Free Crossfire by James Moloney Page B

her office which could not be abandoned, and of course Sally had to work too. Finally, Belinda struck upon the solution, and after a brief phone call it was settled. Luke was to travel to his grandparents’ house in the western suburbs of the city. They were, of course, his father’s parents. Since the divorce, Luke had seen little of them despite their frequent begging phone calls that he be allowed to come and stay with them during the holidays. It was quite an adventure to get to their house — Luke would have to take a suburban train. Belinda helped him pack a bag, then saw him to the local train station. He had to find his way into the city centre then change trains and travel almost to the end of the line, where his grandparents met him.
    Luke was untidily stuffing his clothes into the chest of drawers in his grandparents’ spare room when he heard the phone ring and wondered if it was Belinda checking to see that he had arrived. He slid his carry-all under the bed and drew back the curtain to survey the yard outside. He was still peering through the window, assessing his chances of climbing the mulberry tree near the back fence when his grandmother, Gwen Aldridge, popped her head into his room. ‘That was your father on the phone, Luke. He’s coming round to have tea with us tonight. He’ll be here quite soon, in fact.’
    â€˜That’s great,’ said Luke, and he meant it.
    Luke did climb the mulberry tree, clambering as high as the branches would support him and cursing the thorny texture of the bark. From near the top he could look down on his grandparents’ house. They had moved here ten years ago, when their old house, not far from where Luke now lived, was bought by a company keen to build a supermarket. The house was very small, and from high in the tree, the sorry state of the corrugated iron roof was easy to see. An ancient coat of red paint had almost completely peeled and worn away, leaving broad patches of angry rust, and the guttering was missing all along one side. Grandad must be too old to climb up there any more. I could paint it for him, thought Luke. I’m not scared of heights, and maybe Dad could help fix the guttering. Dad probably hasn’t noticed.
    Luke stayed in the tree, enjoying the cool breeze and the panorama of the neighbourhood observed as only the birds would know it. His father’s panel van pulled into the yard and made a full circle around the clothesline as the old couple came out to greet him. Luke called to the three of them from his vantage point and delighted in the surprise on their faces as they stared up at him.
    â€˜Luke, be careful,’ called his grandmother. ‘If you fall you could kill yourself.’
    â€˜Don’t worry, Grandma, I know what I’m doing.’
    â€˜That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be up there,’ his grandmother shouted back. There was a mixture of fear and annoyance in her voice — and a little of something else as well. She was embarrassed in front of her own son that she had let her grandson put himself at risk, however mildly.
    Wayne didn’t care. ‘Oh Mum, you were always telling me not to climb trees, but you could never keep me out of them, specially mulberry trees. During the season I’d be covered in mulberry stains from head to toe. God, didn’t you tell me off, but I’d go climbing again regardless.’
    Wayne’s mother smiled at this, laughing more at herself than the situation. ‘I suppose you’re right, Wayne. We never did stop you doing exactly what you wanted to. It never mattered what we thought.’ Looking up at Luke, so proud of himself in the tree, she added: ‘Maybe your son will be the same. Alison will have a hard time with him if he is.’
    Luke began to climb down. He was conscious of the eyes of the other three upon him but he felt free and confident. He enjoyed their anxiety, grinning to himself as