Curtis didn’t care; he was studying her extra-long legs, broad shoulders, long neck. ‘She’s pregnant,’ he said.

I knew he didn’t mean the skipping girl. ‘No fuckin’ way.’

‘You watchin’?’ Mum called.

‘Yeah.’

He rested his arms on his knees, dropped his head.

‘When … what?’

‘I dunno. She just told me.’

‘She might be makin’ it up.’

‘Na, I don’t reckon. We’ve been doin’ it a lot.’

‘Like?’

‘Her mum starts work at six, so I’ve been goin’ over before school, then at lunch, in the toilets, afterwards … lots.’

I checked for Les. Nothing. ‘What you gonna do?’

‘Get rid of it. She says, I need a few days to think about it, and I say, What’s to think about? And she says, It’s my body and my decision, and I say, You reckon?’

‘She wants to have it?’

No more skipping woman. The afternoon had settled. The same as always: trees, dog, bird on power line. But to Curtis, everything had changed.

‘If you need help, money …’

‘I’m not havin’ a kid.’

‘Just tell her: an abortion, or you deal with it. It’s your kid, too.’

‘Fuck, don’t say that. There’s not actually a kid yet.’

‘Well, after a few weeks it’s got arms and legs.’

‘Shut up!’

So I did. But then said, ‘Your mum’d freak out.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And what about yer dad?’

He decided. ‘It’s simple, eh? It’s gotta go. None of this few days to think about it, eh?’

‘Exactly.’

‘We’re goin’ to the doctor.’ And he thought. ‘Gotta find one Mum and Dad don’t use.’

‘There’s a clinic in the city. Bailey told us about it, remember?’

‘Of course.’ His face glowed with possibility. ‘I’ll go see her now.’

‘Don’t let her talk you round.’

Mum stood behind us. ‘Clem!’

I checked the street. Les had emerged, and stood watering his petunias. A few feet away, Wendy, and her shopping, hiding behind a camellia.

‘I ask you to do one thing.’

‘I’ve been watching all morning. It’s not my job.’

‘Ssh!’ She leaned forward, waved, as though Wendy might see. ‘Wait a minute,’ she whispered.

‘She’s not gonna hear you,’ I said.

‘Well, what do you suggest?’

‘I got an idea,’ Curtis said. He took Mum by the arm, led her out to the lounge, and told her what to do. I stayed in my spot, watching. Then Curtis ran across to Les. A muffle of words. Les switched off the hose and they walked towards Lanark I. Mum darted across the road, basket in hand, gathered Wendy from her plant and whisked her inside.

Curtis saw it was clear and returned Les to his hose, still leaking on the lawn. I heard him say, ‘So that’s a magpie, eh?’

‘I don’t keep them. No one does. You see my lorikeets, you tell me.’

And he continued.

Curtis turned to me, smiled and said, ‘Will do, Les. They can’ta just flown away, eh?’

‘No.’