Chapter 11

ESME AND DOG clung to each other; it was wonderful to be free, but scary too. Above the high brick walls behind the shop, the sky showed wide and blue. The sight of all that space and light made Dog feel giddy; she wanted to gaze up at it, but there was no time to stop. Loud voices were calling from the broken wall, and running footsteps began to follow them. Dog ran with Esme perched on her shoulder, following the parrot as he flew ahead of them, twisting and turning down a maze of alleyways. He didn’t hesitate for a moment and seemed to know his way as well as he knew his own feathers.

The voices and footsteps faded into the distance far behind them, but Dog felt certain that Uncle would search for them, so she was glad that the bird kept flying. On and on, between high walls, behind tall buildings and rows of little houses, down empty streets lined with rubble. Dog glimpsed bare winter gardens; lines of washing; prams and sheds and dustbins; a world of life she’d never seen before. Once, a flock of small dark birds passed low overhead; Dog heard the thrilling rush of their wings and her heart sang.

At last Carlos stopped flying, and came to rest on Dog’s shoulder. “Here!” he said, but “here” didn’t feel like much of a destination.

They stood at the bottom of a narrow dead-end street clogged with bulging bin bags; rusting supermarket trolleys toppled in a small sea of oily puddles. In front of them was the wall of a huge warehouse, and in that wall, one tiny corrugated-iron door with a little yellow knob. There were all sorts of noises coming through the wall – voices, bangs, crashes and shouts. Dog was frightened. Where there were people, there might be Uncle out to catch her. But Carlos made the sound of a creaky door opening and it was clear he wanted them to go inside. Dog turned the knob and the door opened with just the same sound as the parrot had made.