Rory was clock-watching. If you’d asked him the time, he could have told you it was precisely 2.51pm. He’d been staring at the clock for ages, willing the boring minutes to pass. But they still crawled by, and he was beginning to wonder if the clock was broken. He sighed loudly.
‘Get on with your work!’ snapped the principal. PJ looked up to see what was going on. ‘You too, Paul,’ Mrs Malley told him. ‘Detention ends at half three – perhaps you need some more work to do?’ She began shuffling pages on her desk. ‘I’m sure I have a worksheet here somewhere …’
The three boys hurriedly bent over their work again. Another forty minutes to go, another week on report looming, another detention at the same time next week … They were not happy.
A small shadow flitted by the window, then landed on the sill. It was a bird, and it peered inquisitively at the shapes and shadows inside. It was right beside the desk where Adam sat, Rory noticed. Adam’s starling.
* * *
‘Will we go up to the shopping centre and see that new movie today?’ Adam’s dad asked on Saturday morning.
Adam turned away from the TV to see his dad standing behind the kitchen counter, showered and sleepy-looking, like a recently washed tortoise.
‘But you were working last night, Da … don’t you have to sleep?’
‘Nope, it’s okay. Your mam’s not feeling well, so I said I’d bring you out today. I’m grand.’
Jim didn’t look grand; he had bags under his eyes and a kind of crumpled look to his face. Adam hadn’t the heart to tell him he’d already seen the film. He got up and turned off the TV. ‘Okay, I’d really like that,’ he said.
Adam was surprised to find that he enjoyed Alien Empire just as much the second time. It was great to be there with Dad, sitting companionably, sharing popcorn and sweets in the dark.
As they came out, the daylight glare of the white November sky hit Adam with an almost physical force.
‘Will we walk back?’ asked Dad. Adam zipped up his jacket and felt the icy wind find its way up the sleeves and through the stitches. ‘Good exercise! Save the fare!’ said Dad, sounding unconvinced.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before Dad spoke again.
‘Listen, Adam, there’s a bit of bad news.’
Adam felt an icy hand grip his stomach. What could it be? ‘Is it Grandad? I haven’t seen him since – since – is he okay?’
‘He’s fine, Adam. It’s not that. It’s …’
But Adam’s mind was still racing. It must be Mam! ‘Mam?’
‘Adam, Mam’s fine too. She’s just got a cold.’
Maybe they’re splitting up. He hadn’t seen Mam and Dad laughing together for ages. He knew what it was like – he’d heard about all the problems when Niamh’s parents split a year ago …
‘So, anyway, the car’s gone back …’ Dad was saying.
‘Car?’ repeated Adam.
‘Yeah, the car; we can’t afford to keep it, especially with Christmas coming up.’
Adam looked confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
Dad put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. ‘Have you been listening to anything I was saying?’ he laughed. ‘Don’t worry; Mam will get another job and she’ll cheer up a bit. We’ve got to help her and not keep asking for things or being difficult. Right?’
‘You’re not splitting up?’ asked Adam.
Dad threw back his head and laughed. ‘I knew you weren’t listening, Mr Panic.’ He held Adam by the shoulders and looked directly at him. ‘Adam, Grandad is still alive, Mam is not ill and we are not splitting up. Mam’s just lost her job – that’s all.’
Adam smiled with relief. ‘Oh! That’s okay, then.’
Dad’s eyebrows rose and he gave a wry laugh. ‘Okay? … Well, in one way, you’re right. It’s only a job. It’s only money. We have each other and we have you. That’s what it’s all about.’
They turned the corner onto their road. Outside the house, Dad noticed a small bird clinging to one of the struts that supported the drainpipe. ‘Would you look at that?’ he said, pointing to the bird. ‘A thrush or something … what’s it doing there?’
‘It’s a starling, Dad,’ said Adam, with a huge smile. ‘It’s waiting for me.’