Matty Doolin Read Online Free PDF Page A

sometimes he had a sort of guilty feeling when he wanted to get away from her. He said now, as if speaking to an equal, ‘I’ve no need to tell you, you can see what happened. I’ve had a fight.’
    He could see that his mother was taken aback by his direct approach. She would likely tell his father later that he was beyond coping with, but now she said, ‘Get it off.’ She made an impatient grab at the coat. ‘Fighting at your age.’
    ‘Well, Bill Cooper took the mickey out of me about me name, and Joe’s.’
    ‘I’d have thought you’d have been past that, fighting about your name. There was a rhyme when I was a bairn and it still holds good:
     
‘Sticks and stones will break me bones,
But calling will not hurt me.
    ‘Get your old coat on,’ she added, ‘and I’ll fix this when your dad’s in bed, because if he sees it it’ll be more than sticks and stones you’ll get, it’ll be the back of his hand.’
    ‘Let him try it.’ Matty turned away, his head wagging.
    ‘Now, now, now,’ Mrs Doolin admonished in a different tone, a stern, brook-no-backchat tone. ‘We’ll have none of that. As long as you’re here you’ll do as your father says. You understand? And if I was you, instead of talking big I would start a long farewell to that thing there.’ She pointed disdainfully down at Nelson. ‘Because it’s going. Whether you take it or I do, it’s going. No wonder its last owners threw it out. Likely they were all driven mad and taken to the asylum.’
    As Mrs Doolin left the room the two boys looked at each other. Then Matty, dropping slowly down onto the hearthrug, put his hand on Nelson’s head, and as the dog nuzzled against him there came into his body a feeling so sad, so painful, that he understood in this moment why girls and women cried.
    ‘What you goin’ to do?’ Joe pushed his face close to Matty’s, and Matty, shaking his head, made no answer.
    ‘I say, what about us going round houses like, and askin’ them if they want a dog?’ With this inspiration Joe’s eyes widened, and, as Matty looked at him he didn’t say ‘Aw, don’t be daft,’ for he realised that Joe had thought of something. It was true it would still mean that he would lose Nelson, but it wouldn’t be as final as if he were put to sleep. And there was bound to be somebody somewhere like himself who loved animals. On average, there was just bound to be. It was finding them. Well, he’d have a try. His face lightened a little as he whispered, ‘Good idea.’
    Joe squared his narrow shoulders, pursed his lips into a whistle, then, bending down to Matty, hissed, ‘Can you put the telly on?’
    Matty wriggled forward and turned on the television; then flopping down again, he pulled Nelson across his knees and kept up a scratching movement with his fingers behind the dog’s ear, while Joe, at the other end of Nelson, scratched his rump. And Nelson wondered why life could not be like this all the time.
    It was half an hour later and the boys were still sitting on the hearthrug in the kitchen when Mr Doolin arrived home. His approach had been heralded with the yard door banging, then the kitchen door banging, followed by a pair of heavy boots, one after the other, being thrown onto the stone floor of the scullery. And now his voice was calling, ‘Where’s me slippers?’
    At this point Mrs Doolin entered the kitchen from the hallway, carrying in her hand a pair of tartan patterned cloth slippers. It was significant that she held them almost at arm’s length from her, and more significant still that she cast a glance towards Matty as she crossed the room. And the glance brought Matty’s head hanging. It also tightened his hold on Nelson.
    The television cut off the muted conversation coming from the scullery, and Matty, still keeping his hold on Nelson, reached out and turned down the volume. But even now the conversation was no more audible, and Matty and Joe exchanged glances, until, following a brief