HIS BODY FEELS HEAVY. HE SHAKES HIS HANDS, MOVES every limb to unlock his joints, then crawls out of the eaves space and crouches at the top of the stairs listening to the house. He hears Rory squeal with laughter, and thudding footsteps. Then he frowns and touches his lips, the wisps of his dream dissipating to reveal which parts were real. Izzy kissed him while he slept. Shit.
He crawls on to the landing and looks out of the window, in time to see her vanish round the side of the swimming pool changing room. Christ. Why did girls have to be so dramatic? He’d better check she’s OK. He runs down the stairs unseen, listening for the adults as he grabs a raincoat off the hook in the boot room and shoves his feet into wellington boots. The murmur of female conversation makes him hold his breath, but no one appears. He lets himself out through the side door and runs, enjoying the cooler air and the rain on his face after the oppressive stuffiness of the cubbyhole.
His feet leave dark imprints in the grass, then wet patches on the paving that surrounds the swimming pool. The rain breaks the surface of the water, thousands of rings spreading. A dead wasp undulates, buffeted by the wake of an ever-expanding circle. He runs on, holding his breath as he passes the fermenting stink of the compost heap and ducks with relief into the shelter of the woods.
He calls Izzy’s name but there’s no answer, just the rhythmic sounds his feet make as they hit wet mud and leaves, and his breath as it puffs in and out of his lungs. He stops, his hand pressed against a tree, doubled over with a stitch, panting. The river is audible above the rain now. He sets off again, following the path until Izzy’s skinny figure appears through the trees. She has her back to him.
‘Izzy!’ he shouts. ‘Iz!’
She turns slowly, squinting at him through the rain. It’s hard to make out her expression, but he smiles anyway, wanting to reassure her that they’re still mates; to reassure himself.
‘You look like a drowned rat,’ he says, walking towards her.
As he comes closer he sees fear written on her face. It stops him in his tracks. Does she think what happened in the cubbyhole was his fault? Is that what she’s going to tell the adults when they want to know why she’s dripping wet? Shit. He’s got to make sure that doesn’t happen. No one’s going to believe his story over hers, because no one is on his side apart from his parents. Possibly Angus too, he thinks, but even Angus might not support him when he sees the state Izzy is in. He takes a step forward and she screams at him to go away.