Read Online The River Flows On by Maggie Craig - Free Book Online Page A

All right, Kate?’
    They took a tram along to Clydebank and saw a cowboy picture. Of that much Kate was aware. She couldn’t have told anybody what the story was, or even who the stars were. When they came out of the cinema, Robbie said one word. ‘Home?’
    Kate shook the chestnut-brown waves of her hair. ‘No. Not yet. Can we - can we walk a bit?’
    ‘Of course we can. There’s no rush.’
    Kate managed a small smile. ‘You’re looking after me well. You and your mother both.’
    Robbie shrugged.
    ‘You know,’ Kate went on. ‘Where I was this afternoon - at the Art School and the tearoom I mean-‘ She paused, lifted her hand to indicate Dumbarton Road. ‘Well, it’s only up in Glasgow, no more than a few miles away, but in another way it might as well be on the moon. I’m never going to get there. It’s not for the likes of us, that’s the trouble, only you keep hoping and hoping that it might be.’
    Robbie had fallen silent by her side, his eyes downcast, listening to what she was saying.
    ‘Not for the likes of us,’ she repeated softly.
    He looked up then, his expression fierce. ‘You’re not to say that, Kate. I won’t have you saying that. There’s got to be a way we can get you there, some way you can stay on at school.’
    ‘Oh, Robbie,’ said Kate, angry with him, herself and the whole world. ‘You know I can’t stay on at school after what happened this afternoon. I’ve got to get a job. You heard her. She’s always on about it. Thinks I’ve stayed on far too long already. And she’s right, I suppose. With my father laid off again, someone’ll have to start bringing some money into the house. There’s only me as can do it.’ To her horror, her eyes filled with tears. She turned her head away quickly, but not quickly enough.
    ‘Och, Kate,’ Robbie said, running an angry hand through his already tousled locks. ‘Och, Kate,’ he repeated. He was frowning. ‘Come on, let’s get the tram along a couple of stops and go for a walk by the river.’
    The river. Her refuge. Unchanging and yet always changing. Today it was dark as ink, gliding peacefully in the evening sun to the open sea. The sky was impossibly blue, the clouds white and fluffy.
    ‘You wouldn’t think it was near nine o’clock, would you?’
    Apart from that one comment, Robbie walked tall and silent beside her. She was grateful for that. He didn’t try to offer empty words of comfort. She said as much to him. He stopped dead beside her, twisting his flat cap in his hands and stared at her, his eyes very clear beneath angry black brows. She took an involuntary step backwards.
    ‘Christ!’ he said explosively. ‘Not offer you comfort! And you’re grateful to me for that! Jesus Christ, Kathleen Cameron!’
    She stared at him. This was a new Robbie, one whose eyes flashed with anger and frustration; one who squared his shoulders and tossed his head back, glaring at her; not a boy any more, but a man. It gave her a funny feeling inside, one she couldn’t explain. One she didn’t want to explain.
    He quietened. ‘I’m sorry for taking the Lord’s name in vain,’ he said stiffly.
    ‘Robbie?’ She reached out a hand to him.
    ‘Come on,’ he said, moving away from her. ‘I think I can just about afford to buy you an ice cream at Pelosi’s. Are you coming?’
    ‘Robbie?’ she said again. She caught him up and laid a hand on his arm, her fingers curving round his elbow. He stopped but didn’t look at her. The wind off the river lifted his dark hair.
    ‘Promise me something.’
    ‘What?’ His voice had a raw edge to it.
    ‘That you’ll get out of here. That you’ll go to sea. Make something of yourself.’ She grimaced, remembering when she had last heard that phrase used.
    He turned to look at her, his expression softening.
    ‘Och, Kate, maybe it’s just a dream. A wee boy’s dream. Wanting to have an adventure.’ His mouth curved in a self-deprecating smile. ‘Wanting to set sail for Treasure