Free The Girl With Glass Feet by Ali Shaw

had been desperate to tell somebody about it, but there was nobody who would listen. Heavy rain broke over the school, banging off the rooftops and driving the other children inside. And that brought Freddy Clare to the library.
    ‘Hello, Crooky,’ he said, sidling onto the chair opposite Midas. His hair stuck to his neck, soaked by rain.
    ‘Hello, Freddy.’
    ‘Look at this, Crooky.’ Something silver flashed in his pocket as he opened his blazer. It looked like the handle of a spoon.
    ‘What’s that, Freddy?’
    Freddy looked around furtively, then pulled it from his pocket. A flick knife, blade folded into the handle. ‘Like in
The Godfather
, Crooky. Do you like it?’
    ‘It’s very nice.’
    ‘Damn right. Now, you got any money on you?’
    ‘No.’
    Freddy gritted his teeth. ‘Don’t be a silly boy, Crooky. Being a silly boy could land you in trouble. Let’s not forget, I know where you live.’
    Midas watched Freddy toy with the knife. He had plasters on three fingers and one thumb. There were no librarians in sight and though other kids had noticed, their noses were buried resolutely in books.
    ‘I don’t have any money, Freddy.’
    ‘Of course not.’ Smiling, he pulled the blade from its handle.
    ‘I… I’m not lying.’
    ‘Of course not. Like in
The Godfather
, Crooky.’
    To Midas’s relief, a librarian appeared from behind the Ancient History section. She saw Freddy’s knife and looked horrified, opening and closing her mouth, fiddling with her cardigan buttons.
    Freddy sighed and folded the blade back into the handle. ‘It’s all right, Miss, I was just showing Crooky my new toy.’
    He slipped off his chair and looked ruefully at the knife. Rain battered the library windows.
    ‘But I suppose you’ll want to confiscate it. Won’t you, Miss?’
    He held it out to her. She snatched it up.
    ‘Well!’ she puffed, ‘thank goodness you boys have been responsible about this!’
    Freddy beamed. ‘No problem, Miss. You caught me fair and square.’
    The librarian held the knife between finger and thumb, as if it might contaminate her. ‘You realize I shall be obliged to report this breach of school regulations?’
    Freddy shrugged amicably. ‘Just doing your job, Miss.’ He stuffed his hands into his pockets and checked the big library clock.
    ‘What do you know? Break-time’s nearly over. Time flies, doesn’t it, Crooky? See you after school.’
    Midas and the librarian watched him saunter off. The school bell rang.

     
    Midas hid in the library toilets until lessons began. Then he made his escape, slipping out of school with his jacket collar turned up, the rain and wind so heavy he had to force his way home. When he got in he was soaked through. He called out to see if his father was home but got no reply. Then, while he made coffee, he saw a note tacked to the fridge door:
    In garage. Sorry about mess.
    M.
    Midas left the coffee and pulled his drenched jacket back on. Hewent out through the back door, jogged through the yard and down the alleyway to the street’s block of garages. Rain fell at a sharp angle, fired up by the wind.
    Light shone an outline around the edge of the garage door. Drops drummed on the metal and echoed off windows. Midas splashed over and hauled the door open, ducking inside as soon as there was space.
    His father stood on a stepladder, a pale moustached man in a sweater and smart trousers, tearing at a strip of tape with his teeth. He was sticking bin liners to one wall. His nervous hunch was pronounced, even on the ladder.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Midas asked.
    His father almost fell off the ladder in surprise, then held a hand to his heart. ‘
My God,
Midas, you frightened the wits out of me.’ He hurried down the stepladder and kicked shut a case in which lay some sort of tool, something L-shaped and black-handled. Midas didn’t see it for long enough to tell what it was, although he noticed a bag of tiny metal cylinders beside it in the