Читать книгу The Kingdom by the Sea - Robert Westall - Страница 13

“This is as far as we go, sonny Jim,” said the conductor. “Unless you want to go back to Tynemouth. Where d’you live?”

God, adults got suspicious so quickly. Harry had been dozing, but he had the sense to say, “Across the river.” That was all he knew about Blyth; that it had a river. It was ten miles from home, and he’d never been there in his life.

“You’ll just catch the last ferry,” said the conductor and nodded his head instinctively in a certain direction. Harry grabbed his stuff, all of a shake, and set off in the direction the man had nodded. As he set off, he heard the conductor say to the driver, “Some folks have no sense, letting their bairns wander round this time of night wi’ the air raids and all.”

It was late. The bus seemed to have taken forever. The sun was gone; it was getting dark. He began to hurry. There was no point spending the night here. Blyth was bombed as often as Tynemouth; there were a lot of gaps in the streets of houses. And his mam said Blyth was full of roughs and drunks. He knew he was heading for the river all right, because of the towering dockside cranes. But the river was the roughest part of any town.

And as he turned down the ferry landing, he met two roughs. Men in dirty caps. He didn’t like the way they stopped, and watched him approach. The way they filled the whole footpath, blocking his way.

“By, that’s a grand dog ye’ve got there. A grand expensive dog.”

“Worth a pretty penny, that dog. Where did ye find him? Is he lost?”

“What ye got in the case, laddy? Show us what you got in the case! We’re policemen.”