IT WAS EIGHT o’clock when Jake’s alarm clock went off. Night had faded like a distant memory and the day called out to him through the blue-checked curtains that covered the lead-paned window of his bedroom. Birds twittered loudly as if they were making up for lost time.
Jake rubbed his eyes and peeled back the patchwork quilt his mother had made. He was just about to plan another day in the woods when he remembered it was the first day back at school. He closed his eyes to savour the last few minutes of the holidays.
‘Jake, are you coming?’
‘Yes, Dad, I’ll be down in a minute.’
He looked over at the big green digits on his alarm clock: eight fifteen. He jumped out of bed, grabbed his freshly ironed uniform and raced off down the hall to the bathroom. No more than two minutes went by and he was charging down the stairs, shirt hanging out and tie slung around his neck.
‘When are you going to learn to do up that tie of yours, Jake Summers?’ said his mother, catching him before he went flying over Bruce.
‘Woof! … Woof!’
‘Morning, Bruce!’
‘Right, now go and eat your breakfast,’ his mother said, tucking Jake’s tie into his jumper. ‘Dad wants to leave in ten minutes.’
A delicious waft of hot buttered toast drifted up his nose, drawing him to his breakfast. Bruce studied every mouthful hopefully. In five minutes flat, Jake had gathered up his schoolbooks and was waiting at the front door with his shoes and coat
on. Bill Summers appeared, performing one of his many floor-clearing dance moves, sporting a look that suggested ‘don’t you wish you could dance like me?’
‘Ready?’ he said casually, as if what he was doing was a perfectly normal part of anyone’s morning.
‘Dad!’ Jake sighed, shaking his head.
‘Have a nice day, my darling,’ Mum said, smiling as she handed Jake his packed lunch.
***
Millstream had seemed deserted over the last six weeks, but today it was a hive of activity. Jake watched the school bus pull up outside the school. The twins, Matt and Jacob, burst through the doors choking with laughter, followed by Nina. Her usually pale freckled face was now almost as red as her hair, which waved viciously around her head as if threatening to swipe the next person that dared to come close. Jake wondered what they had done to her this time.
‘You know, Dad, you don’t have to walk me to school anymore, now that I’m eleven,’ Jake said as they marched past the village memorial and approached the school gate.
Dad smiled. ‘I know that, Jake, but I like our little walk in the mornings.’
Dad reminded Jake of Grandpa when he smiled. They were similar in many ways, except that for some reason, one that Jake could never quite put his finger on, Jake never argued with Grandpa.
‘Well, maybe I could walk on my own some of the time then.’
‘Okay, I’ll talk to Mum about it tonight. Have a good day, my son.’ Dad bent down to give him a kiss but Jake dived to the side instead, patting his arm.
‘Bye, Dad.’ He grinned and, before Dad could say anything else, he whipped round and melted into the crowd.
Jake looked around the playground that he hadn’t seen for six whole weeks. It looked different somehow when he hadn’t been there for so long. A group of first years were huddled together, their eyes darting nervously around the playground and their mums chatting nearby. It reminded Jake that it was his final year. He grew at least three inches as he stood up straight and took a deep breath. But the feeling of
