Writing in the Sand by Helen Brandom Read Free Book Online

starts to subside, so I decide to forget it and draw an oval in the sand. I give it eyes and a nose, then the mouth. Now some hair and ears, flat to the head. Toffee puffs around. I keep pushing him away from my work of art. I look at it. It’s the best I can do for now. To be honest, I’m a rubbish artist. I brush sand off the stick. Slowly, carefully, I write LIAM . For a second I stare at it, then promise myself it’s the last time I’ll do this.
    â€œWhat does that say?”
    My heart lurches. It’s Shaun. I hadn’t heard him creep up on me. “Hey, you made me jump!”
    He says, “Why’s that?”
    â€œI didn’t know you were on the beach.”
    Toffee, wagging his tail in wild circles, tries to get at the plastic bag Shaun’s holding. Shaun raises his arm, keeping the bag out of Toffee’s reach. He jerks his head towards the cliffs. “I came down from the top,” he says. Which amazes me because it’s practically a sheer drop that must have landed him between a stretch of rock pools and Croppers Rock.
    â€œWhat? You slid down that?”
    Shaun doesn’t seem to think this is anything much. Telling him he’s lucky not to have two broken legs, I shove my toe into the sand and scrub out LIAM.
    When he says, “What did that say?” most of his attention is still on Toffee and he sounds only half interested.
    â€œNothing, really.”
    â€œIt must’ve said something.”
    So he is interested. “Didn’t you see?”
    He says, “No.”
    My laugh is too loud. “Len – it said Len .”
    â€œWho’s Len?”
    â€œMy grandad.” (My grandads, both dead before I was born, were Ted and Maurice.)
    He says, “Have you got a gran?”
    â€œI did have. Nana Kathleen, Mum’s mum. But she died four years ago.” The familiar pang hits me as I realize for the thousandth time how much Mum and I miss her. She was everything to us. I think how different things would be if she was still alive. How she’d be dealing with Lisa.
    She loved both us girls to bits, but she was firm with Lisa in a way Mum never is. It’s always felt like Mum’s scared of Lisa, scared she’ll take offence. When she was just a kid, Lisa would threaten to run away. She’d yell, “Then you’ll all be sorry !” and go to the door – to make sure it wasn’t raining. Nana Kathleen didn’t stand for any of her nonsense. “What’re you going to do for money?” she’d say, and watch Lisa stomp up to our room.
    I bring myself back to the present, point to the dunes – a signal to Toffee that we’re going home. I smile at Shaun. “See you later.”
    Deadpan, he says, “When? How much later?”
    â€œI don’t mean anything definite. I mean I’ll see you sometime. Like I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
    Suddenly I want to be at home with Mum. I’ve hurried a little way off when Shaun calls out, “Amy!”
    I turn round. He’s following me, dangling the plastic bag. Mr Kelly’s lettuces! I think of the cake for Mum at the bottom, turning to crumbs. “Thanks, Shaun.”
    He says, “See you later then.”
    Was that a smile? If it was, it must have been meant for Toffee.

Chapter Seven
    Monday morning, and Mum gives me the Found – Brown dog note she’s written for the post office window. “You can ask Mrs Goodge to copy it onto a card for you,” she says. This makes me feel really down. I’d been thinking she feels like me – that Toffee is here to stay, that it’s not entering our heads he might belong to someone else. It’s not like we enticed him, even found him. He found us, and any fool can see he wants to stay.
    There won’t be time to take the card to the post office before school. I’ll go on my way home at lunchtime.
    I settle Mum in the kitchen, with stuff