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schools
because still Rebecca came. They still played together almost every day even if
they never saw one another in the morning. Rebecca usually asked to stay for
dinner as her mother rarely cooked and when she did Rebecca said she could
hardly touch it, so Christopher’s father sometimes let her stay. She would also
ask if she could stay the night but Christopher’s father would never allow that,
so Christopher would walk her down the road until the bush bent around and
Rebecca’s house came into view and run back home looking over his shoulder to
see if her father might have seen him on the road.

     

     
Chapter 5

     
    The letters became their way of
seeing one another, a way that her father would never understand because the
language was their own. They were surrounded by language. By the time
Christopher was 12, he was fluent in German and English and could understand
whole conversations in French and even J√®rriais.   What Rebecca lacked in German she made
up for in French but their language was different from any of them. Gunde de viznay bin lion’s mane reiv, would
mean that they would meet at the Lion’s Mane at 4, the number on the end being
the German but backwards.It was a
language only they knew and, apart from them, only Alexandra knew existed.   By the time they were twelve they had
named all the crags and headlands beaten by the waves in winter and split by
the summer sun. They would arrange to meet there, by the Lion’s Mane, the
Butterfly’s Table or the Angry Horse. When they met they would speak in
gibberish, as if their language was entire, and burst out laughing at the
ridiculous sounds spilling out of each other’s mouths and the puzzled looks of
whomever happened to be there with them, whether that was Alexandra, or Percy
Howard or his brother Tom, or one of the other children that lived nearby.

    Christopher was fifteen when he
arrived home from school with Alexandra and she was there, her head down on the
table, her light brown hair covering her face entirely. Rebecca looked up at
him, her blue eyes twinkling with tears.   She had a large bruise staining her left cheek. Christopher saw his
father sitting beside her at the kitchen table, his face taut from the same
dismal anger that overtook Christopher whenever Rebecca’s father beat her. She
looked up at Christopher and then down at the table again. Christopher sat down
beside her at the table because he wanted to be the one to comfort her and he
felt it inside, the pang of jealousy that it had been his father she had come
to and not him, but he dismissed it immediately, embarrassed in front of
himself.

    ‚ÄúRebecca‚Äôs been here for about half
an hour,” Stefan whispered in English. “We got her cleaned up but she’s still
very upset.   She hasn‚Äôt said much.‚Äù

    Christopher glanced up at his father
and then at Rebecca. Alexandra had come around and was hugging her from behind.
Stefan placed his hand on the spill of hair on top of her head and kept it
there and Christopher took her hand. They stayed like that for a few seconds
before Christopher spoke.

    ‚ÄúWhat did he do this time, Rebecca?‚Äù

    She lifted her head off her arms, her
eyes reddened and bulging wide. She brushed the hair away from her face and sat
up in the chair. “Can I have a glass of water?”

    ‚ÄúOf course, get her a glass of water,
Alexandra, please.”

    ‚ÄúYes Father,‚Äù Alexandra answered.
Rebecca waited until Alexandra had returned and she had the water in her hand
to start talking.

      ‚ÄúIt all started last week when my father
said that since I was fifteen now and that it was time that I left school to
get a job. I told him that I wanted to stay in school, at least for another
year or two. But he got angry and hit me. Peter tried to stop him, but he hit
Peter too.”

      ‚ÄúWhat did your mother say?‚Äù Christopher
asked.

    ‚ÄúOh,