Dragons

The first thing Jack knew about the move was when his house started filling up with empty boxes.  At first, it was only a few, in the utility room.  Then, one day, he came home from school full of excitement with a page of cheats for his Dragon Slayer game and couldn’t reach the Play Station because of all the boxes.

“Mum, Mum,” he shouted. “Come and move these boxes. I want to play.”

“Not now darling,” his mother called back,” you’ll have to wait ‘til I’ve got time to sort them out.”

The trouble was, she didn’t ever seem to have time to sort them out, and the Play Station languished in the corner of the room where he couldn’t get at it.  His page of cheats grew crumpled and grubby in the bottom of his school bag.  In the end, he went to his friend Callum’s, and played the wonderful Dragon Slayer game there.

“Why do we have to have all these boxes here anyway,” he asked.

“We’re moving house, darling,” said his mother, rather distractedly. 

“Where are we moving to?” he asked, expecting an answer like “Leightonheath” or “Southcote Cross”, both villages within easy reach of his school and friends.

“Oh, we’re going to live in Wales, near to Auntie Gwen’s,” his mother said vaguely.

She didn’t look at Jack as she spoke, so she didn’t see his eyes open wider than wide and his mouth fall open with horror.   Moving house was going to be worse than when his little sister Sophie was born.

“What’s up, kid?” his dad asked, as a half eaten plate of burger and chips sat growing cold on the kitchen table.

“Dunno,” Jack muttered, “not hungry.” And stomped off into the garden, kicking the table leg as he went.

His mum and dad exchanged looks, but said nothing.

                            *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

“Dad?” Jack asked one day as the move drew nearer. “Who’s Mavis Quire?”

“Eh?” said his father, trying to fit the food blender back into its box, without much success.

“Mavis Quire,” Jack repeated. “When I told Miss we were moving to Wales, she said it was all leaks and Mavis Quire.”

His dad choked on his cup of coffee.

“It’s men singing, Jack,” he explained. “Male Voice Choirs  - and leeks are a kind of onion.  Onions and men singing.”

Jack was now more confused than ever  -  he’d had a picture in his mind of a land full of puddles and a big lady called Mavis Quire  - he imagined her to be a bit like Georgie Roebuck’s mum, maybe with a tattoo and piercings, quite cool, really – and now his dad said onions and men singing.  He definitely didn’t want to move to Wales.  

Jack was used to the Bury Green Estate  -  neat little houses, pocket handkerchief gardens,  small communal play areas and a short, safe, walk to school.  He liked it.  He liked his home, the living room with his Play Station, his toy trains and his collection of dragons.  He liked his friends, Callum and Solomon who both lived nearby.  He wanted to stay where he was at Bury Green and move up from Miss Jackson’s class to Mr. Brown’s class in September, with everyone else.  He wanted to stay in Bury Green for ever and ever.

“Mum,” he said one afternoon after school, towards the end of term, “Mr. Brown’s doing a class project on dragons next year ….”

His mum stopped what she was doing and looked at him for a minute.