No Friend of Mine Read Online Free PDF Page A

like.”
    Lennie wished they could go back to the woods, but it seemed rude to say so. He followed Ralph down the stairs, and as they reached the bottom the front door opened and a woman came in.
    Ralph’s mother.
    Lennie knew at once that it was her. The grey tweed coat, heavy and expensive-looking; the quick, appraising glance at Lennie. He tensed. She wouldn’t want him here; he’d be in trouble now.
    But Mrs Wilding merely took off her hat and exclaimed, “Goodness, what a change in the weather!”
    She moved towards them, pulling leather gloves from her smooth white hands. “And who’s your friend, Ralph?”
    None of Mrs Martin’s coldness. If she disapproved, she hid it.
    “Hello, Lennie,” she said. Her smile was like Ralph’s.
    And it was only as she moved to go upstairs and Ralph and Lennie headed for the scullery, that Lennie, glancing back, saw her catch Ralph’s eye and raise her eyebrows.

CHAPTER SIX
    “Thought I’d take a look at the birds today,” Dad said the next morning. “Check the moult. Start thinking about culling and pairing. Do you want to help, Lennie?”
    Lennie didn’t know what to say. Mary was the one who usually helped Dad. She’d always been interested; “pigeon-mad”, Mum would say. And no doubt as soon as Mary got home this afternoon she’d join Lennie and Dad in the loft. He ought to jump at the chance. But—
    “I’m going out,” he said. “I promised this friend.”
    “Who’s that, then?”
    To Lennie’s relief, Dad seemed pleased, not offended; perhaps he had guessed that Lennie didn’t often have friends to meet.
    “I met him down the woods. His name’s Ralph. He doesn’t go to our school.”
    “Oh?” Dad looked up. “C. of., is he?”
    Lennie knew Dad was thinking of Victoria Road School, where the churchgoers’ children went. He didn’t feel able to explain about – where was it? – Cheltenham. Not yet. When he asked for a pigeon he’d have to; and Ralph had reminded him again yesterday; but still he put it off.
    “He’s clever,” said Lennie. “Knows a lot of things, like.” He thought of the Latin swear words Ralph had taught him.
    Dad seemed pleased. “Well, if you get on together. Some of the lads round here.” He shook his head. Dad was clever, read books, studied politics, could out-talk anyone at political meetings. The bosses hated him. “It’s education.” He began wheezing. “Education’s our weapon against the ruling classes, Lennie.” He pointed to the stack of leaflets on the dresser. “That little lot’ll get old Wilding’s back up.”
    Lennie felt a small shock explode in his mind.
    Wilding. George Wilding. The villain. Owner of Springhill, Old Hall, and several other pits in the area. George Wilding, Unionbasher, stinking rich, with a car, and a big house – and probably fancy chimney-pots and a tennis court too.
    It couldn’t be. George Wilding was the enemy. He was mean, but Ralph—
    He said, aloud, “Ralph’s always giving me things. He gave me all his old comics. He gets
The Dandy
and
The Beano
.”
    “Does he? Lucky lad.”
    Dad’s attention went back to the pigeons. He started talking about last summer’s races, and which birds he thought he’d pair up for next season. Lennie half listened. At the back of his mind all the time was the thought: Ralph can’t be George Wilding’s son. He
can’t
be.
    His mind brimmed with questions as he ran down Love Lane and into the woods. He had to ask Ralph at once, had to find out if it was true.
    But Ralph wasn’t there.
    Lennie felt foreboding. Ralph had always been the first to arrive. Still, it was early. He gathered sticks for a fire, walked several times out of sight of the cottage and back again, each time hoping to find Ralph there on his return, each time disappointed.
    He decided to light the fire, but the wood was damp and it wouldn’t catch. He got out his paper and pencils and tried to invent some more code symbols, but he was too restless. He put