saying to young Davidde now,’ said Mr Leighton, ‘we haven’t seen much of him lately.’
‘I’m not surprised, Charlie,’ said his dad. ‘He’s been too busy practising.’
‘Practising?’
‘Yeah, practising.’
‘Practising? For what?’
‘For the big race this Friday.’
‘What big race this Friday?’
‘Down the Rec. On his bike.’
Davidde heard Mr Leighton’s binoculars smash on the wooden floor.
‘You’ll get a good view from here.’
Not with smashed binoculars he wouldn’t.
He pointed at Davidde.
‘You … how … since when … why?’ spluttered Mr Leighton.
‘Come on, Charlie,’ said Ralph. ‘He’s young, he’s got a bike and he’s having fun. He’s not hurting anyone…’
‘BUT IT’S AGAINST THE LAW! HE’S TOO YOUNG! HE’S NOT STUPID LIKE THE REST OF THEM! HE’S NOT STUPID LIKE…’
He stopped.
Ralph was much closer to Mr Leighton now. Davidde saw him draw up close to Mr Leighton’s face, looking angry and talking quietly.
‘No, go on. What were you saying?’
Mr Leighton looked away. Davidde was worried his father was going to hit Mr Leighton.
‘Not stupid like I was, is it? Was that what you were going to say?’
Mr Leighton squirmed where he stood, but didn’t back down completely. ‘Having fun is he? Having fun. Like Stuart Davies was having fun.’
Ralph drew back as if he been punched. He seemed to lose a foot in height.
‘Stuart Davies … Stuart Dav … now he was stupid … he was stupid…’
Ralph backed away from Mr Leighton’s door, pointing at Mr Leighton as if he was threatening him, but visibly upset as he moved backwards towards his own house.
‘He was stupid. He was definitely stupid. But he was definitely having fun.’
Obviously, Davidde had to know who Stuart Davies was. Ralph was only a few steps ahead of his son, but when Davidde got into the kitchen he had a can of cider in front of him and he was sucking furiously on a cigarette.
‘Let me tell you about Stuart Davies,’ said Ralphquietly, looking into the distance through the kitchen window. ‘Stuart Davies was mad. I know people say that about people who are a bit funny, or people who act a bit dull to get attention, or people with red hair (and he did have red hair, by the way), but Stuart was seriously mad. We were in the same year in school, and I used to sit by him. Well, I did while he was still cleaning his teeth.’
‘Why did he stop washing his teeth, Dad?’
‘We had a race down the Rec one day, and it was on a day when he’d forgotten to clean his teeth. We’d been making fun of him all day, then we had a race and he won. I beat him the next night, and he’d remembered to clean them that day. The next time he had a race, he didn’t clean his teeth, and guess what happened?’
‘He won?’
‘Correct, son. He became convinced that cleaning his teeth took away his scrambling skills. He was like that Samsung from the bible, only with furry orange teeth instead of hair. That’s when I had to stop sitting by him. I was starting to feel sick all the time in lessons.’
‘So were you best friends?’
‘Oh aye, we did everything together. Riding bikes, seeing girls, fighting with boys from up the Park. Everything, mun. But he was a little bit older, a littler bit bigger and usually a little bit quicker to do things than me.’
‘So what happened to him?’
‘The more he won, the more sure he was that he couldn’t lose. He began to think that he was invincible. He started doing dull things, stupid things…’
‘Like what, Dad?’
‘Stunts, long jumps, stuff like that. We’d get all these younger boys to lie in a line and he’d set up a ramp and fly over them.’ His voice became hoarse. ‘It was obvious someone was going to get hurt…’
‘Go on, Dad…’
‘We were going for a new record, but we couldn’t find enough boys. I mean, we had seven volunteers but we needed ten. We found another three but they didn’t want to do it
‘I’m not surprised, Charlie,’ said his dad. ‘He’s been too busy practising.’
‘Practising?’
‘Yeah, practising.’
‘Practising? For what?’
‘For the big race this Friday.’
‘What big race this Friday?’
‘Down the Rec. On his bike.’
Davidde heard Mr Leighton’s binoculars smash on the wooden floor.
‘You’ll get a good view from here.’
Not with smashed binoculars he wouldn’t.
He pointed at Davidde.
‘You … how … since when … why?’ spluttered Mr Leighton.
‘Come on, Charlie,’ said Ralph. ‘He’s young, he’s got a bike and he’s having fun. He’s not hurting anyone…’
‘BUT IT’S AGAINST THE LAW! HE’S TOO YOUNG! HE’S NOT STUPID LIKE THE REST OF THEM! HE’S NOT STUPID LIKE…’
He stopped.
Ralph was much closer to Mr Leighton now. Davidde saw him draw up close to Mr Leighton’s face, looking angry and talking quietly.
‘No, go on. What were you saying?’
Mr Leighton looked away. Davidde was worried his father was going to hit Mr Leighton.
‘Not stupid like I was, is it? Was that what you were going to say?’
Mr Leighton squirmed where he stood, but didn’t back down completely. ‘Having fun is he? Having fun. Like Stuart Davies was having fun.’
Ralph drew back as if he been punched. He seemed to lose a foot in height.
‘Stuart Davies … Stuart Dav … now he was stupid … he was stupid…’
Ralph backed away from Mr Leighton’s door, pointing at Mr Leighton as if he was threatening him, but visibly upset as he moved backwards towards his own house.
‘He was stupid. He was definitely stupid. But he was definitely having fun.’
Obviously, Davidde had to know who Stuart Davies was. Ralph was only a few steps ahead of his son, but when Davidde got into the kitchen he had a can of cider in front of him and he was sucking furiously on a cigarette.
‘Let me tell you about Stuart Davies,’ said Ralphquietly, looking into the distance through the kitchen window. ‘Stuart Davies was mad. I know people say that about people who are a bit funny, or people who act a bit dull to get attention, or people with red hair (and he did have red hair, by the way), but Stuart was seriously mad. We were in the same year in school, and I used to sit by him. Well, I did while he was still cleaning his teeth.’
‘Why did he stop washing his teeth, Dad?’
‘We had a race down the Rec one day, and it was on a day when he’d forgotten to clean his teeth. We’d been making fun of him all day, then we had a race and he won. I beat him the next night, and he’d remembered to clean them that day. The next time he had a race, he didn’t clean his teeth, and guess what happened?’
‘He won?’
‘Correct, son. He became convinced that cleaning his teeth took away his scrambling skills. He was like that Samsung from the bible, only with furry orange teeth instead of hair. That’s when I had to stop sitting by him. I was starting to feel sick all the time in lessons.’
‘So were you best friends?’
‘Oh aye, we did everything together. Riding bikes, seeing girls, fighting with boys from up the Park. Everything, mun. But he was a little bit older, a littler bit bigger and usually a little bit quicker to do things than me.’
‘So what happened to him?’
‘The more he won, the more sure he was that he couldn’t lose. He began to think that he was invincible. He started doing dull things, stupid things…’
‘Like what, Dad?’
‘Stunts, long jumps, stuff like that. We’d get all these younger boys to lie in a line and he’d set up a ramp and fly over them.’ His voice became hoarse. ‘It was obvious someone was going to get hurt…’
‘Go on, Dad…’
‘We were going for a new record, but we couldn’t find enough boys. I mean, we had seven volunteers but we needed ten. We found another three but they didn’t want to do it
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