The Brave Read Online Free Page B

was tall and thin, with lots of bony angles to him. His clothes always seemed to have enough room for two of him. His hair was thick and floppy and silvery white except at the front where it was stained yellow by smoke from his pipe.
    "Wagon Train," Tommy explained.
    "Ah."
    He stood, swaying a little, outside the bedroom door as if he couldn't decide whether to come in or say goodnight from where he was. He made a little jutting movement with his chin.
    "That old fellow's going to miss you."
    Tommy didn't know what this meant. He put Custer's Last Stand down and watched his father step carefully among all the toy cowboys and Indians who waged constant war across the carpet. He looked as if he wanted to sit down on the bed but then noticed its strange angle and the logs propping it up and decided it was safer to stand. The bedside lamp made his baggy cavalry twill trousers glow while his top half remained in shadow. He plucked the teddy bear from the pillow and Tommy realized that this was the "old fellow" he'd been talking about.
    "Hmm. Poor old chap's looking a bit worse for wear."
    It was true. Old Ted had bald patches and bore the scars of many repairs. He'd once belonged to Diane and had been the victim of countless fantastic misfortunes. He'd been tortured and hanged, burnt at the stake, tossed from windows and subjected to hugely invasive surgery.
    "Can't I take him with me?"
    His father laughed.
    "Teddy bears at prep school? Good heavens, no! What would they think?"
    "What would who think?"
    "Staff, other boys, everyone."
    "Doesn't everyone have a teddy bear?"
    "Only when they're little."
    He ruffled Tommy's hair.
    "Don't worry, we'll look after him."
    He tucked the bear back into bed.
    "Well, better see what the old girl's done to my supper. Lights out now."
    He bent down and for a moment Tommy thought he was going to kiss him, which he hadn't done for years. But he was just looking for the lamp switch. His tweed jacket smelled of smoke and the whisky he'd been drinking at the golf club.
    "Emptied the bilges, have we?"
    "Yes."
    "Let's see if we can have a dry night then, hmm?"
    "I'll try."
    "That's the spirit. Night-night, old chap."
    "Night."
    Tommy lay on his back, staring at the slice of yellow light that angled across the ceiling from the landing while he performed his nightly ritual, reciting in a whisper one hundred times, I will not wet the bed, I will not wet the bed, I will not wet the bed...
    His parents were watching the TV news in the sitting room. A man was talking about President Eisenhower coming back to London from Scotland where he'd been to visit the queen. His first name was Dwight but everyone called him Ike. He seemed like a nice old man. Tommy had a photo of him shaking hands with John Wayne.
    His thoughts drifted back to Flint and how clever he was to have found those hoofprints by the river. He wondered what would have happened to the little girl if she hadn't been rescued from the Indians. Worse than boarding school, for sure. Just two days more at home and that was where he would be. The place had looked pleasant enough in the spring when his mother and father had taken him to see it. Vast rolling lawns and lots of trees. Football pitches. A gym with ropes you could climb. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.
    Somewhere in the float of these thoughts, Tommy must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew was that the house was all quiet and the landing light had been switched off. Someone was stroking his forehead.
    "Diane?"
    "Hello, my darling," she whispered.
    She was kneeling beside his bed and he had the impression that she'd been there for some time. She leaned closer and kissed his cheek. She was still wearing her raincoat. Her hair smelled of flowers.
    "Have you just got here?"
    "Yes."
    She kept stroking his forehead. Her hand felt soft and cool. In the dark he couldn't see her face clearly but her smile was sad and somehow he knew she'd been crying.
    "What's the matter?"
    She