Read Online Cut To The Bone by Sally Spedding - Free Book Online
Authors: Sally Spedding
Tags: Wales
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the setting sun pinking his face, disguising his unease.
"Pete's. Why?"
Rita's smile disappeared.
"Nothing."
11
Monday 5th July 8.15 a.m.
The same punishing sun with no hint of the usual easterly wind, accompanied the only activity on the Meadow Hill development. The Booth-Collinses’s car valeters were busy hosing down their silver Merc and Land Cruiser, leaving soapy maps on the tarmac.
Louis felt cool spray kiss his cheek as he passed. Heard Kings of Leon from the men's radio. His favourite group. He liked their name, their lyrics, and that gave him some cred with the others in his class, especially Toby Lake whose parents were both dead.
He checked the wealthy couple's windows to see if either was gaping him, then turned right instead of left for the bus stop. Having unpeeled his blazer and green shirt from his shoulders, he pulled on an old vest which had been secreted inside his blazer's inside pocket then hid the hated clothes deep in a nearby bush. This time all pockets were empty. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
The small key to his special locking case was still missing from the last time. He just knew The Fawn had nicked it when she'd found his blazer, and whenever he could, went through all her drawers, unfolding and folding her bras her pants, discovering slim boxes of condoms with ancient sell-by dates and Tampax rocket launchers with strings. No joy.
He mounted the footbridge steps to watch the cars streaming up and down the A4700. The school run, where normally, he'd be trapped in The Maggot's new Discovery enduring Radio 3, to be set down at the school gates amongst the Baby Grubs in their Audis and Range Rovers. At least he’d got him a mobile for promising to call if he was late home.
The funky Orange Rome sat snugly in his back pocket as he set his new satchel down by his feet. He stood exactly halfway over the footbridge letting the vibrations from below travel up his legs to his dick. He felt it grow as he waited for Jez to appear.
He punched in the boy's mobile number, aware of more blood leaving his head; the same as on Saturday after orchestra practice when he'd gone down to Black Dog Brook...
"Yeah? Whosat?" A young voice answered. The line was poor.
"Me. Pete," said Louis "Why ain't yer 'ere?" His voice deliberately cloning with the other's. All elocution lessons banished for his purpose.
"I can't. Not today." Sounds of chaos around him. Hip hop. Other kids. Their dog barking. His Mum doing her nut.
Louis' envy deepened, shaping into a terrible loss which he couldn't quite identify, yet which seemed to engulf him more and more frequently when he least expected it.
"Ye fuckin’ promised," he snapped down the phone.
"Ye don' understand..."
Call ended. His dick shrinking. For a moment he hesitated. Saw his bus growling to a stop to let two crusts off. No-one from Scrub End went to his school. Couldn't afford the fare for starters, never mind the crap uniform.
He redialled - the phone’s orange metallic casing even more vivid in the sun. This time Mrs Martin answered. The line suddenly clear, her breathing just as if she was next to him.
"Sorry to bovver you," Louis persevered, "I’m Pete Brown, Jez's mate. I gotta give 'im back some dough I borrowed. Bin awake all night worryin' abaht it."
A squirrel tore up a nearby tree. His gaze followed its crazy leaps until it vanished among the leaves.
"Can I come over?"
"No."
Louis held the mobile away from his head, staring at it.
"Ye what?"
"I said no. Got it?"
He couldn't reply. He was too choked. What had Jez been saying? What did she know? He had to find out. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, working out a plan and ran down the slope into the maze of grime-blackened hovels, along Needle Walk then left into Wort Passage. No sunlight here, just the stench of rotting rubbish and bad drains which brought his breakfast into his throat. Last autumn's leaves still lay in dusty heaps. Here a stained
"Pete's. Why?"
Rita's smile disappeared.
"Nothing."
11
Monday 5th July 8.15 a.m.
The same punishing sun with no hint of the usual easterly wind, accompanied the only activity on the Meadow Hill development. The Booth-Collinses’s car valeters were busy hosing down their silver Merc and Land Cruiser, leaving soapy maps on the tarmac.
Louis felt cool spray kiss his cheek as he passed. Heard Kings of Leon from the men's radio. His favourite group. He liked their name, their lyrics, and that gave him some cred with the others in his class, especially Toby Lake whose parents were both dead.
He checked the wealthy couple's windows to see if either was gaping him, then turned right instead of left for the bus stop. Having unpeeled his blazer and green shirt from his shoulders, he pulled on an old vest which had been secreted inside his blazer's inside pocket then hid the hated clothes deep in a nearby bush. This time all pockets were empty. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
The small key to his special locking case was still missing from the last time. He just knew The Fawn had nicked it when she'd found his blazer, and whenever he could, went through all her drawers, unfolding and folding her bras her pants, discovering slim boxes of condoms with ancient sell-by dates and Tampax rocket launchers with strings. No joy.
He mounted the footbridge steps to watch the cars streaming up and down the A4700. The school run, where normally, he'd be trapped in The Maggot's new Discovery enduring Radio 3, to be set down at the school gates amongst the Baby Grubs in their Audis and Range Rovers. At least he’d got him a mobile for promising to call if he was late home.
The funky Orange Rome sat snugly in his back pocket as he set his new satchel down by his feet. He stood exactly halfway over the footbridge letting the vibrations from below travel up his legs to his dick. He felt it grow as he waited for Jez to appear.
He punched in the boy's mobile number, aware of more blood leaving his head; the same as on Saturday after orchestra practice when he'd gone down to Black Dog Brook...
"Yeah? Whosat?" A young voice answered. The line was poor.
"Me. Pete," said Louis "Why ain't yer 'ere?" His voice deliberately cloning with the other's. All elocution lessons banished for his purpose.
"I can't. Not today." Sounds of chaos around him. Hip hop. Other kids. Their dog barking. His Mum doing her nut.
Louis' envy deepened, shaping into a terrible loss which he couldn't quite identify, yet which seemed to engulf him more and more frequently when he least expected it.
"Ye fuckin’ promised," he snapped down the phone.
"Ye don' understand..."
Call ended. His dick shrinking. For a moment he hesitated. Saw his bus growling to a stop to let two crusts off. No-one from Scrub End went to his school. Couldn't afford the fare for starters, never mind the crap uniform.
He redialled - the phone’s orange metallic casing even more vivid in the sun. This time Mrs Martin answered. The line suddenly clear, her breathing just as if she was next to him.
"Sorry to bovver you," Louis persevered, "I’m Pete Brown, Jez's mate. I gotta give 'im back some dough I borrowed. Bin awake all night worryin' abaht it."
A squirrel tore up a nearby tree. His gaze followed its crazy leaps until it vanished among the leaves.
"Can I come over?"
"No."
Louis held the mobile away from his head, staring at it.
"Ye what?"
"I said no. Got it?"
He couldn't reply. He was too choked. What had Jez been saying? What did she know? He had to find out. He shoved the phone back in his pocket, working out a plan and ran down the slope into the maze of grime-blackened hovels, along Needle Walk then left into Wort Passage. No sunlight here, just the stench of rotting rubbish and bad drains which brought his breakfast into his throat. Last autumn's leaves still lay in dusty heaps. Here a stained
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