Twitch, p.6
Twitch, page 6
Twitch wondered if his mum had any jewels. She wore her mother’s wedding ring on a chain around her neck, but he didn’t think it was valuable. “I wish the police would hurry up and catch Ryan, so everything can go back to normal.”
“Don’t you think it’s exciting?”
“It’s ruining the birdwatching.”
“But think of all the things you could do if you found five million pounds.”
“You wouldn’t be able to spend it. You’d have to hand it over to the police.”
“They wouldn’t miss a million of it.”
With both hands holding Frazzle, Twitch had to toss his hair out of his eyes to give Jack a sardonic look. “Then you’d be a thief too.”
“Fine, I’d hand it all in, but there’s got to be a reward for that much money. We should find out what it is. Hey, we could search for the stolen loot together and split the reward.”
“I thought you were looking for the stolen loot with Tara, Pamela and Terry.”
“How did you know about that?” Jack shot him an inquisitive glance, then sighed. “They got bored. Does Frazzle mind when you hold him like that?”
“Not any more. I’ve done it so many times. And I’m not hurting him, just stopping him from flying away again.”
“I’d be too scared to hold a bird.”
“You’d get used to it.”
“I’ve never picked up one.” He peered at Frazzle. “How are you going to get him home?”
“I don’t know,” Twitch replied. “I cycled here, with Frazzle and Squeaker in that basket Peaky and Madden trampled on. I guess I’ll walk home carrying him and come back for my bike tomorrow. I can’t let Frazzle go, in case he flies off again.”
“I could walk with you,” Jack offered, “and wheel your bike.”
Twitch felt a flicker of panic at the thought of Jack Cappleman coming to his house. “It’s over a mile away. You’ve probably got other things to do. I’ll be fine.”
“Not really,” Jack admitted. “I was going to spend the afternoon looking for Robber Ryan’s millions to try and stop Peaky and Madden from killing me. Hey, I should tell them that the police found me and I had to give a statement about what happened. That should make them leave me alone for a bit.” He smiled. “I owe you big time. I don’t mind walking your bike home.” He looked away, trying to appear unbothered. “I’d kind of like to see that pigeon.”
“Scabby?”
“Yeah. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well, you … you bullied me for saving that pigeon.”
“It wasn’t because of the pigeon.” Jack avoided Twitch’s gaze. “You made me look mean and stupid in front of everyone.” He paused, and Twitch thought that it hadn’t been him who’d made Jack look mean and stupid. “Anyway, that’s finished now. You saved me from Peaky and Madden, twice! I owe you.”
“You don’t.”
“Please?” Jack’s face was open and unguarded. “Let me make things even. I couldn’t bear it if I owed you for ever.”
“Wheeling my bike home will not make us even.”
“It’s a start.” Jack smiled winningly.
“OK, fine,” Twitch replied gruffly.
“Where’s your bike then, Corvus?” Jack said with a grin. “Let’s go get it.”
“It’s this way,” Twitch said, marching back into the trees clutching Frazzle. “And don’t call me Corvus.”
When they got to where he’d hidden his bike, Twitch told Jack to lift the bracken cover. As he did, Jack shot Twitch an impressed look, and despite himself, Twitch glowed a little with pride. They passed through the gate out onto the towpath, Jack pushing the bike and Twitch carrying Frazzle.
“There’s Billy!” Twitch said, recognizing a figure on the path ahead. “Billy!” he called, hurrying forward.
Billy was wearing a powerful pair of binoculars around his neck and carrying a fancy-looking camera. “Twitch!”
“Are you bird-spotting?” Twitch asked, looking at the binoculars.
“Er, yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m spotting birds.” He glanced at Twitch’s hands. “What’s that you have there?”
“It’s my pet pigeon, Frazzle. I’m taking him home.”
Billy raised an eyebrow. Then he saw Jack over Twitch’s shoulder and his other eyebrow joined it. “What’s he doing here?”
