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

from one foot to the other.   As usual, the pleats in her skirt stood to attention, and her blouse was snowy against the greyness outside.
    ‘The ducks are swimming on the crater now.   Have you seen them?’  
    ‘Course we have.’   Angela was close behind me down the stairs.   She looked as if she was about to bite Paula.  
    Paula stepped backwards, saying, ‘I’d better go, I’ve got to finish packing my satchel ready for school.’
    ‘Thanks for last night,’ I said.   ‘Angela’s upset because Mum won’t let her take the day off school to look after her precious ducks,’ I explained.
    ‘Blabbermouth!’
    ‘I’m sure the ducks will be ...’
    ‘I’ll stay at the bombsite for the day and look after them,’ I said, beaming at the suddenness of my idea.
    ‘And how d’you propose doing that, clever clogs?’
    ‘I’ll bunk school.   Mum didn’t say I couldn’t have the day off.’
    ‘But won’t people see you?’ Paula seemed unsure.
    ‘I know just the right place to hide.’
    ‘Well, I s’ppose you could.’   Angela looked like she was considering it.   ‘You’ll need a note for Mrs Colby, though.’
    Paula took us by surprise when she offered to help.   ‘That’s easy, I’ll write one.   They might suspect something if it came from you, but I’m good at forging other people’s handwriting.’
    ‘You!’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because you’re always such a ...’
    ‘When Mum’s not looking I’ll put a couple of pieces of writing paper and an envelope in my satchel.   I can write the letter in the alley next to Jack Moody’s yard, then you can give it to Mrs Colby.   I’ve already packed my fountain pen.   I’ll say Tony’s been up all night vomiting.   You’ll have to tell me how your mother signs her name.’
    ‘That sounds all right.’   The word vomitting impressed me.   I would have said spewing or chucking it up.
    ‘You’d better hurry up if you’re going to write the note and go to the ducks.   Mornings are the most dangerous.’   Angela still wasn’t completely out of her bad mood, but, then, when was she ever!
    ‘Nobody’s going to find out.   Who’s going to suspect me?   It’s quite fun, really.’   Paula smiled at me and I smiled back.   It was smashing sharing a secret, even though Angela had to be in on it.   It was probably the first time in her whole life that Paula Dibble planned to lie.
     
    The mist that had made the bombsite appear so eerie the night before had melted away and the place didn’t seem half so spooky.   I settled myself in a dug-out behind an ancient fireplace.   It was the best hiding place I knew.   I used it a lot when we played ‘Can’t Be Found’ with the Gang.   From there I could see everything that was going on all around, without anyone seeing me.  
    I wrapped Angela’s blanket around me which was still damp from the night air and smelt of cats’ pee.   Paula had managed to sneak two queen cakes from her mother’s tin.   I stuffed them into my mouth whole, wishing she’d brought me more.
    Further along Blountmere Street I could see Vic Newnham delivering coal. His face was as black as Paula’s cat, Betsy.   A couple of women from further down the street passed by, wheeling their prams.   I heard one threaten to give her toddler a “good hiding”.   Mrs Dibble was on her way to clean the bakers.   She raced along as if a cheetah was chasing her, with Ma Barker having to gallop by her side to pass the time of day.  
    Just as my legs were going numb and I was considering climbing out of my spy hole, Fred and Lori sauntered by, arm in arm.   They stopped to look at the ducks.   I lowered myself deeper into my hiding place as the skuffing of stones told me they were getting closer.
    ‘Goodness, I don’t know how these kids play over here without injuring themselves,’ Lori seemed to be struggling to get her breath.
    ‘I’m sure you did it once,’ Fred laughed.   ‘At least we