Matty Doolin Read Online Free PDF Page B

‘You’ll have to give us some lessons in cookery afore we go to camp, Mrs Doolin.’
    ‘What’s this?’ Mrs Doolin put down her knife and fork, then, turning on Matty, cried, ‘Now, our Matty, I told you that was finished.’
    ‘Aw, Mam.’ Matty lowered his head.
    ‘Don’t aw Mam me. You said you wouldn’t go with the school camp.’
    ‘And I’m not.’
    ‘Well then, don’t let’s bring all that up again. You’re not going camping on your own. Now we’ve had enough for one day since you’ve come in. I told you the only way you could go was if you went with the school camp, or the youth club, and have someone with sense to see to things. And that’s that.’
    ‘But, Mam! I’m fifteen and if I haven’t got sense now, I . . . ’
    ‘Now look here, Matty, you be quiet. I’m having no more of it. I’m telling you.’ His mother’s finger was wagging in his face, and Matty looked away from it towards his father. And now his father said, ‘Your mother’s right. You can go campin’ if you’ve got somebody to supervise things, but not on those fells by yourself.’
    ‘But I’ll not be by myself; there’s Joe here’ – Matty thumbed towards his friend – ‘and Willie Styles. I’ve told you, Willie’s been camping on his own afore.’
    ‘Not miles away in the Lake District on those lonely fells. And Willie Styles hasn’t the sense he was born with, he’s nothing but talk. Oh, I wish you hadn’t seen those fells; you’ve never been the same since.’
    ‘Your mother’s right,’ put in Mr Doolin harshly. ‘Since Jim Tollet took us for that ride that Sunday you’ve never been the same, and I say with her again, there’s no camping on your own. You’ve just got to look at the papers and see what happens to youngsters when they go acting like men, and nobody to say them nay . . . Get stuck up on a mountain and break their necks tryin’ to get down, and endanger other folks in helpin’ them.’
    ‘Aw, Dad.’ Matty made a deep bow with his head, and the action seemed to infuriate Mr Doolin, for he thrust out his arm and grabbed his son. And when Matty’s body tensed and his face darkened Mrs Doolin, slapping at her husband’s arm, cried, ‘That’s enough of that. It doesn’t warrant a row.’ Again she slapped at her husband’s arm, harder this time, and Mr Doolin, drawing in a deep breath, released his hold, saying, ‘You’ll go too far one of these days, me lad.’
    It was at this point that a voice from the yard came to them, calling, ‘Matty, Matty, are you there?’
    ‘That’s Willie,’ put in Joe in a very small voice, looking towards Matty. But before Matty could reply or move towards the scullery, his mother exclaimed, ‘Oh, is it? Well, I’ll see Mr Willie. We might as well get this cleared up once an’ for all.’
    ‘Aw, Mam, leave it be; I’ll tell him.’ Matty’s voice was trembling slightly.
    ‘I’ve told you to tell him afore, me lad, and if you’d done so he wouldn’t be round here the night . . . not on his club night, and we wouldn’t have had these ructions.’
    On this, Mrs Doolin marched to the door, but the next moment returned to the kitchen, standing aside to allow Willie Styles to enter the room . . .
    Willie was Matty’s senior by three months. He was as tall as Matty but without his sturdiness, being very thin with a long, lugubrious face. Nothing about Willie inspired confidence, or gave evidence of stability. He had the nervous habit of twitching his nose, very much like that of a rabbit. Moreover, when he got excited he stammered. Willie’s manner and conversation were naturally funny, and he played on this.
    ‘Evenin’, Mr Doolin.’ Willie nodded his long head at Matty’s father, and did not seem in the least disconcerted when Mr Doolin ignored the greeting.
    ‘Hello, there, Joe.’ Willie nodded to Joe, and Joe, grinning, nodded back.
    ‘Now you can stop all this small chit-chat, Willie,’ said Mrs Doolin. ‘Up to a few weeks