“Oh, Jack’s OK. We sorted all that worm stuff out. He’s doing me a favour and walking my bike home whilst I carry Frazzle.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Billy asked, barely moving his lips.
Jack was hanging back, obviously wary of the man who’d chased him away yesterday.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Twitch dismissed his concern. “But, you won’t see any good birds today. There are too many people about. The birds are all hiding.”
“First day of the summer holidays. Bound to be a busy one.”
“No. It’s that robber who escaped from prison. Everyone’s looking for him.”
“Are they?”
“People think the money’s hidden in Aves Wood. Ryan was spotted at the garage on Briddvale Road on Thursday night.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Twitch frowned, surely Billy must have heard the news. “Did Mr Patchem let you park your camper van in his bottom field?”
“He did. Nice feller. That was a good tip, Twitch. Thank you.”
“What kind of van have you got?”
“An old orange VW. Stop by for a cup of tea if you want. I’ll be there for a few days.”
“VWs are the coolest,” Twitch said, noticing Billy’s eyes darting back to the trees beyond the path. Twitch understood what it was like to want to be left alone to watch the birds. He stepped aside. “We’d better go. Got to get Frazzle back home.”
“See you around, lads,” Billy said, lifting his binoculars.
The closer Twitch got to his house, the more nervous he felt about letting Jack in.
“It’s not far now,” he said. “You can leave the bike here if you like. You’ve more than paid me back.”
“Don’t you want me to come to your house?” Jack asked.
“It’s not that,” Twitch lied. “I thought you might have got bored, or want to go home.”
They turned onto the short road where Twitch lived and he nodded to the house at the end of the terrace. “That’s where I live, the one with the blue door.”
Jack nodded, his expression blank. Twitch knew Jack’s house was four times the size of his.
“Mum’s at work.” Twitch looked down at the breast pocket of his camo shirt. His door key was buttoned into it. “Could you get my key out of my shirt pocket and open the door?”
“What should I do with your bike?”
“Lay it on the grass.” He nodded to the tiny rectangle of lawn in front of the living room window.
Jack opened the door and Twitch pushed past, climbing the stairs to the bathroom. Jack followed him.
“Can you slide the window up?”
Looking baffled, Jack did as he was asked, and Twitch stepped out onto the flat roof, releasing Frazzle, who fluttered to the landing hatch and strutted through the trapdoor, disappearing inside the loft. Peeping through the mesh in the door, Twitch saw Squeaker and felt a wave of relief. She’d made it home.
“Your pigeons live in a wardrobe?”
“They don’t know what a wardrobe is,” Twitch said, shaking out his stiff hands.
“Does your neighbour mind you having pigeons?”
“She’s not a massive fan of Scabby. She left her bathroom window open once.” He pointed to the rectangular window in the adjacent wall. “Scabby flew in and gave her a terrible fright when she was having a bath.” Twitch chuckled. “She came to our door in her bathrobe wearing a shower cap and waving a loofah at me. I had to go in and get him out.” Jack laughed. “Want to help me feed them?” He opened the tub of seed and the wardrobe door, taking out the silver grain dishes. “Take the scoop.”
Jack scooped up some seed. “How much should I give them?”
“Half in each bowl.”
Maude flew out, taking the opportunity to exercise her wings. Scabby fluttered down and hopped about the rooftop.
Jack stared at the bird. “Is that him? Is that the one…?”
“Yeah.” Twitch sat down, holding his palm flat, sprinkling grain onto it. Scabby hopped, then fluttered onto Twitch’s knee, eagerly approaching the food.
“I didn’t really want to kill him,” Jack said quietly, more to himself than Twitch.
“Here, hold out your hand.” Twitch poured a little seed onto it, then held Jack’s hand steady beside his. Scabby took a minute or two to move, but eventually he hopped onto Jack’s hand and started to eat the seed.
“He’s really light,” Jack whispered, not wanting to spook the bird.
“He’s got hollow bones; most birds do, to help them fly. Pigeons are great flyers; they have these air sacs, like balloons, in their body that fill when they’re flying. They’re also really smart – well, except for Frazzle.”
