care.”
“I think Lemur might actually have stolen something from Mr Murphy!”
“Really? You should definitely be a detective.”
“You think you know everything that Lemur does? You’ve said before that he’s always got loads of plans and you don’t always go along with them because they’re so crazy.”
“So?”
“So he might just have got fed up with that and done something on his own.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“I wonder if he’s going to get into trouble? Big trouble? That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Kit, shut up.”
“Does he get annoyed with the rest of you being big wusses? D’you think he’d like to be in a different gang?”
“No! He’s one of us. Always.”
“But different from the rest of you?”
“No. Not really. Well, he kind of is, kind of – but not really. In fact, he’s just like all of us.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s like Hector in that he…”
“Is a know-all.”
“…knows a lot of stuff and he likes to be in charge. He’s daring like Skoosh – always up for a new adventure.”
“How’s he like Bru?”
“Well, he’s really loyal. You can totally trust him.”
“Until the Mr Murphy incident…”
“Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?”
“Never.”
“You can
absolutely
trust Lemur.”
“Can they not trust you?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just mean it’s a particular characteristic.”
“And I suppose he’s like you because he’s clever and funny?”
“You admit I’m clever and funny?”
“Only compared to your friends. Not compared to normal people.”
I throw a cushion at her head. It’s the only way to stop her prattling sometimes.
Still, at least I know she suspects nothing about Cathkin.
***
The days get hotter and hotter. Skooshie, Hector and I are turning brown – and not all of it’s dirt. Lemur and Bru don’t really tan. Well, maybe Bru does. With his freckles, it’s a bit hard to tell – they might be a bit more joined up than usual. Lemur stays as white as a pint of milk. I roll out of bed every morning sure it will be sunny and it is. I grab the nearest pair of shorts and the first clean t-shirt in the drawer. I pull on my sandshoes while I’m chewing my toast. If I’m caught before getting to the door, I brush my teeth. Bed to outside in less than ten minutes.
So one morning – it was the Thursday before Cathkin Friday (yes, that close) – I’m sitting on the grass near the flats waiting for everybody to arrive when Skooshie turns up. He’s walking really oddly, like he can’t bend. He’s also got his arm glued to his side. Unusually in this heat, he’s wearing long football socks. Even more unusually, they’re pulled right up over his knees, nearly reaching his shorts.
“Are you expecting snow, Skoosh?” I’m about to ask, but I’m stopped by his curious expression. He’s rolling his eyes up really high, then down towards his glued arm. He looks like a toad who hasn’t yet learned how to catch flies successfully.
“What are you doing?”
“
I’ve got it
,” he hisses, still doing the eye-rolling thing.
It’s only then that I notice, in the small gap between the top of his socks and the hem of his shorts, a dark piece of metal. The jemmy! It’s well concealed –jammed up his t-shirt and down his socks – which goes a long way to explaining the funny walking.
“
Brilliant!
” I hiss back. “Why have you brought it here? How did you get down all the stairs?”
“It took a while,” he confesses. “But Hector thought it would be better to hide it by the fence – so we’re quicker tomorrow.”
“Good plan.”
“You all right, son?” Mrs Clarke from our flats has appeared, shopping bag over her arm. She’s looking at Skooshie with concern. “I saw you coming down the stairs there. Is your leg really sore?”
“He was just practising, Mrs Clarke,” I say. “We’re competing in a three-legged race and he’s so keen,
“I think Lemur might actually have stolen something from Mr Murphy!”
“Really? You should definitely be a detective.”
“You think you know everything that Lemur does? You’ve said before that he’s always got loads of plans and you don’t always go along with them because they’re so crazy.”
“So?”
“So he might just have got fed up with that and done something on his own.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“I wonder if he’s going to get into trouble? Big trouble? That’s what’s worrying you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Kit, shut up.”
“Does he get annoyed with the rest of you being big wusses? D’you think he’d like to be in a different gang?”
“No! He’s one of us. Always.”
“But different from the rest of you?”
“No. Not really. Well, he kind of is, kind of – but not really. In fact, he’s just like all of us.”
“How?”
“Well, he’s like Hector in that he…”
“Is a know-all.”
“…knows a lot of stuff and he likes to be in charge. He’s daring like Skoosh – always up for a new adventure.”
“How’s he like Bru?”
“Well, he’s really loyal. You can totally trust him.”
“Until the Mr Murphy incident…”
“Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?”
“Never.”
“You can
absolutely
trust Lemur.”
“Can they not trust you?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just mean it’s a particular characteristic.”
“And I suppose he’s like you because he’s clever and funny?”
“You admit I’m clever and funny?”
“Only compared to your friends. Not compared to normal people.”
I throw a cushion at her head. It’s the only way to stop her prattling sometimes.
Still, at least I know she suspects nothing about Cathkin.
***
The days get hotter and hotter. Skooshie, Hector and I are turning brown – and not all of it’s dirt. Lemur and Bru don’t really tan. Well, maybe Bru does. With his freckles, it’s a bit hard to tell – they might be a bit more joined up than usual. Lemur stays as white as a pint of milk. I roll out of bed every morning sure it will be sunny and it is. I grab the nearest pair of shorts and the first clean t-shirt in the drawer. I pull on my sandshoes while I’m chewing my toast. If I’m caught before getting to the door, I brush my teeth. Bed to outside in less than ten minutes.
So one morning – it was the Thursday before Cathkin Friday (yes, that close) – I’m sitting on the grass near the flats waiting for everybody to arrive when Skooshie turns up. He’s walking really oddly, like he can’t bend. He’s also got his arm glued to his side. Unusually in this heat, he’s wearing long football socks. Even more unusually, they’re pulled right up over his knees, nearly reaching his shorts.
“Are you expecting snow, Skoosh?” I’m about to ask, but I’m stopped by his curious expression. He’s rolling his eyes up really high, then down towards his glued arm. He looks like a toad who hasn’t yet learned how to catch flies successfully.
“What are you doing?”
“
I’ve got it
,” he hisses, still doing the eye-rolling thing.
It’s only then that I notice, in the small gap between the top of his socks and the hem of his shorts, a dark piece of metal. The jemmy! It’s well concealed –jammed up his t-shirt and down his socks – which goes a long way to explaining the funny walking.
“
Brilliant!
” I hiss back. “Why have you brought it here? How did you get down all the stairs?”
“It took a while,” he confesses. “But Hector thought it would be better to hide it by the fence – so we’re quicker tomorrow.”
“Good plan.”
“You all right, son?” Mrs Clarke from our flats has appeared, shopping bag over her arm. She’s looking at Skooshie with concern. “I saw you coming down the stairs there. Is your leg really sore?”
“He was just practising, Mrs Clarke,” I say. “We’re competing in a three-legged race and he’s so keen,
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