Just in Case by Meg Rosoff Read Free Book Online Page B

win. So he took the coat and slipped it on. Boy sniffed it and growled, smelling goat, as Agnes clicked off a series of shots: Justin Embarrassed. Justin Startled. Justin Angry.
    Justin turned away from the flash.
    ‘Excellent,’ Agnes murmured, taking his arm and steering him back out to the main road towards a tiny, rundown Indian restaurant with flashing fairy lights in the window. ‘Now let’s celebrate.’
    Through the supple skin of the sleeve, the pressure of her fingers caused him to shiver.

16
    Justin wore his new coat like a second skin. It protected him, kept him warm, yet was eccentric enough to satisfy his new identity. Inside it he felt safe, and he took it off only to sleep or run, activities that increasingly consumed his days and nights.
    Peter had been right about running. It wasn’t long before pleasure began to dominate pain. Justin had never considered himself athletic, but now, having offered encouragement to his lungs and limbs, they rose like Titans on the field of battle.
    My Body! he thought gratefully. It works!
    Often when he ran he lost touch with his physical limitations and began to cruise, aligning his heartbeat to the beat of his feet on tarmac. How could he not have known this was possible?
    He wasn’t particularly competitive. What he liked was the steady, reassuring tempo that regulated the surges of anxiety in his brain. Tick tock tick tock. His body fell into the mechanical rhythm of an old-fashioned alarm clock.
    The more he ran, the less like David Justin felt.
    These aspects of running were lost on Coach, who merely shouted at his team with increased resignation as competition loomed.
    On a grim Tuesday afternoon in late October, six schools’ worth of shivering boys huddled in a drizzle awaiting the starter’s signal. Justin had invited Agnes to attend, in a way that made clear how little difference it would make to him whether she did or didn’t, and how little he expected her to.
    As he approached the start, something caused him to look up. Following the direction of a hundred other pairs of eyes, he turned to see Agnes walk towards them under a huge lilac umbrella covered in bright polka dots, her feet steady on the soggy turf in a pair of green rubber knee-high wellies, her camera bag swinging from one shoulder. The rest of her was shrink-wrapped in what looked like cellophane. She looked preposterous. Sublime.
    The entire event paused as Agnes made her way across the field to the makeshift wooden observers’ stand. On arrival, she furled her umbrella and sat, to a ripple of spontaneous applause. She smiled at Justin and pulled her Nikon from the camera bag, followed by a single white glove. She waved the glove in the direction of the team.
    Peter waved back happily. Justin turned away to hide the expression on his face.
    Collecting its scattered wits, the meet continued.
    *
    Justin had no recollection of the starting gun. When next he noticed the outside world, he was running, or at least his body was. He was intrigued to discover that his feet came with cruise control. He didn’t have to think about what he was doing, just set them on ‘fast’ and they ran.
    Boy bounded ahead in a playful mood. Occasionally he would stop to look back at the seething, panting mass of boys with something like pity.
    Perhaps you people should stick to something at which you excel , said the look.
    Then he would fly off again, his body airborne for most of the length of his stride. He ran joyous circles around the leaders, accelerated to a mile a minute for the pure fun of it, crossed the finish line to the sound of his own ovation, spun around and returned to Justin’s side, where he slowed to an encouraging canter. Beneath the aristocratic condescension of his breed, he was kind.
    Directly to Justin’s left and a few metres ahead ran Peter Prince. He turned back and glanced at Justin, falling off the pace slightly as he did. Justin barely noticed. At the halfway mark, his mind was