White Crow by Marcus Sedgwick Read Free Book Online Page B

the word?’
    ‘The word you’re thinking of is bohemian.’
    ‘Yes, that’s it.’
    ‘But it isn’t. It’s a hole.’
    Ferelith falls silent again, and Rebecca hunts for something to say.
    Almost accidentally, she hits the right thing.
    ‘This place is nice,’ she says, meaning the pub. And it is, it’s old world Englishness, the real thing, not reconstructed to look like it by some marketing men. ‘But the name is so weird.’
    Ferelith lights up.
    ‘It’s brilliant, isn’t it?’
    ‘I’ve heard of pubs called the The Angel, but The Devil, too? That’s odd.’
    ‘It’s . . . uncommon,’ she says, and grins. Then she leans in close to Rebecca and utters in a mock stage whisper, ‘But do you want to know the truth behind the name? Yes? Do you dare hear the truth?’
    ‘Ooh, Stop it, you’re scaring me,’ says Rebecca, playing along. Then she forces herself to look serious. ‘Very well. Do your worst! Tell me the awful and horrible truth behind it all!’
    Ferelith nods.
    Rebecca sees something flicker in her friend’s dark eyes, but she cannot tell what it is. Ferelith puts her hand on Rebecca’s, and their eyes meet.
    ‘Okay,’ she says, glancing at the others by the bar. ‘But not here. There’s somewhere better we can go.’

The Warning
    I was glad to get out of the pub, anyway.
    I could see Melanie was up for making trouble, and on another day I might have enjoyed it, but I was thinking about Rebecca. I could see Tom Halter and his mates looking at her too often, as well.
    It was still hot, so we took the dog track beside the woods, past St Mary’s again.
    ‘You’re right,’ Rebecca said, pausing at the churchyard gate.
    I said, ‘I usually am,’ or some similarly lame thing. ‘But what about, this time?’
    ‘The church is better at night.’
    I nodded. She was reading the words on the tape across the path. She tutted.
    ‘You probably don’t want to look at that either, then,’ I said, pointing at the ‘Danger: Keep Out’ sign just inside the gate.
    She read it.
    ‘Yes, well, “entering the site” very probably is “liable to lead to injury and the danger of death.” You know, I seem to remember we danced on the altar. Isn’t that . . . what’s the word?’
    ‘Blasphemous?’
    ‘Yes. Isn’t that blasphemous?’
    ‘Well, I don’t know the exact rules, but I would think they probably include dancing on altars in the list of bad things. But then, I think it really depends on whether you believe in God. Don’t you?’
    Rebecca didn’t say anything. She seemed thoughtful, and I let her have her thoughts. For a while at least.
    I went on along the path round the far end of the churchyard, and she followed.
    She asked me if I believed in God.
    ‘I asked first,’ I said.
    ‘No, you didn’t,’ she said, and we argued, until she gave in.
    ‘I’m not sure,’ she said eventually. ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’
    ‘That’s it?’ I asked. ‘All that fuss for “I’ve never really thought about it?”’
    She said she was just being honest, then she asked me again if I believed in God. I looked at the crucifix around her neck before answering, trying to think how to reply.
    ‘What do you think?’ I said eventually, and walked off.
    ‘That’s not fair,’ she said. ‘That’s not a proper answer.’
    Then we argued about that for a bit until I think she forgot that she hadn’t had an answer at all.
    I asked her if she had a boyfriend back in London.
    What she said was funny.
    No, what she did was funny.
    ‘Yes,’ she said, but she took forever to say it. Then there was another pause and I think she expected me to say something. I didn’t, I just waited for her to talk again.
    ‘He’s called Adam.’
    I thought about Adam. I had a picture of him in my head straight away, though I knew nothing about him. But I could see him. I knew the type, just a stupid dull boy, like Tom and his mates in the pub. She didn’t need him. I mean Rebecca didn’t