunes,” she said. “Me and Daddy and Losh and Yak. Losh thought he was some villain after the chickens or something; then we saw he was just like a poor lost soul. Running back and forward across the sand and his eyes all wild and he's jabbering to himself. He seen us and he tailed it. We followed him to his shack. I tell Daddy and the lads what you told me: the war, the quayside, the fire and the skewer. McNulty turned and looked
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