Read Online The Shade of Hettie Daynes by Robert Swindells - Free Book Online Page A

like a bunch of people had squelched through the goo. He could go back to the fire and report all quiet. He might even catch the fireworks, but tomorrow was Thursday. Thursdays, his dad had lunch at The Feathers. What if he took it into his head to check out the res? He was daft enough. He’d see the prints. He’d know Carl must’ve seen them too. Life at home would be even more dodgy than usual.
    Muttering to himself, he sat down and unlaced his trainers. He’d roll up his jeans and go barefoot with the Nikes round his neck. ‘And I wouldn’t be you whoever you are, when I catch up with you,’ he hissed.
    Rocket flashes showed Carl that nobody was in front of him. He rounded the fence, scrambled up the bank and tried wiping his feet on grass. This didn’t work. His socks would be plastered with stinky gloop.
Not my fault
, he thought.
Dad’s fault for being a screwed-up nutcase
.
    With the Nikes back on, he started along the footpath.
    He was pretty sure the intruders were long gone by now, and that was fine – he didn’t fancy tackling a bunch of kids without backup. But he wasn’t going to let his dad accuse him of not doing a thorough job.
I tracked ’em
, he’d say,
made sure they’d left
.
    They hadn’t though, had they? He stopped, screwed up his eyes.
Somebody’s out there, by the mill, and he’s by himself
. He smiled.
Boy, is he going to pay for the hassle he’s put me through
.
    At that moment, a brilliant flash lit the sky and Carl saw his intended target clearly. She was standing two metres above the mud, on nothing more solid than air.

FORTY
    ‘WELL
THAT
WAS a big waste of time,’ grumbled Harry, staring moodily at the bonfire.
    ‘Yes it was,’ agreed his sister, examining her shoes in the firelight. ‘And look at the state of these trainers. Mum’ll go mad.’
    ‘Don’t be such miseries,’ said Alison. ‘We’re here before your mum,
and
we haven’t missed the fireworks. That’s what matters.’
    ‘ ’S all right for
you
,’ snarled Bethan. ‘Your mum won’t even look at your shoes, and if she does she won’t give a stuff. You’re lucky.’
    ‘We’re
all
lucky,’ put in Rob. ‘Carl’s not here.’
    Harry’s eyes searched the crowd. ‘No he isn’t, is he? His dad is, and both cave trolls, but not his great pink self.’
    ‘Probably drowning some kittens,’ growled Rob, ‘or torturing a robin. You know how he likes a laugh.’
    ‘Ah,
there
you are!’ Christa approached, smiling. ‘Am I in time for the fireworks?’
    Bethan nodded. ‘Yes, Mum, Councillor Hopwood’s getting the stewards together, they’re about to start.’
    It was a brilliant display, same as every year. The village traders clubbed together to buy the fireworks and no expense was spared. It was the one occasion when all the people of Wilton came together, and it was safer than having kids messing with fireworks of their own.
    The show had reached its usual climax – salvo after salvo of large costly rockets whooshing into the sky trailing clouds of glory, when Harry spotted Carl Hopwood. He was walking through the crowd like a zombie, staring straight ahead as if nothing at all was happening above. As Harry watched, the lad approached his father, tugged at his sleeve to get his attention and spoke, gesturing back the way he’d come. To Harry’s horror , the councillor shook his son off and fetched him a terrific clout across the side of the head, knocking him to the ground.

FORTY-ONE
    ‘WHAT’S HAPPENED?’ ASKED Christa, glancing to where a knot of men stood looking at something on the ground. The last shoal of stars had blinked out, leaving their green phantoms in front of her eyes. ‘Has somebody been hurt?’
    Harry nodded. ‘Yes, but not by a firework.’
    ‘What, then? I was watching the rockets.’
    ‘Everybody was. I bet I’m the only one who saw.’
    ‘Saw
what
, love?’
    ‘The councillor hit Carl, really hard. He fell down, they’re all gawping at him.’
    As he spoke