Free The Ghost of Grania O'Malley by Michael Morpurgo Page B

at the wrong time and in the wrong place. Bit like me, I think.’ They dug a hole in the corner of the field, laid the lamb out and covered it up. Jessie looked away. She saw tears in her mother’s eyes, but she said nothing. ‘I saw Liam’s mum. She told me about school,’ said her mother, as they walked away.
    â€˜What about it?’
    â€˜About you, about Marion Murphy, about lying down in front of the machines when they come.’
    â€˜Jack says he’ll do it with me,’ said Jessie.
    â€˜Did he now? Well, he’s a fine boy. I like him more every day, and so does your dad, but no one’s going to lie down in front of anything. No one’s going to get hurt. I’ll find a way without that. I’m not going to give up, that’s for sure.’ They walked on in silence for a while. ‘I’m so proud of you, Jess, you know that?’ she said. ‘So pleased you’re on my side.’
    â€˜What about Dad?’
    â€˜Oh, he’ll come round.’ She smiled and put her arm round Jessie’s shoulders. ‘Give him time.’
    â€˜Only if you talk to him, Mum,’ said Jessie. ‘You’ve got to talk. Jack’s mum and dad – he says it all started with shouting first of all, and then no one talked. And she just went off.’
    â€˜Listen, Jess, I’m not leaving. And your dad’s not leaving either. He’s dug his heels in over this, and so have I, that’s all. We’re both just doing what we think is right. I don’t love him any the less, I promise. What he doesn’t seem to understand just yet, is that I’m right. He still thinks he is. I have to persuade him that he’s wrong, and that’s never easy with anyone. I can promise you this though, Jess: there’ll be no blood on the carpet when it’s over. Believe me?’
    Jessie said she did, but there was still an aching worry inside her that would not go away.
    Jack came back at dusk, happy as a sandboy. He’d spent half the day with his head and hands deep inside Clatterbang’s engine, and the rest of the time he’d been coaching the ‘Pirates’ – that was what the Clare Island baseball team now grandly called themselves. He was full of smiles as he threw himself breathless on to the sofa. ‘The guys want some gloves and a real ball. I’m going to get Dad to send them over. They want Yankee caps like mine, too. What do you think? Can I call home?’
    When he came back into the room some minutes later, all the light had gone from his eyes. He barely touched his peanut butter sandwiches. Jessie found herself talking nineteen to the dozen, just to cover up the silence round the table. In the end she ran out of things to say, so she asked Jack about the phone call.
    â€˜Is your dad sending them then, the gloves and things?’ Jack nodded, but he didn’t even look up.
    At last her father spoke up. ‘I tell you what, how would you two like to come fishing tomorrow? Bit too much of a swell for the boat. We’ll try the rocks. There’s mackerel about and bass. Have you ever done any fishing, Jack?’
    â€˜Some.’
    â€˜That’s settled then. After school tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.’
    All through school the next day, Jack hardly spoke to anyone. In playtime, in spite of all Marion’s begging and badgering, he left Marion and Liam and the Pirates to their training, and went to sit by himself on the wall. Jessie joined him.
    â€˜You all right?’ Jessie asked.
    â€˜My Dad’s sick, really sick,’ Jack said quietly. ‘He sounded really bad on the phone. He’s going to have surgery. It’s because I lost my arrowhead. I know it.’
    â€˜What’s he got?’ Jessie asked.
    â€˜Something’s wrong with his heart. He said he needs a new valve.’
    â€˜That’s nothing,’ said Jessie. ‘My gran had that, and she’s