her causing so much fuss. And look at those legs! She’s like a doll with half the stuffing missing,’ Barbara said, as she examined the perfect child.
Mrs Carey laughed, her eyes tearful with pleasure. ‘Give her time, fach . In a month those limbs will be filled out and she’ll be the most beautiful baby the town’s ever seen.’
‘If it had been a boy,’ Barbara said sleepily, ‘I’d have called him Luke.’
Luke heard about the birth of Rosita early in 1918. It was a Tuesday but Richard didn’t complain when Barbara asked him to abandon school and go to the cottage at Gull Island with a note for Luke.
The wind came across the sea with a bite and Richard covered up his head by pulling the back of his coat up and over it, his head in the part where his shoulders should be, arms high and sticking out like antennae. His legs were bare apart from socks which fell around his ankles and disappeared into the over-large boots, but it felt a little better when the wind didn’t burn his ears and forehead. Crouched at this odd angle, he walked on, giving the appearance of a deformed alien.
Luke’s place seemed empty as he approached the lonely cottage on the isolated shore but as he knocked, then climbed up to look through the window, the door opened and a smiling Luke invited him inside.
‘I brought a note from Barbara,’ Richard explained, digging in his pocket.
‘I thought you might. It’s the baby, is it? The little girl?’
‘Called her Rosita, she has, mind. There’s a name to give a tiddly little squawker.’
‘She’s a squawker, is she, this Rosita? If she makes her presence known so loudly, she’s going to stay. It shows that she’s strong.’
‘Why d’you live here all alone?’ Richard asked. ‘Haven’t you got no family?’
‘None.’ The muscles on Luke’s jaw tightened and he tried to smile. Then he added, ‘Well, there’s my friend, of course. Not really family, more a sort of adopted friend.’ He knelt down and made a squeaking sound with his lips and after a moment the mouse came out and ran over to his outstretched hand.
Richard moved slowly, instinctively careful not to frighten the little creature , and to his delight, the mouse accepted him and took food from him. The giving of food, such a basic gesture of friendship, gave pleasure and Luke’s smile became a natural one.
The man and the boy found each other good company, the spurious adulthood of Richard giving Luke a protective feeling for the boy, Richard seeing in Luke a rare adult who talked to him as an equal and not down to him.
‘Did you know that I’m six today?’ Richard told him. ‘Mam said I can have the cream off the milk in my cocoa, but I expect I’ll let Blodwen have it, her being in more need of it, like, being so young.’
‘Or Barbara maybe?’ Luke couldn’t help suggesting.
‘She wouldn’t take it, not her. Barbara won’t take more than she has to.’
‘And it’s really your sixth birthday? Well, we ought to make today something special. What d’you say to a trip in the boat? We might even catch a small coddling.’
Richard hid his excitement well, nodding briefly and throwing an ‘All right then’ over his shoulder in the most casual way. But Luke saw the glowing eyes and knew the boy was pleased. He found an extra coat and they set off armed with short boat rods and a tin of lug-worms that Luke had gathered earlier in the day.
Richard found the boat an unbelievably thrilling experience. Luke rowed them around the island and they landed for a brief walk on the soft, downy turf and watched as rabbits hopped about with no fear of them. The air had warmed slightly but was still harsh and the thought of anchoring the craft and sitting to wait for fish to swim to their bait quickly lost its appeal, so after Luke had rowed them further across the bay until they were opposite the ruined cottage, they returned to the beach and the warmth of his home with relief.
Defiant of the cold,