STONES

The baby was supposed to come three days ago. ‘D-Day,’ Dad called it.

Mum’s been counting the days off on the kitchen calendar with a big red pen; she’s not been well so the doctors put her on ‘bed rest’ last month and it’s driving her absolutely bananas. I breathe in the warm summer air, watching a flock of noisy swifts flit and swoop in the clear blue sky. I wouldn’t be able to stand it either, being stuck inside in summer, not able to do anything fun at all. It’ll be worth it in the end though. A little tingle creeps up my spine; soon I’ll have a brother or a sister, and everything will change.

The light has that golden tinge now and the shadows are stretched. I take a smooth pebble out of my pocket. Squinting up at the Spirit Stone, I move the pebble back and forward in the air, taking aim at the Spirit Stone’s pointy peak.

Beaky sits up on her elbows to watch. I fling the pebble; it arcs up and over the Spirit Stone.

‘Missed!’ calls Beaky, flopping back down.

‘Don’t eat stones, Nero!’ shouts Lamont as his dog charges off to find the pebble. Seconds later Nero’s back, crunching away.

‘Wow! He really listens to you, Lamont,’ I say, in fake admiration.

‘Shut up,’ says Lamont, wheedling the pebble out from Nero’s jaws. ‘Do you want this back? Maybe add it to your collection?’

I laugh. ‘No thanks. You can keep it, Lamont.’

‘It’s not just a collection, it’s Mandel Museum!’ says Beaky in a posh voice.

‘I haven’t called it that since we were in Year Two, Beaky!’ I protest, laughing.

She ignores me. ‘And that slobbery old stone’s not quite weird enough. What’s it going to look like next to the badger skull, and the arrowhead and the bird’s nest, and the …’ Beaky lies there and lists all the things I’ve collected from the forest since we were little. Her eyes are shut and her long red hair is spread out on the grass. Lamont balances Nero’s wet pebble on her forehead. Beaky shuts up, sits up and thumps him. I laugh again.

The evening sun is warm on my face. Shutting my eyes, I stroke Nero’s silky soft ears. I sigh. I really ought to go home. Check on Mum. See if I’ve got a brother yet … or a sister.

‘I’m off,’ I say, standing up. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘… for your birrrthdaaay!’ sings Beaky. ‘I can’t wait! D’you think you’ll finally get a phone, Charlie?’

‘Maybe,’ I say, crossing my fingers behind my back.

‘Are we still camping out tomorrow night?’ asks Lamont.

‘Of course we are,’ answers Beaky, before I even have a chance to think about it. Nero wags his tail like he’s in agreement.

I pat Nero’s black head. ‘I guess it depends on the baby.’ My shrug turns into a little shiver of excitement.

‘Maybe baby!’ grins Beaky, nudging me in the ribs.