THE MORNING SUN streaked across the playground, painting distorted shadows of everything in its path.
‘There you are,’ a voice came from somewhere behind Jake. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He turned to see Paul crouched beside the school pond, fishing for tadpoles.
‘Oh sorry, I was in the coat-room talking to Arianna.’
Paul grinned. ‘Oh yeah, now I know.’
‘No you don’t. We were just talking about the holidays.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I believe you.’
‘Anyway,’ Jake said firmly, ‘did you hear what she said happened when she stayed with her dad?’
‘No, I was too busy picking Benny's gum off my sleeve. He is so gross.’
Jake half smiled. ‘Well, anyway, I don’t think we should talk about the woods at school any more. We don’t want everyone going up there.’
‘Whatever.’ He shrugged. ‘Do you fancy a game of conkers?’ He held out a handful of empty snail shells.
***
When it was finally time to go home, Jake had forgotten all about his conversation with Arianna. He chased Paul out to the playground.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Paul called, running over to Mrs Miller.
‘Hello, darling,’ she said, disappearing into the fuzzy brown mass of hair as she kissed his head.
‘Hello, Jake, my love,’ she said.
‘Hello, Mrs Miller,’ he replied. ‘Have you seen my mum?’
‘Yes, she’s walking up the lane with Bruce. It looked like she was getting a telling off from Mrs Higgins again, though. Bruce was terrorising her beloved cat Fluffy. Mangy old thing.’
Jake would never forget watching Dad being dragged through the tea and cake marquee at the last school fete when Bruce spotted a cat. Mrs Parkers’ award-winning victoria sponge ended up on the vicar’s lap, who was then catapulted across the marquee when the lead wrapped around his chair. Six months later, Mum said they were still talking about it at the PTFA meetings.
‘Jake!’ Mum was standing outside the school gates with a lathered-up Bruce. His tail was wagging back and forth like he was trying to take off and he shuffled on the spot, eyes glimmering and lips curled up as though he were smiling. Jake ran out and threw his arms around him and then around Mum.
‘Have you spoken to Paul’s mum about him coming over tomorrow?’ he asked.
‘Yes, it’s all sorted. Come on, let’s get going. I’ve left the potatoes boiling.’ She nudged Bruce, who had now started sniffing the ground and was just arching his back and looking away as if that meant that no-one could see what he was about to do. The boys sniggered.
‘See you tomorrow,’ Jake said.
‘Bye, Jake,’ Paul replied.
Mum put her arm around Jake, and he put his arm around her, and they set off home.
‘Can I go and play in Grandpa’s woods when we get home, please, Mum?’ Jake said.
‘I should think so, as long as you’re back for tea at six.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ He gave her an extra squeeze.
***
As soon as they got back, Jake leapt up the stairs three at a time, threw on his faded jeans and a torn jumper and was ready to go back out again before Mum had even taken her coat off. He grabbed his backpack and forced his feet inside his loosely-tied trainers.
