“What’s larks?” asked Kenny, who’d just burst into the kitchen.

“A lark is a bird,” I said.

I was good on birds. I knew what a lark was and what it looked like from pictures in books, but I’d never seen one in real life.

“Aye, that’s right,” Dad said. “They used to be dead common in the fields round here, but you don’t see ’em any more.”

“Why not?” Kenny asked. “Did someone kill ’em all?” Kenny may not have known what a lark was, but he loved animals and hated the thought of hurting them.

“Eh?” Dad said. “No, not really. The farmers changed the way they do things, so there’s not as much for the larks to eat, especially in the winter. But back then, in spring and summer, you’d be walking down the lanes and all around you the larks would be shooting up straight into the sky like little brown fireworks. They’d sing their hearts out as they climbed – the dads showing off to the mams.”

I looked at Kenny. His eyes were shining as he saw the larks soaring up into the blue sky of his mind. He loved fireworks more than anything. He was probably imagining the larks with sparks flying out of their arses.

So that’s when we decided we’d go for a day up on the moors. Dad helped us plan it all out. “I know just the place to go,” he said. We found it on Google Maps, and Dad printed it out. But the ink was running out, so the map was faded and blurry. We had to catch three buses to get there, changing at York and then at Thirsk. I liked the idea of getting three buses. It made it seem more like an adventure.

“You get off the last bus here,” Dad said as he pointed it out on the map laid on the kitchen table. “There’s a nice little lane.” His finger traced a line that curved across the fields, joining up two villages. “It’s only a couple of miles. There’ll be shops and stuff there if you need extra supplies.” He jabbed again at the map. “You can pick up the bus back home from here.”

We had to set off early, or we’d never get there and back in a day. My dad worked nights, wheeling sick people around on trolleys at the hospital. We’d have to get going before he got home. Normally, Jenny would have been there to help us sort everything out, but she was working shifts, too. So that morning it was just me and Kenny.

He’d woken up when it was still dark, the way he always did when something good was going to happen.