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ago we never saw hilt or hair of you on a Tuesday or Friday, for you were too busy with the lads in the club practising your guitars, and it’s now Friday night, so what are you after?’
    ‘Oh, nowt . . . nothing, Mrs Doolin. I just wanted a word with Matty.’ He cast his eyes in Matty’s direction and kept them there while he said, ‘To tell him I’ve got me tent.’
    Mrs Doolin pressed her lips together, and, lowering her head, wagged it slowly before saying, ‘What did I tell you, our Matty? I told you to tell Willie there was no camping holiday for you, not just the three of you.’ She raised her head as she added, ‘After the schemozzle in the house last Saturday I’d have thought you would have had the sense to finish it.’
    ‘Aw.’ Willie was moving from one leg to the other now. ‘Well, Mrs Doolin, he’s never seen me since. He . . . he would have told me else.’
    ‘Be quiet, Willie, and don’t be so silly. In the same school and not seeing each other! Walking up the road together for years and not seeing each other . . . ! Oh boy.’ She flicked her hand at him impatiently, and he came back at her with a disarming smile, saying quietly, ‘We . . . ell, Mrs Doolin, I’ve been off bad . . . cold, you know.’
    There was a pause before Mrs Doolin asked, ‘All the week?’
    ‘Aw well, no. Just since Wednesday.’
    ‘Well then, he had plenty of time to tell you, Willie.’ She nodded towards Matty. ‘But if he didn’t, I’m tellin’ you now. He’s going on no camping holiday. Is that final? And nothing you can say will make me change me mind. Do you get that?’
    Willie did not answer, and there was silence in the room now, and Mrs Doolin looked from him to Joe, who stood just to the side of him. Then she lifted her eyes to her son, and their glances held before her eyes dropped to Nelson, where the dog was squatting peacefully on the mat, and she exclaimed impatiently, ‘With one thing and another I’m about distracted. Go on, get yourself out.’ She was addressing Matty now. ‘And take that animal with you. And remember what I told you about him an’ all. If you don’t do it I will. Or,’ she added, ‘your dad will.’
    Matty’s gaze dropped slowly away from his mother’s, and, stooping, he tugged Nelson gently to his feet. The other boys made for the door, and Willie, endeavouring to be polite to the last, said, ‘Goodnight, Mr Doolin; and you too Mrs Doolin. Goodnight.’
    ‘Goodnight.’ Mr Doolin’s reply sounded flat, while Mrs Doolin, with a helpless air, said, ‘Aw, goodnight, Willie.’
    ‘Thank you for the tea, Mrs Doolin; it was grand. Thanks a lot.’ It was Joe now, addressing her, and she half smiled at him as she said, ‘That’s all right, Joe.’
    The three boys were going into the yard when Matty suddenly stopped and handed the dog to Joe, saying quietly, ‘Take him down the yard, will you; I won’t be a minute.’ Then he went back into the kitchen, and there interrupted a muttered conversation that was passing between his parents. He stood staring at them until his father, with his usual form of enquiry, said, ‘Well?’
    Matty held them both a moment longer in his glance before he asked stiffly, ‘You really mean it, that you won’t let me go campin’?’ He watched his mother close her eyes before saying, ‘I thought you’d have sense to know we’ve had it all out. Do I have to repeat it again? You’re not going camping on the fells with those two alone. With a crowd, yes, but not just by yourselves. They haven’t got two pennorth of gumption atween them. Anything could happen.’
    ‘Is that enough for you?’ asked his father menacingly.
    Matty now wetted his lips; then swallowed before he said, ‘And you really mean that I’ve got to get rid of Nelson, that . . . that he’s got to go someplace the morrow?’
    His mother looked at his father, then wearily back to him as she said slowly, ‘Boy, I’ve told you. It isn’t only that he tears