Free The Fire-Eaters by David Almond Page B

school. They come again, you know.”
    “Who did?”
    “The buggers from the council. They were in a big black car. ‘We've come to get your daughter to go to school,' they said. ‘Have you now?' says Dad. ‘You and whose army?' says Yak. ‘We don't want any trouble now,' they says, ‘and we know you folk is independentminded, but it's the law, Mr. Spink.' One of them turns to us, a big fat feller with specs and goggly eyes. ‘Do you not want to pursue your education, little lady?' he says. ‘No,' I say. ‘You'll be left behind, you know,' he says. ‘This is a time of opportunities and great improvement for common folk like you. All the other bairns is grabbing their opportunities.' ‘I diven't care,' I says. ‘I'm happy.' ‘See?' says Yak. ‘But it's the law, Mr. Spink,' says Goggle Eyes. ‘Then you can take your law,' says Losh, ‘and stick it up your hairy arse. Now hadaway. We've got work to do.’
    “And did they go?” I said.
    “Oh, aye, but they'll be back. They said the police might have to get involved. ‘Then so might this shovel of mine,' says Losh. They scarpered back to the car and off they went.”
    She peeled a potato, cutting away a perfect curling slice of skin.
    “They'll be back,” she said. “And probably I'll end upgoing. But it's fun to keep them hopping, like me daddy says. Boring buggers.”
    I helped her to peel the potatoes. She put them on to boil. We set the table. “Aye,” I said, when she asked again if I would stay for tea. “Me mam'll know I'm here.”
    We drank some of her lemonade.
    “Ailsa,” I said. “What was it like when your mother died?”
    She rolled her eyes.
    “Oh, it was just great!” She laughed. “It was such fun! What do you think it was like? It was horrible. It was the worst thing. It was …”
    She looked at me.
    “What's wrong?” she said.
    “Nowt.”
    Then her dad and her brothers came in, filthy and huge and with their eyes sparkling in filthy faces.
    “We're feeding Hollow Legs, are we?” said Yak. “You should've shot a cow, Losh.”
    They washed their hands in a basin by the door, lit cigarettes and swigged big glasses of beer.
    Ailsa's dad put his arms around me and Ailsa.
    “These lovely bairns,” he said. “They're a credit to each and every one of us.”

L ater Ailsa and I went out and we stood in the sea beneath the stars.
    “Every one's a million million miles away,” I said. “And they look tiny, but every one of them's a massive sun.”
    A shooting star streaked through the sky and for an instant was the brightest thing above.
    “And that's mebbe no bigger than a fingernail,” I said.
    I kicked the water with my bare feet. The lighthouse light swept across us.
    “Why's it all so bloody hard?” I said.
    She laughed.
    “‘Cos you think too much,” she said.
    I knew she was right. I tried to empty my mind of everything but the sea, the night and Ailsa.
    “What did you do to heal the fawn?” I said.
    “I told you.”
    “Was it really that easy?”
    “Lemon squeezy.”
    “Will you do it for me dad?”
    “Your dad?” “I think he's really ill. Will you tell God to make him better?”
    “Course I will. But you do it and all. Two folk asking's got a better chance than one. What's wrong with him?”
    “I dunno. It's probably nowt.”
    “It'll be a piece of cake, then.”
    She laughed at me again.
    “You're a strange'n, Bobby Burns. Let's do it now.”
    “Eh?”
    “Let's do the asking now. Howay.”
    She led me to the water's edge. We knelt on the wet sand. She put her hands together.
    “Howay,” she said, so I put my hands together too.
    “Close your eyes,” she said, so I closed my eyes.
    “Make Bobby's dad better,” she said. “Say it, Bobby.”
    “Make Dad better,” I said.
    I peeped into the endless sky.
    “Say it again,” she said. “Will it to happen. Speak to God.”
    “Make Dad better,” I whispered.
    “Now wish and wish and wish and wish,” she said.
    I felt the water seeping