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Chapters (62)
  1. Title
  2. Copyright
  3. Contents
  4. About the Author
  5. About the Book
  6. Dedication
  7. Your Worst Nightmare
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. The Answer to All Your Prayers
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. THIRTEEN
  22. FOURTEEN
  23. FIFTEEN
  24. SIXTEEN
  25. SEVENTEEN
  26. EIGHTEEN
  27. NINETEEN
  28. TWENTY
  29. TWENTY-ONE
  30. TWENTY-TWO
  31. TWENTY-THREE
  32. TWENTY-FOUR
  33. TWENTY-FIVE
  34. TWENTY-SIX
  35. TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. TWENTY-NINE
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. Somebody Else’s Child
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. FORTY
  50. FORTY-ONE
  51. FORTY-TWO
  52. FORTY-THREE
  53. FORTY-FOUR
  54. FORTY-FIVE
  55. FORTY-SIX
  56. FORTY-SEVEN
  57. FORTY-EIGHT
  58. FORTY-NINE
  59. Sunlight on Water
  60. July
  61. September
  62. Acknowledgements

He feels his bedroom here is like that imagined sanctuary, high up and isolated with a view of birds. Not so many birds, and they’re not bluebirds, but swallows, jackdaws, crows, sparrows, kites and kestrels. Grandpa’s been teaching him how to tell the difference between them all, even from far off, and Evan’s read A Kestrel for a Knave, about Billy Casper – a youth about his own age – who found and trained a bird of prey. If Evan could do that, nothing would make him happier. What a great thing it would be, to have a wild creature as a companion, to set the bird free and have it come back to you . . .

The Freelander pulls up in front of the house. For a while nothing happens, and Evan can see Grandma and Grandpa sitting in the front seats, looking out, not speaking, watching swallows dip and loop over the rose garden. Then Grandpa reaches over, puts his arm round Grandma’s shoulder and kisses the top of her head, a gesture so affectionate Evan feels a lump rise in his throat.

Grandpa gets out of the car and walks round it to open the door for Grandma. He holds out his hand to her as she gets out, and they walk slowly into the house arm in arm, Grandma making them stop to admire one of her rose bushes which is bowing under blush-pink blooms. Once they’re in the house, Evan can hear the sound of the kettle boiling and the rattle of teacups, familiar noises he finds comforting. In a few minutes he hears the stairs creak, footsteps on the landing and a light knock at his door.

‘Are you there, young man?’

Grandpa’s voice.

Evan leaves the window and crosses to the door, where he lifts away the chair under the handle. A part of him remains cautious, and he opens the door just a crack at first, keeping his foot against it in case of the unexpected or the unwelcome, needing to be sure it is Grandpa, and that Grandpa is alone.

Jack’s there with Evan’s favourite mug – gold-rimmed with an airborne Spitfire – filled with sweet, milky tea, and on a flowered side-plate, a buttered cherry scone.

‘Permission to board, Captain,’ he says, and Evan smiles and gives a mock salute and steps back to let him pass, but he’s unable to resist looking up and down the landing to check for unwanted visitors. He closes the door against intruders who aren’t there.

Jack puts the tea and scone down on the bedside table.

‘Your grandma thought you’d like a bit of something,’ he says, sitting down on the bed. ‘Just to put you on until tea-time. She’ll no doubt be thinking you might starve between now and then. Women, eh?’ He pats the bed beside him, encouraging Evan to sit, but Evan’s wary. Instead, he sits down on the chair at the door.