fly | madderton

PROLOGUE

They'd always been best friends. Ever since the day they'd first met. Richard Madden was only six when his family had upped and left the country, moving South to a tiny village in the West of Wales. He'd decided his life was over when his parents told them he was moving, but soon forgot entirely about this, as six year olds tend to do.

Moving to a new school was nerve wracking. Naturally, as a very young child in an entirely new country, he knew nobody there. He was put into a class of kids his age, with a wonderful teacher called Mrs Bennett. She immediately made Richard feel comfortable, as if she was the mother of every child in that room.

And that's where it all started. There was one person in the whole room who was sat alone without a partner. It was this boy that Mrs Bennett sat Richard next to, crouching down beside the table to introduce them.

"Taron, this is Richard. He needs a friend to show him around and to help him settle in. Can you do that?" She'd asked, smiling that soft, friendly smile at the boy. He nodded quickly, never one to disappoint an adult. Or anyone, for that matter.

"Of course, Mrs B!" He patted the seat beside him for Richard to sit down, excited at the prospect of finally having someone to talk to during all of his lessons. That was the reason he'd initially been sat by himself, but there was no way the teacher could rationalise having an even number of students and two of them being sat separately, when neither of them really deserved to be punished like that. "We're gonna be the best of friends."

And, well, he wasn't far off the mark. The pair sat next to each other every day for that whole academic year, and managed to beg their teacher to let them do it again the next. They were finally separated in the third year, but that didn't come anywhere close to getting in the way of their friendship. No, instead they would just pull faces at each other and giggle during whatever silent conversation they were having across the room, much to the dismay of the teacher, who eventually gave in and allowed the boys to sit next to each other. Taron was still very much a handful, but Richard was far quieter. During school, Taron was one of the louder kids in the class. He was always first to put his hand up and speak during class discussions, and always first to speak anyway, regardless of whether or not the teacher had asked for input. It wasn't malicious disturbance, he just had a lot of energy and confidence, and loved to entertain a crowd. The boy was far too intelligent and charming for any of his teachers to actually get annoyed by his behaviour, and he was in fact very well liked among adults. Not as well liked as Richard, however, who often acted like his friend's handler. Whenever he was verging on being too much, Richard would elbow Taron and mutter something about the work, and Taron was always quick to shut up and get his head down. Surprisingly, this never caused any tension between the two. It was almost as if Taron knew that he pushed it sometimes, and that he needed Richard by his side as the perfect neutralising base to his behaviour.

It wasn't just in school that they were inseparable. Richard practically lived at Taron's house, and if he wasn't so terrified of upsetting his parents (or, adults in general), they would have had to drag him away kicking and screaming. Instead, though, he would just wander home by himself for his tea every night when Taron's mum told him it was time to leave. Or, in the winter, when his parents showed up outside to pick him up. Sometimes Taron would walk with him halfway, and other times he would walk all the way with his mum a few steps behind them to walk Taron home when they'd begged her to call his parents and let Richard stay for tea (and, naturally, for a few hours afterwards so they could play). This was such a regular occurrence that they ended up designating a few nights a week to Richard staying for tea, and he'd sleep over almost every Friday night. And this night was not unlike any other.

"Mum? Mum, we're home!" Taron would call, kicking his shoes off and leaving them in a heap by the door so he could run through into the kitchen. On this particular occasion, they'd gone to the park straight from school, up until the hands on Taron's wristwatch matched the drawing on the little scrap of paper his mum had given him. He was trying his hardest to learn to tell the time properly, but it wasn't good enough for him to be trusted to get them home on time for tea. They were lucky to live in a small, safe village. It was the sort of place where everybody knew everybody. The school was only a few streets away from Taron's house, and Richard's was only a few streets away from that, so the boys were given the freedom to roam by themselves, so long as they weren't out by themselves after dark, and they were home when they were told to be.