The Missing Link Read Online Free Page A

Scotland.’
    ‘Oh, God,’ I said. What was I going to do now ? If I stopped him getting on the bus he’d throw an out-and-out wobbler. There was no doubt about that. And he wouldn’t do any breath-holding for me, either. Not if I was thwarting him. I wished I had woken Maurice.
    The others were nearly all on the bus. We were at the back, and I was still trying to work out a last minute stroke of genius when the starling landed on my shoulder. I jumped and shook it off, but it came back again, clinging on to the fabric of my jacket with sharp claws.
    ‘Put me in your pocket, Christie,’ it said. ‘Then get on the bus.’

9
    I STARED STRAIGHT ahead of me, completely gobsmacked. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t make the starling’s speech fit into my version of reality. My mind jumped through hoops. It was a toy, a clever machine. But it wasn’t. It had just learned a few words, like a parrot. But it hadn’t. There was a magician around, throwing her voice. I looked around. There wasn’t. But while I was standing there trying to figure it out, this crazy twist of fate was continuing to work on me. Because Danny was already clambering aboard the bus, pointing me out to the driver, shuffling up between the rows of seats.
    I was seeing it all but I couldn’t make sense of it.
    ‘In your pocket, Christie,’ said the starling.
    ‘Are you getting on or what?’ called the bus driver, revving the huge engine.
    I would never get Danny off that bus now. Not without the wobbler of a lifetime. I had a sudden vision of the bus in chaos, and of me dragging him by the feet, backwards down the steps on to the footpath. I did the only thing I could. I stepped forward.
    As I did so, the starling fluttered madly at the breast of my jacket, and I pulled open the flap and let her into the big poacher’s pocket in the lining. By the time I was finished I was on the bus, the driver was giving me strange looks, and I was staring at the bundle of notes, all sweaty in my fist.
    A shock ran through me. The notes were a joke, some sort of toy money. I was about ready to crack.
    ‘Dublin, is it?’ said the driver, losing patience. I nodded, scrabbling at the money, opening the roll. In the middle, to my relief, were the familiar Irish notes: fives, tens, twenties. I handed one over, and the driver printed out the tickets and counted out my change. In my pocket I could feel the starling moving around. Something dropped on to the floor beside my foot. A stub of a pencil. Then more things: an old chocolate wrapper, a broken Warhammer piece, an ice-lolly stick. The bird was making herself comfortable. I didn’t pick them up, and hoped that no one had noticed.
    Danny had found a seat at the back. I sat down beside him and inspected the funny money. It was sterling; some English and some Scottish.
    It was for real, then. Danny’s mother had given him this money. Somehow or other, she really did expect him to make his way to her, in Scotland. And somehow or other, I had allowed myself to get dragged into it.
    Danny was giggling. ‘Yay, yay. Going to Scotland,’ he said.
    I smiled to humour him. We were stuck as far as Dublin, anyway. But I had no intention whatsoever of going any further.

PART TWO

1
    AS THE SUN rose, Oggy and Tina were just waking up in their doorway. Oggy gazed at Tina with that eternally devoted look that dogs have, but Tina looked back with suspicion.
    ‘I had a funny dream about you,’ she said.
    ‘Did you?’ said Oggy.
    ‘Hmm,’ said Tina. ‘It wasn’t a dream.’
    The cleaners arrived with the keys to the shopping centre.
    ‘How’s it going, Tina?’ said one.
    ‘Got any fags?’ said Tina.
    ‘Get yourself a chimney if you want to smoke,’ said one of the others.
    ‘Yeah,’ said another. ‘And a house to go with it.’
    ‘Thanks,’ said Tina. ‘Bite her, Oggy.’
    But Oggy didn’t. When the women had gone inside and locked the door behind them again, he said, ‘They weren’t so bad. They