Crow Boy by Philip Caveney Read Free Book Online Page B

twenty-first.
    He sighed and turned out his pockets. He found a crumpled five pound note, which he’d been given in order to buy some lunch, a few assorted coins, a key to his parents’ house in Manchester (Hamish hadn’t gotten around to giving him a key for the house in Fairmilehead yet), a grubby paper tissue, and a cardboard box containing two blister packs of antibiotic pills. He’d forgotten he had them; they’d been prescribed months ago for a suspected ear infection, which had cleared up the moment he’d started taking them, so only two pills were missing. They’d been in his pocket ever since. Typically, Mum hadn’t even bothered to check the pockets when she’d sewn the new school badge on. He put them down with the other things and stared at them dismally, telling himself that this was all he had left in the world and none of it was any use to him – he wouldn’t even be able to spend the money. He gave a grunt of disgust and crammed the items back into his pocket.
    Just then, his attention was caught by a sudden scuffling noise in the far corner of the room. He turned his head to look and was horrified to see a sleek grey shape scuttling along the base of the wall. A rat, bigger than he could ever have imagined. He suppressed a shudder and got quickly up from the bed. He’d never been fond of rats, even though his experience of them had mostly been confined to films he’d seen and horror stories he’d read. This one was for real and, frankly, way too close for comfort. Without hesitation, he hurried across the room to the staircase and went down, three steps at a time.

Six

    In the kitchen, Missie Grierson was still issuing instructions to her orphan workforce. When Tom came in, she studied him doubtfully.
    â€˜Settled in, are ye?’ she asked him.
    â€˜Not really,’ he told her. ‘You’ve got rats up there.’
    This remark seemed to puzzle her. ‘So?’ she murmured.
    â€˜Well, I’m not being funny, but . . . that’s not right, is it? Rats . . . in a bedroom. That’s mingin ’. ’
    Now she took her pipe from her mouth and gave an odd snickering laugh.
    â€˜And how would you propose I keep them out?’ she asked. ‘Send them a strongly worded letter? Rats is rats, son. They go wherever they’ve a mind to.’
    â€˜Yeah, but you need to get rid of ‘em! What about all the plague that’s around the Close? Don’t you know that rats spread it?’
    Now she looked quite bewildered and Tom realised why. Seventeenth-century people would have had no idea about the causes of bubonic plague. What was it that Agnes Chambers had told the class? They believed it was spread by a miasma – bad air – which was why Doctor Rae always wore that mask, the beak of which was stuffed with flowers and herbs.
    â€˜I never heard tell of such a thing,’ said Missie Grierson. ‘Rats are everywhere. If they spread the plague, then the good Lord help us all.’
    â€˜It’s not just the rats,’ Tom assured her. ‘It’s the fleas, too.’
    â€˜The fleas?’
    â€˜Yes. The fleas feed on the rats and then they bite the people and . . .’ He broke off at the sounds of laughter from behind him and he saw that Morag and Alison were chuckling as though he’d just told a joke. ‘It’s not funny,’ he protested. ‘It’s what really happens. It’s how plague is caused.’
    â€˜The fleas bite the rats!’ sang Alison.
    â€˜The rats bite the people!’ joined in Morag.
    â€˜We all fall down!’ added Alison.
    Tom glared at them and their laughter faded away.
    â€˜I’m being deadly serious,’ he told them. ‘It’s not meant to be funny.’
    Missie Grierson seemed to dismiss the matter. ‘I’ve no doubt there’s lots of strange ideas being bandied about across the border,’ she said.