No Friend of Mine Read Online Free PDF Page B

Phyl’s married and out of this place the better. The house is bursting at the seams.”
    Phyl was at the foot of the stairs now, yelling abuse at her sister. Mary yelled back.
    A loud knocking made everyone jump.
    Mum clutched at her heart. “Lord, is that the front door? Who’d come knocking at the front door, for heaven’s sake?”
    The front door was never used, being blocked by a table and a thick curtain to keep out draughts. Everyone used the back door, and nobody knocked. The neighbours called, “Coo-ee!” and the better sort – the doctor or the minister – just walked in.
    Lennie ran to the front room window and looked out. On the doorstep stood Ralph. Lennie felt instantly alive again. He banged on the window, pointing towards the passage.
    “It’s my friend!” he exclaimed, bounding across the kitchen and out of the back door.
    He met Ralph halfway down the passage. Their voices rang under the brick arch. Ralph said, “I’m going back to school today. I had to come. I’ve been with my father—”
    “Mrs Martin told me,” said Lennie.
    “Two whole days at Old Hall, in the offices,” said Ralph. “Absolutely dire. I brought you this.”
    He handed Lennie the King Arthur book.
    Lennie stepped back. “I can’t!”
    “Just to borrow,” said Ralph. “It’ll only sit in my room till Christmas. Go on.”
    Lennie took it. He looked around. Should he ask Ralph in? Mum would fuss. She’d show Ralph into the front room. It would be awful.
    He gestured to the back garden, where Dad was already pottering in the loft.
    “The pigeons?” said Ralph. “Did you ask your father?”
    “Not yet,” confessed Lennie. He felt a spurt of anger. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, did I? You never left a message.”
    “I couldn’t. He took me off so early. Can we ask your father now?”
    “All right,” said Lennie. “Dad!” he called. “Here’s my friend – Ralph.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Ralph stepped forward and held out his hand. “Good morning, Mr Dyer.”
    He’s just like an adult, Lennie thought, impressed. Dad, by contrast, seemed unusually awkward. He wiped his hand on his trousers before taking Ralph’s.
    “Pleased to meet you, Ralph.”
    “Can Ralph see the pigeons?” Lennie asked.
    “Yes. Yes, of course,” said Dad.
    He led the way into the loft.
    Ralph gazed around at the tiers of cooing pigeons.
    “I don’t suppose you’ve been in a pigeon loft before, young man?” Dad asked. His voice sounded odd, Lennie thought, falsely jocular; he had never seen his father so ill at ease.
    “No, I haven’t.” Ralph began to ask questions: how far the birds flew, what they ate, what they were called, how the race system worked. Soon Dad had relaxed and began talking animatedly. He let Ralph hold a pigeon, showing him how to contain its fluttering. Lennie was glad he hadn’t asked Dad before about lending one to Ralph. He suspected that Dad wouldn’t have liked the idea. But now Ralph’s enthusiasm would surely win him over.
    Ralph had already caught Lennie’s eye a couple of times.
    “Dad,” said Lennie, “Ralph’s going back to school this morning, over Cheltenham way. Could he take a pigeon with him and send it back?”
    “Cheltenham?” said Dad. He paused; looked at Ralph. Ralph smiled eagerly.
    “Oh, no,” said Dad. “No, I’m afraid not. These are racing pigeons; worth a bit of money. Can’t just send odd ones off on a whim.” He frowned at Lennie. “You should know that.”
    “Just this once,” pleaded Lennie. He couldn’t explain to Dad how important it felt. “They’re not training now. It wouldn’t hurt.”
    “Some haven’t finished moulting.”
    “Only one or two.” Lennie was glad he’d helped out in the loft the other day. “There’s Blue Cloud. She’s in good feather.”
    Dad sighed. “Well – if you’re careful of her, Ralph…”
    “Oh, I would be!” exclaimed Ralph. “And I’d send her straight back. I wouldn’t let the masters see her.