Lamb by Bernard Maclaverty Read Free Book Online

tracks.’
    The boy stared at them. Michael watched.
    â€˜No, Brother, they couldn’t be eagle tracks. They’re too small and anyway . . . ’ The boy looked to Michael for help.
    â€˜Are you contradicting me, O’Halloran?’ The voice was loud and rising in mock anger.
    â€˜No, Brother.’
    â€˜Good. Now tell Brother Sebastian what they are.’
    â€˜They are eagle tracks,’ said the boy quietly.
    â€˜Very good, O’Halloran. Another lesson well learnt. Now off you go about your business.’ Brother Benedict chuckled and rolled his eyes at Michael.
    The incident left a bad taste in Michael’s mouth although at the time he did not say anything. In later games like this Michael had seen boys turn insolent and Benedict would become genuinely angry and end by thrashing them. He was the only man in a mock battle who had live ammunition.

Five
    When they arrived in London they sat in the huge station not knowing what to do, as people rushed in every direction as if certain where they were going.
    â€˜First things first,’ said Michael. ‘If we’re going to stay in a hotel you can’t go in looking like a Dublin jackeen. Let’s walk for a bit and see if we can’t get you a new rig-out.’
    Owen carried the bag, putting his arms through the straps and hoisting it on to his back like a school bag. He leaned forward, an old man beneath his burden.
    Eventually they found a large department store. Michael sat outside the changing cubicle while Owen tried on denim trousers and a jacket. Michael remembered the state of the boy’s underwear and rushed off to buy him some. But he didn’t know the size.
    â€˜What size of drawers for a boy of twelve?’ he asked the girl behind the counter.
    â€˜Draus?’
    â€˜Yes, drawers. These.’ He held up a pair of Y-fronts. She told him. He took two pairs and two vests and a few pairs of socks. The assistant offered him a wire basket and he piled the things into it. When he got back Owen was standing in front of a mirror, turning and admiring himself.
    â€˜The new man,’ said Michael whistling. Owen seemed shy for the first time since Michael had known him, and coloured.
    â€˜Do they fit?’ Owen nodded. ‘Right let’s have them.’
    â€˜We could nick them easy,’ said Owen. ‘Just walk out and leave the oul’ ones there.’
    â€˜I’ve got money,’ said Michael, a warning in his voice.
    Michael bought him a pair of sensible shoes and a classy pair of training shoes, white with three blue stripes.
    He thought that if the boy changed in the shop they might be stopped as shoplifters, even though he had the receipts. Attention of that sort was the last thing he wanted, so they found the nearest public toilet and Owen changed into his new gear. Michael felt nervous hanging about the toilet so he washed his hands slowly and thoroughly. He had heard things about London toilets and did not want Owen to be there on his own.
    Owen came out of the cubicle carrying his old clothes in the new carrier bag. On the street outside they laughed and stuffed it into the black mouth of a waste bin.
    â€˜You look very grown up,’ said Michael. Owen smiled and exaggerated his swagger so that it looked almost deformed.
    â€˜Are the shoes too tight?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Then walk properly,’ said Michael. ‘Cowboys are out of fashion.’ Owen laughed and punched him hard on the side. Michael put on an American accent.
    â€˜Man, I could use a beef-steak. What about you, son?’
    â€˜With chips?’
    â€˜Yeah, man. With chips.’
    During the meal there was silence between them, apart from Michael interpreting the menu for the boy as best he could. It was something that Michael had not quite got used to yet, this silence. Owen seemed to control it, to clam up whenever he wanted to. It was as if talk was irksome to him and he would