Free Arcadia by James Treadwell Page B

be free to fetch the bag of food, find some clothes, and take them all over to the crest of the Lane without anyone noticing.
    â€œWhat about Rory?” Laurel says.
    He’s not sure he’s ever hated anyone as much as he hates Laurel right then.
    â€œGathering,” Missus Shark says. “That storm will have stirred things up. Brought down a lot of cones too.” She looks around the room. There are murmurs of agreement. “In the Borough Farm woods. Connie wouldn’t mind that.” Everyone looks at Kate, who nods.
    â€œLook for mushrooms too,” Fi says. “The woods are full of them.”
    â€œEurgh,” Pink says. “He’ll get the wrong ones and poison everyone.”
    â€œYou know which ones, Rory, don’t you?”
    â€œâ€™Course.”
    â€œGet them all,” Missus Shark says. “No need for separate bags. I’ll sort them out for you.”
    It’s not too bad, actually. He’ll be by himself, which is the main thing, and in the woods, which means he’ll be hidden and no one else should be working anywhere nearby. He can sneak off and no one will know.
    â€œPink should go with him,” Laurel says. “She’s a good forager.”
    If he could kill Laurel by looking at her, she’d be dead.
    â€œGood idea,” Kate says, and because Kate says it that’s that. He barely hears another word. Pink’s jabbering about something, he doesn’t know what. He’s sick with dread. He can almost feel the stranger’s hands on his throat. What’s he going to do, what’s he going to do? His mother’s coming back soon too and then he’ll never have a moment to himself. Since Ol died she’s been weird about keeping an eye on him all the time, and she’ll have a hundred other jobs for him to do, mopping, weeding, going up the ladder to do the gutters, or just the endless exhausting labor of lugging water around. Missus Shark loads him up with bags and instructions, and Viola adds more—“Stay in the woods around Borough Farm, all right? Rory? Nowhere else”—and wherever he goes Pink won’t stand more than two feet away from him. He’s in such a state that he’s dressed and out the door before he remembers the bag in the cellar.
    He stops dead, staring at Pink.
    â€œI forgot something.”
    Pink’s already cross with him for not listening. “What?”
    â€œSomething. Wait here.”
    Pink follows him inside, pink wellies scuttling. “Where are you going?”
    â€œI said wait here!”
    â€œI won’t!” she shouts back. He pushes her but she just pushes back. She’s got a much older sister, she’s used to asserting herself and refusing to be left out.
    â€œI’m only getting something from inside.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œNone of your business.”
    â€œIs it a secret?”
    â€œâ€™Course it isn’t a secret, stupid.”
    Pink dances along behind him, skipping away each time he rounds on her and tries to shove her back. “You’ve got a secret! You’re acting funny. I’m coming too.”
    â€œNo you aren’t.”
    â€œShow me. I promise I won’t tell.”
    Rory may only be ten but he knows enough about people to be quite sure that anything Pink promises not to repeat will be common knowledge before sunset. Short of hurting her, though, he doesn’t see what he can do. “It’s only some food.”
    She looks disappointed. “Why can’t I come with you, then?”
    It’s always hopeless trying to argue with Pink. She’s a Brat, Laurel always says so. Without another word he stamps downstairs and collects the bag from the larder cellar.
    â€œWhat’s in there?”
    â€œI told you, food.”
    â€œWho’s it for?”
    â€œShut up. Idiot.”
    She really is disappointed, though, and she’s lost interest in needling him.