Read Online The Runaway Summer by Nina Bawden - Free Book Online Page B

out on his face like stones.
    â€˜They’re coming,’ he gasped. ‘They’re coming along the beach …’
    And when Mary and the boy stood motionless, he took the boy by the shoulders and pushed him into the hut. ‘Get in,’ he said. ‘Behind the door. Hide …’

FIVE
Against the Law …
    S O WHEN THE policemen came, trudging along the beach, all they saw were two children, sitting on the steps of an open hut and sorting out a pile of pretty shells.
    They looked innocent enough. The only odd thing, perhaps, was that they didn’t look up, even when the two men stopped in front of them.
    â€˜Bit old for shells, aren’t you, Simon?’ one of them said. His voice was friendly but his eyes were sharp. He looked, over the children’s heads, into the hut.
    Mary saw Simon’s hand tighten on his knee, and knew he was going to blush. She tried to stop him, concentrating hard and saying, in her mind, Don’t blush, don’t blush, but it was no use. The colour swept up his neck, over his face, and disappeared into his hair. He said, ‘Oh, Mr Peters! I didn’t see you! This is my friend, Mary. I’m just helping her with her shells.
    It sounded so false that Mary despaired. She said, ‘It’s for a Project at school. Life on the Seashore. I have to collect seaweed and shells and things. It’s frightfully boring, and I’m rather behind hand, that’s why Simon’s helping me.’
    She spoke in a lively, natural tone, but without much hope. She was a better liar than Simon—who hadn’t had much practice, by the sound of it—but she doubted if she had been convincing enough to distract attention from that blush. They would have to be imbeciles, or blind! Any minute nowone of them would push them aside and march into the hut, and drag the boy from his hiding place behind the door.
    She sat rigid, not daring to raise her eyes above the middle button of Constable Peters’ waistcoat, waiting for a heavy hand on her shoulder and an angry voice, shouting.
    What she heard, instead, was a chuckle. She looked up and saw that both men were grinning broadly.
    Constable Peters had a red, sweaty face, with small, brown eyes sunk into it, like currants in a bun. He smiled at Mary. ‘This your hut?’
    â€˜My grandfather’s.’
    â€˜Lock it up when you go. Otherwise you might get unwelcome visitors. You’ve not seen anyone, I suppose? No suspicious characters hanging about?’
    â€˜Only you,’ Mary said, which made them laugh. They walked off, laughing and talking to each other.
    When they were out of earshot, Simon said, ‘I can’t help it. It’s having a thin skin. The blood shows. And the more you think about it and try and stop it, the worse it gets.’
    Mary, who had been holding her breath, drew in a deep gulp of air and felt dizzy. ‘I thought they’d be bound to know. Once you started. They couldn’t not notice.’
    â€˜They noticed, all right. They just thought it was something different, that’s all.”
    â€˜What?’
    He gave her a shy look, picked up a small pink and brown shell and began to examine it with great attention.
    Mary jabbed her elbow into his arm and he dropped the shell into the pile at his feet.
    She said, ‘ What did they think?’
    He sighed. ‘They thought it was because I was with you. With a girl. Some people have queer ideas of what’s funny.’
    In the circumstances, Mary thought it was fairly funny herself.
    â€˜They’d laugh on the other side of their faces, if only they knew.’
    She hoped this would cheer him up, but it didn’t seem to. His expression remained glum.
    She said, reproachfully, ‘You wouldn’t rather they’d guessed right, would you?’
    He gave her a brief, scornful glance. ‘I came back, didn’t I?’
    â€˜Yes.’ But this needed an explanation, she