Fireweed Read Online Free Page B

bleating, as I went. Shouting gibberish at me the two shepherds came down the slope behind me.
    At the bottom of the field there was a dip – a sort of narrow concrete pool, with a little stream running alongside it. Last time I had seen it the dip had been empty and dry. When I felt the hard concrete under my feet, I jumped, expecting to land on the bank of the stream, and be over that too in another stride. But the concrete was wet; I slipped, fell, and plunged into five feet of stinking water. The stink was heavy disinfectant. It reeked. It burnt my nose and mouth. I coughed, sank again, and took another mouthful. There was no grip on the sides of the pool, and the top edge was too high for me to reach. I floundered. Coming up with the lantern David and Evan stood high above my head on dry land, and laughed like maniacs, hanging on to each other for support, and howling with laughter. Somehow I struggled to the end of the pool, and scrambled out.
    I was so angry I thought I was going to murder them. I caught myself looking round for a stone, and feeling the blow in my mind’s eye. When I took a grip on myself I began to shake all over.
    They were very concerned. They hurried me up to the farm house, and stood me beside the fire, while they peeled off my sodden clothes. I was still possessed by fury.
    â€˜What in hell was that there for?’ I asked through my teeth.
    â€˜It’s for delousing sheep, see,’ said Hugh, roaring with laughter again. But I didn’t think it was funny.
    â€˜I’m going to bed,’ I said, clutching the towel I was wrapped in.
    â€˜Mrs Jones told me there is a letter for you at the Post Office, and you have not been asking for it,’ said Mrs Williams. I stopped on the bottom step.
    â€˜You mean, someone has been keeping my letters?’ I demanded.
    â€˜Keeping them back? You are not in London now, boy. The postman cannot come round the whole mountain, just for one or two letters for the farms. Our letters stay at the Post Office till we fetch them.’
    Well, how could I have known that?
    First thing next morning, I was down there, asking for it. Mrs Jones gave me two letters, out of a cubby hole behind the counter. I felt self-conscious, standing there, for I was sure I still smelt like a sheep, though I had stood in the yard for ten minutes pumping cold water over myself, and scrubbing down my flinching and tingling skin. I went out and sat on the stile opposite to read them.
    The first was from my aunt. She thought being on a farm would be good for my health. She hoped I was being a good boy. She sent me my father’s address, and a book of stamps, and hoped I would write to him often … I felt sorry I had been hating her. She must have sent the address on my letter to my father right away, too, because the other letter was from him. He said things weren’t too bad in the army, but he missed me a lot. He hoped I was not being more trouble than I could help to the people I was with. He had some leave coming soon, and would be spending it with my aunt, but it wouldn’t seem like home without his boy. I was to spend the money how I liked. I looked in the envelope again, and found three pounds in it. I had never had so much money in my life before.
    I thought of buying something decent to read. I wondered how many weeks’ fares it would pay to the school over the mountain. I wondered if I could use it somehow to impress the Williamses, and make them sorry they had laughed at me. I thought of my father, at home in London, with only my aunt to talk to, and wondered idly what he looked like in uniform.
    Then suddenly I stopped thinking idly. I went up the road to the station, and looked at the timetable. There was only one train a day down the valley, and only every other day at that. And I had just missed one, anyway. The man in the ticket office stared at me, curiously, and I knew that he knew who I was, and I couldn’t expect to buy