Out of the Ashes Read Online Free PDF Page A

the Angels of Death. So much has happened and all of it so fast and so final. Today began yesterday. Last
night after I’d finished writing my diary, I made a decision. I was lying in my bed at Auntie Liz’s and thinking about Little Josh, and home and Mum and Dad. I just decided I had to go
home, that I had caused this, that I had to be there with them.
    I waited till everyone was in bed and asleep. I left a letter on my pillow explaining everything to Auntie Liz, telling her I was going home. Then I got dressed, packed my things, and crept
downstairs. I ran out of the village, up through the graveyard and on to the footpath – no one would see me if I went that way. I thought I’d find the way home easily – I’d
done it hundreds of times before – but never in the dark. As it turned out, it was a good thing that I lost my way. The footpath should have brought me out on to the road right opposite our
gate, but instead I came out on the road further up. I looked back down the road towards our farm gate and there was a police car parked right across the gateway, and a policeman standing by the
car smoking a cigarette. I waited until he got back in the car, then sprinted across the road and up through Front Field and home.
    The lights were still on in the kitchen. Mum and Dad were sitting there at the table and talking over a cup of tea. I just walked in and told them everything. I told them that it was me
who’d brought back the foot and mouth after I’d been riding on Mr Bailey’s farm. I told them I was staying home no matter what. I don’t know how much they understood of what
I said because I was crying so much. But they under­stood enough. Dad held my hands and told me it was no one’s fault, not mine, not anyone’s. The foot and mouth disease could have
come on the wind, in the smoke, on bird droppings, car tyres – a hundred different ways, he said. And Mum said I shouldn’t have run away like I did, but I knew they were both really
pleased I had and that neither of them blamed me at all. I could tell that from the way they hugged me. It was a strange thing to be suddenly happy in the middle of all this, but I was.
    Today began again this morning. I was up early and went off to feed Little Josh, while Dad did the milking. Mum let all the ewes and lambs out into Front Field. We stood and watched them as they
spread out over the field, the ewes at once busy at their grazing, the lambs springing and skipping, loving their sudden freedom, their last freedom. Neither of us said a word. We didn’t need
to because we were both thinking the same thoughts. Little Josh wouldn’t stay with the others. He followed me home into the kitchen. So I fed him.
    But even when I’d fed him he wanted to stay by me.
    We saw the men in white – the slaughterers and the vets – walking up the farm lane as we finished our breakfast. Dad got up, pulled on his overalls, and went out without a word. Mum
cried when he’d gone. I put my arms around her and tried to comfort her, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry because my mind was on other things and it was racing. I was looking down
at Little Josh lying at my feet, and I was thinking. I was thinking about how I was going to hide him away, so that the men in white would never find him. I didn’t know where I would hide
him, but I knew it had to be done. And it had to be soon, very soon. There wasn’t much time.
    My chance came when Mum got up from the table and said she just couldn’t sit there and let Dad do it on his own, that she had to go with him. The moment she’d gone, I scooped Josh up
into my arms and ran upstairs. I cleared out everything I could from the bottom of my cupboard and laid down some newspaper.
    I sat on my bed and fed him again until he couldn’t drink another drop. I told him that he must be quiet, that he must go to sleep and keep quiet. He seemed happy enough – until I
lifted him in and shut the cupboard door on him. Then he