Jack didn’t take his eyes off Scabby. He piled a bit more grain onto his hand and Scabby cooed appreciatively. Maude fluttered down, landing on Jack’s knee, and joined Scabby to dine off his hand.
Jack smiled at Twitch. “I think they like me.”
Scabby’s head jerked back then forwards and back again, before he suddenly regurgitated his food onto Jack’s palm.
“Ewww, gross!” Jack held his hand away and leaned back. “Scabby puked on me!”
Twitch laughed. “When birds bring up their food, it’s a sign of affection.”
“They puke on you if they like you?” Jack grimaced.
“Something like that.” Twitch giggled as Jack’s face contorted with disgust.
“Oh, grim, no! Scabby’s pecking at the puke. He’s eating it! He’s eating his own sick!”
Twitch howled with laughter.
“Get him off! Make him stop. Twitch! Stop laughing. I’ll be sick myself in a minute.” And then Jack started laughing too.
“Scabby’s got his revenge!” Twitch hooted.
The boys were still chuckling as they washed their hands in the bathroom sink. Jack dried his on the towel and wandered out onto the landing. “Is this your bedroom?” he asked, walking forwards and pushing the door open.
“Don’t!” Twitch cried, but it was too late. Jack was inside and looking about.
“What’s the big blue box? Is this a storage room? Oh! There’s a bird’s nest up there!”
“Shh.” Twitch grabbed Jack’s arm to stop him from going too close to the swallows’ nest. “There’s eggs in there. She’s keeping them warm.”
“Oh,” Jack exhaled, stepping back beside Twitch and staring up at the swallow, who was glaring down at them. “Birds have bedrooms in your house?” he whispered.
“Just in my room. The swallows nest here every summer.”
“Every summer?”
Twitch nodded. “Since I was little.”
“But…” Jack looked around. “Where do you sleep?”
Twitch paused, wondering if he was going to regret this, and then pointed to the box bed. “In there.”
“Really?” Jack dropped to his knees, poking his head through the hole before Twitch could stop him. “This is great,” he hissed, scrambling inside.
For a second, Twitch was uncertain what to do. No one but his mum had ever been in his box bed. But he clambered in after Jack and turned on the fairy lights.
“This is like having your own den!” Jack took in the pictures of birds on the walls. “What’s this?” He pointed to a hand-drawn map pinned to the wall. “Is it Aves Wood?”
“Er, yeah, it’s where I do my birdwatching. It shows the different habitats and places I’ve spotted rare birds.”
“You’ve mapped every path.” Jack studied the map. “You must know the nature reserve like the back of your hand.”
“Pretty well, yeah.”
“So, if you were going to hide five million pounds in there, where would you put it?”
Twitch knew exactly where he’d hide something he didn’t want found. He’d sink it in one of the shallow pools around the pond that looked like land, but he wasn’t about to tell Jack that. It was too close to his hide. “Dunno.” He shrugged.
Jack narrowed his eyes, sensing Twitch was holding back. “Are you worried I’m going to tell everyone at school that you sleep in a box and let birds puke on you?”
“Are you worried I’m going to tell everyone you made them look for money that you were always going to give to Peaky and Madden, because they own you. And the only reason you know about my birds is because they puked on you?”
Jack grinned. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Deal.” Twitch nodded, trying not to smile back.
“Can we look at the swallows?”
“You have to keep your distance. Don’t startle them with any loud noises or big movements.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t want to upset them.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about – it’s you. They’ll come for you if they feel threatened. Do you like being dive-bombed and pooped on?”
“Poop’s worse than puke,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“Then do as I say, and whisper.”
They crawled out of the box bed and got to their feet, tiptoeing slowly and quietly to a spot a metre from the nest and looked up at the ceiling.
“How many eggs are in there?” Jack whispered.
“I don’t know. It’s their second clutch. Usually a swallow will lay four to six eggs. The first clutch was four and I think there’s another four up there, but I haven’t looked.”
“Second clutch?”
