Read Online The Crossing of Ingo by Helen Dunmore - Free Book Online Page B

change guard as one posse flies out to sea and another flies inland to perch along the ridge of our roof. I wonder what else they have got in their nest now. As if it feels my thoughts, one of the gulls stretches out its neck and screams down derision.
    I could have given your stupid egg to the cat, but I didn’t. You should be grateful,
I tell them in my mind, but I don’t think the gulls can read my thoughts.
    “They can’t be nesting at this time of year,” says Rainbow, puzzled. The biggest gull is staring at her and Treacle with its yellow eyes. Suddenly it looks aside, like a bully pretending to have lost interest when he spots that someone’s not going to be intimidated. He struts along the roof a little way, then flies upward in a wide circle that keeps well clear of us. One by one the other gulls lift off, squawking out their protests, and fly out to sea. For the first time since Granny Carne visited there are no gulls on our roof.
    “I won’t have them on our roof,” says Rainbow as if she has perfect gull control.
    “Don’t you like gulls?” asks Conor.
    “I used to, but they’ve changed. They’ve become really aggressive. I don’t mind them dive-bombing to take food off people because that’s their instinct. They’re scavengers by nature. But the last year or two I’ve seen them attack for nothing. They went for my neighbour’s dog one day – you know, Sky. And she’s tiny, she’s only a Yorkshire terrier. I had to beat them off.” She strokes Treacle’s neck reassuringly.
    “Does Kylie ever get a chance to ride her own pony?” I demand. Rainbow laughs.
    “You know Kylie,” she says. “If she can get someone else to exercise Treacle for her, she will. She likes the idea of having a pony but she doesn’t like the work.”
    I stroke Treacle’s nose while Conor goes in to make tea and rummage through the larder to see if we’ve eaten the last of the last Guilt Cake.
    “Kylie is unbelievably lazy,” I agree. “If I had a pony I’d want to do everything for it.”
    “They’re going to take me on at the stables on Saturdays,” Rainbow says.
    “Which one?”
    “Tregony. It’s mainly mucking out and leading the little ones out on rides. I don’t get paid but I’ll get two hours free riding and I can use the jumps any time I want.”
    “It’ll be good for you to get up on something a bit more exciting than old Treacle,” I say. Rainbow’s a good rider.
    Rainbow pats Treacle protectively. “How can you say that? He’s got the best temperament. You could put a cat up on him and he wouldn’t shy.”
    “And he gallops exactly like his name.”
    “Don’t listen to her, Treacle.” We both laugh. Conor comes out with a clutch of mugs in one hand and a plate of biscuits.
    “No more cake?” I ask.
    “No more cake.” He smiles at Rainbow. “You’re growing your hair.”
    I hadn’t noticed, but he’s right. Rainbow’s bright hair is curling down over her neck now. She blushes a little. “I just felt like it,” she says, looking down at the mug of tea Conor hands her, rather than at him.
    “It’s nice,” says Conor.
    “But where’s Sadie?” asks Rainbow abruptly.
    “She’s gone to stay with Granny Carne for a while,” I answer, not looking at Rainbow.
    “We’ve had a call from family upcountry,” says Conor.
    “Mum’s second cousin,” I put in quickly. “They want us to go up there for half term, and maybe stay on for a week afterwards, because of Mum being away. We’re going to write to our schools for permission to miss the time. But we can’t take Sadie because they live in a flat.”
    Too much information,
I realise as the words gush from my mouth. Second law of lying: don’t put too much icing on the cake. Silence falls, an awkward silence.
    “In Plymouth,” I blurt out.
    Rainbow looks from me to Conor. Her face is puzzled. Her blush returns and deepens. “I didn’t know you had any family in Plymouth,” she says. “Have you been up to stay