sitting in your room reading books. Go up to the woods; have fun, but mind Arnold, you know the rules. Don’t get dirty. You know what happens to dirty boys.’
Arnold glanced at his father; he actually didn’t know what happened to dirty boys. From as far back as he could remember, his Father had always said the same thing, and although he’d never heard his Father raise his voice or seen him lose his temper, there was something in the way he spoke, something which warned Arnold and made him afraid to ever dare to come home covered in dirt. He didn’t want to break the rules.
Arnold watched his sister stand on her tiptoes as their father bent down slightly to receive a goodbye kiss. He then turned to Arnold and reached out his hand for his son to shake it. ‘Have a good time children. And remember what I said.’
‘Fiddlesticks.’
‘What is it Arnie?’ His sister looked at him with soft big eyes and a mop of honey-blonde hair. He loved that she called him Arnie. She was the only one, and she only ever did it in secret when their father wasn’t listening.
‘I’ve forgotten our damn sandwiches, we’ll have to go back and get them.’
‘No Arnie, I’m too tired to go all the way back, you go.’
‘Then if you’re too tired to walk, you’ll be too tired to eat, so I’ll only bring mine.’ His sister looked at him before her cheeks flushed red with anger, which always made Arnold laugh; she had such a quick temper.
‘Arnold Wainwright, you’ll get my sandwiches for me or I’ll tell Pappy you said damn.’
‘You’ll do no such thing and if you do, I’ll tell him you call me Arnie.’
His sister, who was three years younger than him and four inches smaller than him, swung her fist violently. Arnold ducked out of the way and laughed, making his sister angrier.
‘Tell me you’ll get my sandwiches for me Arnie, tell me.’
‘Yes all right, I’ll get them, I was only teasing. Wait here for me. I won’t be long. Now, where’s my goodbye kiss?’ Arnold stretched his arms wide open and put out his cheek, expecting the loving kiss his sister always gave him; the only bit of affection he got.
‘I shan’t give you a kiss Arnold, I shan’t.’
‘Well I’ll give you one then.’ He bent forward but his sister darted away, still annoyed at her brother’s teasing.
Sighing, Arnold started to walk back through the woods towards the house, stopping for a brief moment as his sister shouted out to him.
‘Arnie?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you still love me more than life itself?’ Arnold smiled before he replied to his sister, whose face was lit up with eagerness.
‘Yes. Yes Izzy, I do.’
Arnold ran as fast as he could back to the house to get the sandwiches he’d forgotten. The grass made him feel as if he was springing along as he bounded down the hill towards the isolated house. The River Coquet ran alongside and though it looked particularly turbulent today, hungrily sweeping along broken branches and leaves, many a summer had been spent paddling in the shallow part of the river, followed by a desperate attempt to dry out their clothes before returning back home.
As he ran he thought about Izzy. He hated it when she was angry with him. Hopefully when he got back she would cheer up and be his friend again. As long as he had Izzy he didn’t need anyone else and hopefully neither did she.
Approaching the house, Arnold was cautious to check his clothing, making certain no stray piece of mud or grass had surreptitiously got onto his trousers.
The large wooden front door creaked open. Standing in the entrance hall, Arnold contemplated going straight into the kitchen to pick up the lunch he’d left on the side and hoped his father hadn’t heard the door. But then it would mean breaking rules and he was loath to do that; even for Izzy.
The mahogany stairs leading up to his father’s office were highly polished, as was the rest of the house; pristine, with nothing out of place. Pictures of
Arnold glanced at his father; he actually didn’t know what happened to dirty boys. From as far back as he could remember, his Father had always said the same thing, and although he’d never heard his Father raise his voice or seen him lose his temper, there was something in the way he spoke, something which warned Arnold and made him afraid to ever dare to come home covered in dirt. He didn’t want to break the rules.
Arnold watched his sister stand on her tiptoes as their father bent down slightly to receive a goodbye kiss. He then turned to Arnold and reached out his hand for his son to shake it. ‘Have a good time children. And remember what I said.’
‘Fiddlesticks.’
‘What is it Arnie?’ His sister looked at him with soft big eyes and a mop of honey-blonde hair. He loved that she called him Arnie. She was the only one, and she only ever did it in secret when their father wasn’t listening.
‘I’ve forgotten our damn sandwiches, we’ll have to go back and get them.’
‘No Arnie, I’m too tired to go all the way back, you go.’
‘Then if you’re too tired to walk, you’ll be too tired to eat, so I’ll only bring mine.’ His sister looked at him before her cheeks flushed red with anger, which always made Arnold laugh; she had such a quick temper.
‘Arnold Wainwright, you’ll get my sandwiches for me or I’ll tell Pappy you said damn.’
‘You’ll do no such thing and if you do, I’ll tell him you call me Arnie.’
His sister, who was three years younger than him and four inches smaller than him, swung her fist violently. Arnold ducked out of the way and laughed, making his sister angrier.
‘Tell me you’ll get my sandwiches for me Arnie, tell me.’
‘Yes all right, I’ll get them, I was only teasing. Wait here for me. I won’t be long. Now, where’s my goodbye kiss?’ Arnold stretched his arms wide open and put out his cheek, expecting the loving kiss his sister always gave him; the only bit of affection he got.
‘I shan’t give you a kiss Arnold, I shan’t.’
‘Well I’ll give you one then.’ He bent forward but his sister darted away, still annoyed at her brother’s teasing.
Sighing, Arnold started to walk back through the woods towards the house, stopping for a brief moment as his sister shouted out to him.
‘Arnie?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you still love me more than life itself?’ Arnold smiled before he replied to his sister, whose face was lit up with eagerness.
‘Yes. Yes Izzy, I do.’
Arnold ran as fast as he could back to the house to get the sandwiches he’d forgotten. The grass made him feel as if he was springing along as he bounded down the hill towards the isolated house. The River Coquet ran alongside and though it looked particularly turbulent today, hungrily sweeping along broken branches and leaves, many a summer had been spent paddling in the shallow part of the river, followed by a desperate attempt to dry out their clothes before returning back home.
As he ran he thought about Izzy. He hated it when she was angry with him. Hopefully when he got back she would cheer up and be his friend again. As long as he had Izzy he didn’t need anyone else and hopefully neither did she.
Approaching the house, Arnold was cautious to check his clothing, making certain no stray piece of mud or grass had surreptitiously got onto his trousers.
The large wooden front door creaked open. Standing in the entrance hall, Arnold contemplated going straight into the kitchen to pick up the lunch he’d left on the side and hoped his father hadn’t heard the door. But then it would mean breaking rules and he was loath to do that; even for Izzy.
The mahogany stairs leading up to his father’s office were highly polished, as was the rest of the house; pristine, with nothing out of place. Pictures of
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