Read He Called Me Son (The Blountmere Street Series Book 1) for Free Online

the kitchen and I’ll cut you a piece.’   Lori laughed what I always thought of was a frizzy laugh, like her hair.   ‘I can see these ducks aren’t going to go hungry.’  
    Instead of popping across the road there and then, I jumped Lori’s path to our place.   I opened the door and shouted to Angela.   I must have been going soft in the head or something to actually tell Angela.
    When it was filled with water, the crater looked like a real pond and a bit out of place on the bombsite.   But the ducks seemed to like it, because when we got there they were sitting on some stones sunning themselves.   That soon changed when we threw some of Lori’s bread on the water.   Then they quacked and paddled towards us as if they hadn’t eaten before.  
    ‘D’you like that, ducky ducks,’ Angela spoke to them in a voice she only used for animals.   ‘You’re lovely,’ she crooned.
    After we’d used all the bread, Angela settled herself on the ground, continuing to talk to them.   They kept swimming up and down past her, as if they could understand what she was saying to them.
    After ten minutes I’d had enough.   ‘Are you coming home?   I asked, but Angela waved her arm in the air as if she was glad to be getting rid of me.   ‘No, I’m staying here to look after them.’
     
    ‘Go across to the bombsite and tell your sister her tea’s ready, and don’t take no for an answer.   I know she wants to protect the ducks, but she’s not eating her tea over there.   Anyway it’s getting dark and even ducks have to sleep.’   It was plain Mum didn’t understand how we felt about them, I thought, as I nipped across to the bombsite to fetch Angela.
    ‘I know they have to sleep.   I’m not stupid,’ Angela huffed when I passed on what Mum had said.  
    ‘I want to stay for a while to make sure they’re safe.’   The tough look on Angela’s face changed to something soft like the inside of one of Old Boy Barker’s bulls eyes.
    ‘Honest, Tone, I can’t let anything happen to them, not after what happened to …’   She broke off abruptly.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Nothing.   It doesn’t matter.’
    ‘Keep it to yourself, then.   See if I care.   Anyway, Fred said he’d pop over later tonight to check on them.   I expect he’ll bring Lori with him.’   I tugged on her sleeve.   ‘You’ve got to come now.   Mum’s getting mad.’
    Angela shrugged me off.   ‘I’m not frightened of Mum.’  
    Just the same, she collapsed the camping stool she’d been using.   It was Les Dibble’s, and Paula had smuggled it out of their flat for us.   Angela folded the blanket she had taken from her bed, and hid it with the chair behind a pile of rubble.   Before she left, she called to the ducks, telling them to hide while she was away, and then she belted off home.
    I followed, thinking she was daft calling out to ducks.   ‘Don’t you want your blanket?’ I called after her.
    ‘I’m coming back later.   I’m not going to leave those ducks alone all night.   I don’t care what Mum or the King of England says.   I’m coming back to check on them after tea.’
    Mum had our meal on the table.   We didn’t even stop to wash our hands before we attacked the food.  
    ‘Your manners are getting worse, the two of you,’ Mum complained, as we bolted our tea down so fast Angela got the hiccups and I let out a loud burp.
    ‘You haven’t given yourselves time to digest your food,’ she continued, but we were already making for the door and bounding down the stairs.   With Mum’s legs the way they were, I knew by the time she’d hobbled to the bottom, we’d already be on the bombsite.  
    ‘Who said you could come?   I don’t need you or anyone else.’ Angela was still hiccupping.
    ‘The ducks are ours, remember.’  
    For a while neither of us spoke, as we concentrated on getting across the ruins in the dark.
    It was cold, not ordinary cold, but the sort of misty cold that gave