he went up West with his accordion. But really blind, there was only
Hopcraft, who lived alone in a smelly house on the Isle of Dogs and
carried a white stick. Would pa have to wear sunglasses and walk very
slowly, tapping the curb with a stick? The thought upset Billy.
People usually thought he was incapable of getting upset, because he
never shed tears. That was how they found out he was different, when he
was a baby: he used to hurt himself and not cry.
Ma sometimes said: “He do feel things, but he don’t never show it.”
Pa used to say that Ma got upset often enough for two, anyway.
When really awful things happened, like the rat joke that Snowy and
Tubby played, Billy found he got all boiled up inside, and he wanted to
do something drastic, like scream–but it just never happened.
He had killed the rat, and that had helped. He had held it with one
hand, and with the other banged it on the head with a brick until it
stopped wriggling.
He would do something like that to Tony Cox It occurred to him that Tony
was bigger than a rat–indeed, bigger than Billy. That baffled him,-> so
he put it out of his mind.
He stopped at the end of a street. The corner house had a shop
downstairs–one of the old shops, where they sold lots of things. Billy
knew the owner’s daughter, a pretty girl with long hair called Sharon. A
couple of years ago she let him feel her tits, but then she ran away
from him and would not speak to him anymore. For days afterward he had
thought of nothing else but the small round mounds under her blouse, and
the way he felt when he touched them. Eventually he had realized that
the experience- was one of those nice things that never happen twice.
He went into the shop. Sharon’s mother was behind the counter, wearing
candy-striped nylon overalls. She did not recognize Billy.
He smiled and said: “Hello.”
“Can I help you?” She was uneasy.
Billy said: “How’s Sharon?”
“Fine thanks. She’s out at the moment. Do you know her?”
“Yes.” Billy looked around the shop, at the assortment of food,
hardware, books, fancy goods, tobacco, and confectionery. He wanted to
say, She let me feel her tits once, but he knew that would not be right.
“I used to play with her.”
It seemed to be the answer the woman wanted: she looked relieved. She
smiled, and Billy saw that her teeth were brown-stained, like his
father’s. She said: “Can I serve you with something?” There was a
clatter of shoes on stairs, and Sharon came into the shop from the door
behind the counter. Billy was surprised: she looked much older. Her hair
was short, and her tits were quite big, wobbling under a T-shirt.
She had long legs in tight jeans. She called: “Bye, Mum.” She was
rushing out.
Billy said: “Hello, Sharon!”
She stopped and stared at him. Recognition flickered in her face. “Oh,
hi, Billy. Can’t stop.” Then she was gone.
Her mother looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry-I forgot she was upstairs
still-”
“It’s all right. I forget a lot of things.”
“Well, can I serve you with something?” the woman repeated.
“I want a knife.”
It had popped into Billy’s head from nowhere, but he knew straight away
that it was right. There was no point in banging a strong man like Tony
Cox on the head with a stone–he would just hit you back. So you had to
knife him in the back, like an Indian.
“For yourself, or your mother?”
“What’s it for?”
Billy knew he shouldn’t tell her that. He frowned, and said: “Cutting
things. String, and that.”
“Oh.” The woman reached into the window display, and pulled out a knife
in a sheath, like Boy Scouts had.
Billy took all the money out of his trouser pocket.
Money was something he was not good about-he always let the shopkeeper
take however much was needed.
Sharon’s mother looked and said: “But you’ve only got eight pence.”
“Is it enough?” She sighed. “No, I’m sorry.”
“Well, can I have some bubblegum, then?”