In My Wildest Dreams by Leslie Thomas Read Free Book Online Page B

fiendish sadism peculiar to small children: 'You can come, and you, but you can't, nor you . . .' The lucky party-goers were given instructions to appear at five o'clock at our front door in their best clothes, and bringing with them a plate, knife, fork, spoon and cup and saucer.
    Now I was really in it. As the school clock hours went by I desperately tried to think up a plan. I dared not tell my mother about my birthday party because we hardly had enough to put on our own plates. When I got home I found I had a birthday present, a bar of chocolate. That was a start anyway. I hung about outside the house until my five or six favoured guests arrived and, somewhat to their surprise, I announced that since it was a nice day for March we were going to have the party out of doors. They sat down on the path and the front door step and I gave them each a square of chocolate and a cup of water. My powers of persuasion must have been immense because, not withstanding the paucity of the feast, I promised them organised games to follow and suggested that it was in order to sing 'Happy Birthday To You'.
    They did, the tinny voices attracting my mother who came to the door as they got to 'Happy birthday, dear Leslie, Happy birthday to you!'
    She sent them off home and then sat in the front room howling into her hands while I stood mystified. Only a few years ago, just before they demolished the houses, I climbed the hill to Maple Avenue again. On the step of Number 16 was a toddler, sitting, apparently stunned as toddlers often do, staring into space. He looked like somebody left over from that party so many years ago.
    Not having very much is a great provoker of envy. The boy next door had found sixpence and the story spread with the speed of jealousy around the neighbourhood children. The green eye flickered within me when he showed the little silver coin and told me, and a number of others assembled, how he proposed to expend this wealth. When I next went shopping for my mother, across a muddy quarry to a low street where the crouching corner shop showed its lights, I fell to temptation and shame which I have never forgotten. The shop was kept by a kindly and confused man who would even give credit. My mother once sent me to him with a list of groceries and instructions that the fact that we had no money to pay should be concealed until the ultimate moment, when the purchases were already, so to speak, in the bag. I was very worried about this but I carried out the plan only to be confronted with his aghast face when the credit was suggested. 'I can't do that, sonny' he said. 'I'd have to ask the missus.' The missus it turned out was in another shop several miles away and I was dispatched there on foot, with a medallion of his as a token to show that I had already seen the husband. I cannot remember whether we got our groceries, to be paid for next week, but whether we did or not the man's kindliness was ill-repaid by the small boy who again approached his crowded counter having just seen that desirable sixpence lying in his neighbour's hand.
    As I stood there waiting to be served, while the shopkeeper was getting confused by the demands of half a dozen people, I became aware that on the counter, its milled edge shining at the level of my eyes, was a half-a-crown. It was grand larceny. I had never seen so much stray money, so temptingly close. Before I realised what I was about my hand snaked up and into my pocket thudded the heavy coin. I left the shop, having calmly made my purchases and preserved a criminally straight face while the poor man searched pathetically for the lost money. Mean and triumphant I went home, pausing only to boast to the boy next door that I had found five times as much as his miserable sixpence. The loot sat on my hand, a silver miracle. Like a cat my mother pounced on it.
    'Where did yon find this?' she asked, giving me the credit of having come by it honestly or needing, at least, to keep her own conscience