“Yeah. They come here to breed, then at the end of the summer the whole family will fly back to Africa.”
As they were talking, Mr Swallow flew through the window with an unfortunate insect struggling in his beak. He was bringing food for Mrs Swallow.
“Oh, you have chickens!” Jack whispered, pointing out of the window.
Twitch pulled him back. “Yeah, we’ve got three.”
“And a pet cat.”
“What?” Twitch gasped, ducking to peer out of the window and feeling a splat on his head from the protective Mr Swallow.
An ungroomed white cat the size of a small dog was climbing the trunk of the teapot tree with his eyes fixed on the blue-tit nesting box. Twitch yelled at Clarty Cat, who looked disdainfully up at him as Mrs Swallow shrieked, Mr Swallow dived and Jack leaped backwards, crying out in alarm. Twitch dashed out of his bedroom, almost falling down the stairs, and sprinted into the kitchen. Grabbing the giant water pistol, he threw open the back door, yelling and squirting like a berserker.
Clarty Cat hissed, leaping from the tree onto the wall, fixing Twitch with a furious glare, before dropping into the chicken run and sending the hens squawking in circles. Twitch lurched after him, yelling and aiming a jet of water at the spitting, hissing beast. He hit the cat, who yowled, vaulted over the wall and was gone.
“Take this.” Twitch handed the water pistol to Jack, who’d caught up with him. “If Clarty Cat comes back, shoot him. I need to check on the girls.”
Jack nodded, watching as Twitch opened the gate to the chicken run. Eggbum was in the coop, but Fandango had got herself trapped behind the wheelbarrow and was making a terrible racket. Twitch picked her up and held her gently, murmuring calming noises as he carried her to the coop. He looked about and spotted Dodo cowering under a bush. He lifted the hen from her hiding place and shut her in the coop too.
“Are they all right?” Jack called.
“They’re fine. Clarty Cat has scared them silly.”
“Clarty Cat is a weird name.”
“Clarty means filthy and dirty. Mum named him Clarty Cat because he looks like he could do with a good bath.” He walked past Jack, scanning the ground around the lilac tree, and then looked up into the branches. “The blue tits seem OK.” He sighed with relief. “Well done for spotting the cat. You probably saved their lives.”
“There are teapots in that tree!” Jack stared up at them.
“The chickens won’t lay now, not until they’ve recovered,” Twitch said, ignoring Jack’s exclamation.
“Twitch, I’m home. I—” Iris Featherstone came out into the garden. “Oh, hello.” She glanced at Jack, then at Twitch, then back at Jack, suddenly beaming. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Mum! Er … this is Jack. He’s in my form at school.”
“Hello, Jack.” Iris shook his hand, smiling warmly. Twitch felt himself go red at the delight on his mum’s face. She pointed to the water pistol. “Clarty Cat?”
Jack nodded. “He was climbing the tree when I spotted him. He jumped in the run with the chickens, but Twitch got him with the water pistol and chased him away.” Then he added, “But don’t worry. All the birds are OK.”
“Thank goodness. Have you eaten?” she asked, and the boys shook their heads. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Jack?”
Twitch felt panic freeze his muscles. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“We’re having toad-in-the-hole with veggie sausages and green beans.”
“Jack has to get home,” Twitch blurted out at the same time as Jack said, “Yes please, Mrs Featherstone.”
They looked at each other.
“Great, that settles it. Dinner for three.” Twitch’s mum turned round and headed back into the kitchen, pretending that Twitch hadn’t spoken.
“I won’t stay if you don’t want me to,” Jack said after a moment of awkward silence.
“It’s just … yesterday you were trying to shove a worm in my mouth, and now you’re all yes please, Mrs Featherstone.” He shrugged. “It’s … you know, weird.”
“Why’ve you got teapots in your tree?” Jack asked.
“I like them, OK?”
“Aren’t you worried that people will laugh?”
“Mum says laughter’s a good thing, and people can naff off if they don’t like it.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” Jack folded his arms. “You’re … interesting.”
