Season of Hate Read Online Free PDF

the old dentist's, now Dad's new surgery. It was good to see on the way all the old familiar shops again. As we passed, some of the owners would smile and wave and we'd wave back. I ran my fingers over the letters of his brass doctor's sign, DR. H. McNALLY GENERAL PRACTITIONER , that he'd attached to the wall beside the surgery doorway.
    We heard him unpacking tea chests in the back room. Doug just went in and owned up straight away like we'd practised, trying to emphasise we had no choice.
    "What have I told you two about fighting?" We both shrugged our shoulders.
    "Walk away," Doug mumbled, his chin nearly touching his chest as he tugged at the front of his shorts.
    "You know how many men I've had to patch up because they've been fighting? Look at me when I'm talking to you. So bashed up and swollen, even their own mothers couldn't recognise them. Is that how you want to end up?"
    "No sir. It's just that he start –" Doug began to explain.
    "It doesn't matter who started it or what they said, you walk away and be the better man. Now if this ever happens again, God forbid, what are you two going to do?"
    "Walk away," we both mumbled begrudgingly.
    "You want to lift your heads and say that so I can hear you?"
    "Walk away," we called out together.
    Dad parted Doug's hair falling over his forehead then got out his little torch and pointed it straight into his eyes, one at a time. As he did, I remember seeing a sort of funny look on Dad's face. His eyes were practically grinning, while a small smile played across the rest of his face for the briefest of moments.
    "No damage, but that's gonna be one hell of a shiner. Now let's go and see about getting you both new uniforms." Dad locked up and led us up the street – an arm around each of our shoulders, to Renshaw's Menswear.
    My uniform was one size smaller than Doug's. We got pullovers as well in the school colours, as the cooler autumn weather was nearly on us. Mr Renshaw was pleased to see Dad, stating that he remembered selling him his first uniform.
    "You know your dad used to be the smartest boy in school. Dux, if I remember. Always studying. No wonder you ended up a GP."
    I felt our chances of Dad just letting us spend our spare time catching tadpoles, or mucking around with Barry and Raymond or even him taking us swimming or fishing like Poppie did, fading fast; replaced with long weekends taken up with extra schoolwork.
    "How's Mrs Renshaw, Sid?"
    "Oh, as well as can be expected. Since you were here last, she's developed a touchy vagina." Within an instant, Mr Renshaw's face went the colour of an overripe tomato as he quickly corrected himself. "I mean a t-touch of angina ." he stuttered. This always happened when he got flustered. Dad fought a smile.
    "I'll be opening Monday if she needs to see me about her heart – or anything else. What else is news, Sid?"
    This is what everybody asked of everyone in town – the quickest way the entire district's news got passed on. Little could happen without everyone finding out. Nan used to say there were times she felt she couldn't even sneeze 'without the whole blessed town knowing.' Though there were other times she concluded, 'when I was glad there were people who cared.'
    The favourite spots for picking up all the gossip were at the barber's or the hairdresser's. Most of the news came via Pearl Binslow, who ran the local telephone exchange. She'd pass it on to the redoubtable Gwen Grady. After that, the whole town would know within hours.
    Doug and I wandered around the store, both a little down. I know I was still thinking about our mother a bit and certain he was as well. Not having a mother singled us out from all our other friends who did. It made us different when we wanted desperately to fit in. We couldn't even remember what she looked like. Unlike Poppie and Nan whose wedding photo was on Nan's dresser, Dad didn't have one photo of himself and our mother anywhere, although he still wore his wedding ring.
    Bored,