Hunger Read Free Page A

cigarette on the brick floor, crushed it to and fro under her heel and left it there.
    Paula said nothing. Adrian would, when he came home and smelled smoke in the house. She would leave it to Adrian. She was his mother.
    ‘Shall we go out, then?’
    Yvonne lit a fresh cigarette the moment the front door closed behind them. Paula said nothing, only picked up the spent match from the path where her mother-in-law had thrown it.
    ‘We generally go this way – past the houses and down into the wood. Well, not much of a wood but, you know . . . I love trees.’
    It was warm, slightly damp. Misty.
    ‘I’d go mad,’ Yvonne said. ‘Never seeing anybody.’
    ‘I like it. I like my own company.’
    Yvonne looked at her sideways.
    ‘What do you do at the weekends, when Adrian’s home?’
    ‘Go for walks. You know.’
    ‘What will it be like for him in winter? Out of the house in the dark, home in the dark. Not much fun, you know.’
    ‘Moving here was his idea,’ Paula said.
    Yvonne grabbed her arm as the track sloped down between the trees.
    ‘Where does this lead?’
    ‘We come out at the bottom into a clearing, then cross the field.’
    ‘With animals?’
    ‘With . . . ’
    Rabbits, badgers, foxes flitted through her mind.
    ‘Cows? Bulls?’
    ‘Oh no. It’s perfectly safe’
    Yvonne stopped to light another cigarette.
    ‘I’m not much of a one for fields. Shall we go back?’
    She walked quite smartly once they were on the level again, so that she reached the cottage gate first, just as all four of the children were sneaking round from the back. The eldest, in front, had her hands full of something; the boy behind was cramming a handful of cornflakes into his mouth from the open box he carried. The small ones came up behind. One held a packet of biscuits.
    ‘Oh my God!’
    Paula pushed past Yvonne and put out her arm to catch hold of the girl at the front.
    ‘It was you,’ she said, without any anger. ‘You came and took the chocolate.’
    The eyes were wary and also defiant.
    ‘Who on earth are these children? Do you know them, Paula? Where are they from? What are they doing coming out of your house? Why aren’t they in school? Have you been stealing? Why aren’t you at school?’ Yvonne spoke loudly, as if the children were deaf. ‘I’m going to call the police.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘They’ve been in your house. They’ve been stealing, it’s perfectly clear. Don’t just let it go, Paula. You turn a blind eye and they’ll be back.’
    ‘Will you please leave me to deal with this, Yvonne? Go into the house.’
    The children were now pressed together as a single unit, like small animals. Their hair was matted, their faces dirty.
    ‘What were you doing?’ Paula said. ‘You took the chocolate, you ate the peanuts from the bird feeder, now you’ve been in and . . . ,’ she gestured at the food. ‘Where do you come from?’
    They were mute, staring and still.
    ‘You shouldn’t just walk into people’s houses. You know that, don’t you?’
    The small boy clutched the biscuits to his chest.
    ‘Those will break,’ Paula said. ‘If you hug them.’
    The mist had thickened to a drizzle, muffling the air.
    No word was spoken and she did not see any signal pass between them. One minute they were standing together in their hostile silence, the next they were running, down the path and through the open gate, making almost no sound, flashing away like birds between the high hedges. A few cornflakes drifted down in their wake and settled on the ground.
    ‘They’ll be back, you know.’ Yvonne said. ‘You should call the police.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t think so. Would you like some coffee?’
    ‘Is it real or instant?’
    ‘I don’t buy instant. The police are miles away . . .’
    ‘It’s that sort of inertia they rely on. Nobody being bothered to report them.’
    ‘Yvonne, they’re children – young children. The last thing they need is the police involved in their lives from the very