Crow Boy Read Online Free PDF

painted face and very few teeth. Like her, the apples and pears piled up on her stall looked well past their best.
    â€˜Missie Grierson says you should never trust a Sassenach ,’ said Morag, brightly. ‘She says as how they’re all thieves and rascals.’
    â€˜Not me,’ Tom assured her. ‘And what does this Missie Grierson know about it anyway?’
    â€˜Plenty,’ Morag assured him. ‘She’s the wisest person on the Close. When a woman’s due to have a bairn, she’s the first one they come looking for. Missie Grierson says if she’d been around when I was born, then maybe my mother would still be here to look after me.’
    â€˜Your mother?’ Tom didn’t quite understand what she was saying. ‘Why, where is your mother?’ he asked.
    â€˜In heaven, with the angels, silly. When I came into the world, she had to leave. Missie Grierson says the angels wanted her because she was so pretty.’ Her pale face grew very serious. ‘I spoke to an old woman who was there that night. She said there was a lot of blood.’ She seemed to dismiss the idea. ‘But Missie Grierson took me in and looked after me and now I work at the orphanage.’ She made a smile that was a little too forced. ‘She’s been very kind.’
    â€˜You work ?’ Tom stared at her. ‘But . . . you can’t be more than, what? Ten or twelve? Shouldn’t you be in school?’
    â€˜Oh aye, and I should be the Queen of Scotland, while I’m at it.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘So what happened to your parents?’ she asked unexpectedly.
    â€˜Er . . . they split up,’ said Tom. ‘Dad stayed back in Manchester and Mum . . . well, she moved up here to Edinburgh.’
    â€˜So you’re not really an orphan at all!’ cried Morag, sounding outraged.
    â€˜I kind of am,’ he insisted. ‘And anyway, I’m . . . lost.’
    â€˜Well, I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ Morag warned him. ‘Missie Grierson is not one to be . . . oh!’
    Morag had suddenly spotted something up ahead and instinctively she stepped to the side of the street, grabbing Tom’s sleeve and pulling him with her. He glanced down at her and saw that she was averting her eyes from whatever she had seen. He looked along the street and felt a shock go through him. A figure was striding towards them, a man dressed in an outlandish but strangely familiar costume. His leather cloak billowed out behind him and his weird goggle eyes, set either side of the long, curved beak, stared at the world like those of some alien being. In one gloved hand he carried a long stick and Tom saw that he was using it to prod and push people out of his way, as though they were no more than cattle. His heavy boots rang out on the cobbles.
    As the man moved past, his head turned to look in Tom’s direction and Tom felt his blood run cold as those hideous goggle-eyes came to rest on him. It was only for an instant, but Tom imagined that he could feel their gaze burning into him, looking deep within him as if to capture his innermost secrets. Then the boots rang on stone again and the cloaked figure swept past and continued on his way.
    Morag seemed to remember to breathe. She stepped back to the middle of the path and continued walking. Tom had to run a couple of steps to catch her up.
    â€˜That was Doctor Rae, wasn’t it?’ he said.
    She nodded but seemed reluctant to speak.
    â€˜The Plague Doctor?’ insisted Tom.
    Again she nodded but kept her gaze on the way ahead as though she didn’t want to encourage him.
    â€˜Amazing,’ he murmured.
    Morag glanced up at him. ‘What is?’ she asked.
    â€˜I saw him before. Well, not him, really, but a waxwork that was meant to be him. You know, a waxwork?’ Again, that blank look. ‘It’s kind of like a pretend person,’ he explained. ‘Anyway, he looke d just the