away. The younger woman thought he looked uneasy and nervous.
‘Get hold of his hand,’ said Jon calmly. Bobby did.
‘Walton Lane’s in that direction,’ said the younger woman, pointing. James looked up, to the woman, and to Jon.
‘Are you all right, son?’ the woman asked, but James did not respond.
‘Which is the way?’ said Jon, looking over the road to St Mary’s Church. ‘Did you say it was over this way?’
The other woman had been talking away to her dog. ‘Don’t go near him,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t like children.’
‘The best way,’ said the younger woman, ‘is to go across, behind Walton Church.’ That was Walton Village.
‘No, it’s too dark that way,’ said the woman with the dog. She told them to go down County Road and left along Church Road West.
The three boys turned to go back down the walkways under the flyover. The younger woman called them to stop, because she didn’t think it was safe, young boys down there in the dark. She asked the other woman to watch her daughter and her shopping while she saw the boys across the road. The woman said she couldn’t, because her dog didn’t like children.
‘Which way again, missus?’ said Jon.
‘The Village,’ said the younger woman, pointing to the church.
‘Church Road, it’s lighter,’ said the woman with the dog.
The boys crossed to the central reservation.
‘Are you sure you know the way?’ shouted the younger woman.
Jon turned round, and pointed down County Road. ‘I’ll go that way, missus.’
‘Our Ken will know,’ said Bobby, who did not have a brother called Ken, loudly to Jon.
When they had reached the far side of the road the younger woman was reassured. She turned to walk under the flyover, while the woman with the dog stood watching the boys. ‘They’re by the bus stop,’ she called after the younger woman, who had lost sight of the boys.
It was just after five when Jon and Bobby walked into the County DIY shop on County Road. They had passed Church Road West and gonefurther down, before crossing back to the other side of County Road. The shop was small and cluttered, like a traditional ironmongers. The sign outside offered ‘Glass, Glazing, Patio Doors’ and ‘Window Frames Fitted’. Jon was still holding James’s hand as they went in. The owner was behind the counter, immediately alert. He’d been losing stock to boys this age over recent weeks, so he was keeping an eye on these two.
His attention was caught by James, who seemed slightly distressed. The owner attributed this to the graze on the side of his forehead, which was obviously fresh because it was still moist, and the red mark on his right cheek. Bobby stepped forward and asked if the shop sold some particular item. It might have been something daft like, ‘Do you sell fishy knickers?’ which was one of Bobby’s lines when he was skitting. The shop didn’t sell whatever it was he asked for.
‘D’you know where there’s a sweet shop? We want to buy some sweets for our brother.’
‘There’s one round the corner, and one over the road.’
*
They left the DIY shop, and continued back along County Road to the pet shop, ‘Animate – Pet and Aquatic Centre’, which displays exotic fish in stacks of rectangular tanks, heated and illuminated by brilliant fluorescent tubes. Jon and Bobby were holding James’s hands as they entered the shop, and the assistant soon noticed the graze on James’s forehead.
They walked over to the fish tanks and Bobby let go of James’s hand. They stood looking at the Weather Loach, a sedentary fish which spends most of its time lying motionless at the bottom of the tank.
‘It’s dead,’ said Bobby.
‘It’s not dead, it’s just lying there,’ said the assistant.
But Bobby insisted and finally, thinking he was very cheeky, the assistant prodded the Weather Loach to life, to prove her point.
Her colleague came out from the storeroom, and thought it strange that Jon kept hold of
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