“All right, if it’s compliments you want . . . Well . . . You’re a lanky lass, that’s true. But you’re coming along quite nicely now.”

His eyes drifted to the front of my duffel coat. “You know, fattening up in all the right places.”

I was speechless. I whirled round and started walking very fast up the path.

I heard Cain shout to his dog, “Come on then, Dog, enough of these lasses.”

Just as I got to the bend that led to the village, he called out, “See you later, Lullah. I’ll be around. . . . Wait for me. It’ll be worth it. You know that really.”

I was so shaken up and confused.

He had actually said I was “fattening up.” Like a pig.

I was so angry with him I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Him and his dog.

Why doesn’t he go out with his dog?

And they could live in a bog.

Or under a log.

He thinks he’s er . . . gog.

No, not gog. God.

I’m going to think of a rap about Cain. It will be my secret artistic revenge on the Dark Black Crow of Heckmondwhite.

When I got to Dandelion Cottage, I couldn’t bear to talk to anyone so I said to the Dobbinses I’d got a headache and went off to bed.

In my squirrel room, writing in my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary. I can’t sleep, so I’ve been working on my rap, or performance poem, as I like to call it. Cain gave me a poem so I’ve got one for him.

You’re like a dog

Who lives in a bog

You lurk in the dark

You’re a shark

Not a lark

You’ve got a bone for a heart

So go dig a hole

And hide like a mole

Cos remember they shoot goats, don’t they?

Aye

Rastafari.

I must have dozed off but when I woke up it was pitch-black outside and I could hear an owl hooting in the distance. It sounded lovely and lonely at the same time. Swooping around in its kingdom. Looking down into the night.

King (or Queen) of the Night.

I wonder if that’s why Cain likes them so much.

He’ll be up there on the moors somewhere, all dark and wild and on his own.

And here I am on my own.

But he likes being on his own and I don’t. I like being in a gang. I’ve been on my own too much. But—oh, I don’t know.

He’s got the right amount of lip

THE NEXT THING I knew the bells were ringing for church on Sunday morning. I felt tired but I think my Inner Woman has grown a bit since yesterday. Dibdobs popped her head round my door to see if I felt better and to go foraging with the Cubs and Brownie packs. I said I did feel better but I was going to work on my ideas for college.