Claire.
‘No,’ said Holly. ‘I’m always going there.’
‘Rec?’
‘Shut. It’s dark.’
‘Oh yes. Well, what about that bomb site place Laura and I used to play in?’
‘It’s got a house on it now.’
The two of them stood on the pavement, thinking. Laura was usually the leader, but Laura had disappeared somewhere. Actually, it was rather a relief being without her. She had seemed so grumpy this holidays, mooning about and telling their parents how hideous their furniture was, things like that. One felt more Christmassy without her.
Badger looked up at them and waved his white plume of a tail.
‘I know,’ said Claire finally. ‘The roofs.’
‘What roofs? What roofs?’ cried Holly.
They set off down the road, past the similar houses, past the large dark gardens, past the Rec with its closed iron gates. Holly, thrilled at this sudden sisterly adventure, skipped along the pavement. Now it was dark, there was that unmistakable Christmas feeling in the air, a sense of timelessness, a hushed expectancy.
At the bottom of the road they turned a corner. Here they passed a wrought-iron fence and Holly slowed down from a skip to a walk.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ asked Claire.
‘Touching each of the twiddly bits. I have to when I go past.’
‘Why?’
‘So none are left out’
Claire laughed. ‘Do you know, I did that? At least, I used to run my hands along those bobbles at the top.’
‘So you’d be sure there would be chocolate cake for tea or it wouldn’t hurt at the dentist’s.’
‘That’s right.’ They moved off down the road. ‘What else do you do?’
‘Oh, I canter this bit when I’m being a pony.’
Claire looked down at the pavement. ‘And you never tread on the cracks.’
‘Of course not. You are, though.’
Claire looked down where she was stepping. She felt a vestigial tweak. Fear? Guilt? She started avoiding them.
With crack-avoiding strides they made their way down the street. They stepped in harmony. Soon they arrived at the block of flats with the roofs, the roofs where Claire and Laura had so often played. They crept through the shrubbery, past the rows of lighted windows; up the fire-escape at the back they tiptoed.
‘This is super!’ whispered Holly. Badger’s claws made little scrabbling clatters as he followed them up. Claire gripped the iron railing; she peeped furtively into the lighted kitchens they were passing; she ducked when a shape appeared and closed a window. Her skin prickled with delicious fear, a feeling she thought she’d outgrown. Badger barked, once. ‘Ssh!’ hissed Claire. That exquisite, dry-throated alertness was still there, hardly blunted with her adulthood.
They tiptoed on to the roof. It was an interesting one, full of skylights and tanks and large strange air-ducts. Claire looked around; just for a moment she wished that Laura were there. Now they’d arrived she hadn’t the faintest idea what they’d ever done . But she’d think of something; half of her was tingling with excitement. Half, the adult half, just thought of it as a nice view.
The skyline was jumbled with shapes; they were creeping past them when Holly drew in her breath. They stopped.
Holly pointed. ‘Look!’ she hissed.
Claire looked. ‘What is it? I can’t see anything.’
‘Look at that shape. It’s a person. It
is
.’
Claire stiffened. Holly was right: it was the hunched shape of a person. Someone was sitting there.
Just then Badger barked. The shape jumped up, suddenly familiar.
‘Laura!’
They stared at each other, then giggled. ‘Goodness, what a relief!’ They laughed, each pretending they hadn’t been frightened.
‘What are you doing here?’ Claire asked.
‘Just thinking. Dreaming. Escaping from home for a while.’
They both looked at Laura. The surprise subsided, leaving the atmosphere changed.
‘I came up here to breathe,’ said Laura. She threw her head back and gazed up. ‘To look at that beautiful sky.
‘No,’ said Holly. ‘I’m always going there.’
‘Rec?’
‘Shut. It’s dark.’
‘Oh yes. Well, what about that bomb site place Laura and I used to play in?’
‘It’s got a house on it now.’
The two of them stood on the pavement, thinking. Laura was usually the leader, but Laura had disappeared somewhere. Actually, it was rather a relief being without her. She had seemed so grumpy this holidays, mooning about and telling their parents how hideous their furniture was, things like that. One felt more Christmassy without her.
Badger looked up at them and waved his white plume of a tail.
‘I know,’ said Claire finally. ‘The roofs.’
‘What roofs? What roofs?’ cried Holly.
They set off down the road, past the similar houses, past the large dark gardens, past the Rec with its closed iron gates. Holly, thrilled at this sudden sisterly adventure, skipped along the pavement. Now it was dark, there was that unmistakable Christmas feeling in the air, a sense of timelessness, a hushed expectancy.
At the bottom of the road they turned a corner. Here they passed a wrought-iron fence and Holly slowed down from a skip to a walk.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ asked Claire.
‘Touching each of the twiddly bits. I have to when I go past.’
‘Why?’
‘So none are left out’
Claire laughed. ‘Do you know, I did that? At least, I used to run my hands along those bobbles at the top.’
‘So you’d be sure there would be chocolate cake for tea or it wouldn’t hurt at the dentist’s.’
‘That’s right.’ They moved off down the road. ‘What else do you do?’
‘Oh, I canter this bit when I’m being a pony.’
Claire looked down at the pavement. ‘And you never tread on the cracks.’
‘Of course not. You are, though.’
Claire looked down where she was stepping. She felt a vestigial tweak. Fear? Guilt? She started avoiding them.
With crack-avoiding strides they made their way down the street. They stepped in harmony. Soon they arrived at the block of flats with the roofs, the roofs where Claire and Laura had so often played. They crept through the shrubbery, past the rows of lighted windows; up the fire-escape at the back they tiptoed.
‘This is super!’ whispered Holly. Badger’s claws made little scrabbling clatters as he followed them up. Claire gripped the iron railing; she peeped furtively into the lighted kitchens they were passing; she ducked when a shape appeared and closed a window. Her skin prickled with delicious fear, a feeling she thought she’d outgrown. Badger barked, once. ‘Ssh!’ hissed Claire. That exquisite, dry-throated alertness was still there, hardly blunted with her adulthood.
They tiptoed on to the roof. It was an interesting one, full of skylights and tanks and large strange air-ducts. Claire looked around; just for a moment she wished that Laura were there. Now they’d arrived she hadn’t the faintest idea what they’d ever done . But she’d think of something; half of her was tingling with excitement. Half, the adult half, just thought of it as a nice view.
The skyline was jumbled with shapes; they were creeping past them when Holly drew in her breath. They stopped.
Holly pointed. ‘Look!’ she hissed.
Claire looked. ‘What is it? I can’t see anything.’
‘Look at that shape. It’s a person. It
is
.’
Claire stiffened. Holly was right: it was the hunched shape of a person. Someone was sitting there.
Just then Badger barked. The shape jumped up, suddenly familiar.
‘Laura!’
They stared at each other, then giggled. ‘Goodness, what a relief!’ They laughed, each pretending they hadn’t been frightened.
‘What are you doing here?’ Claire asked.
‘Just thinking. Dreaming. Escaping from home for a while.’
They both looked at Laura. The surprise subsided, leaving the atmosphere changed.
‘I came up here to breathe,’ said Laura. She threw her head back and gazed up. ‘To look at that beautiful sky.
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