Just in Case Read Free Page B

impatiently and returned to his paper. ‘Well, that’s a relief,’ he snorted. ‘Life’s complicated enough without having a poof for a son.’

8
    School started the following Tuesday.
    The radio blasted Justin awake at precisely 7 a.m. and he sat bolt upright in bed, shocked, blood pumping rapidly through alarmed organs. He hadn’t been up before noon all summer.
    Groaning, he flailed at the snooze button until the noise stopped, and fell once more into a deep sleep. At the fourth repeat, he sat up in bed, reached over and pulled back one of the curtains.
    It was pissing with rain.
    The gloom was so thick he could barely see the road from his bedroom. He sighed, facing the prospect of a new school year with all the pleasure of a worm facing a beak.
    I wish I had a dog, he thought, searching under the bed for his new paisley shirt and white canvas trousers.
    Justin stood up, one arm in an armhole and one lying slack by his side. He felt suddenly that if he could walk into school today with a new name, new clothes and a dog – thesleekest, most elegant greyhound in creation – he might possibly survive. But he had no greyhound, and the chances of getting hold of one before eight thirty seemed tragically slim. It was already ten past.
    He said goodbye to his mother, picked Charlie up off the floor and whirled him around till he squealed with glee. Then he shook hands with his father and set off to meet his fate.
    The thought of a pet, even an imaginary pet, soothed him. He stopped in the drizzle along the half-mile walk to school so that his dog could sniff lamp posts, trees, dead birds.
    Here, boy! Come on, boy!
    He called his greyhound happily. The creature possessed an effortless grace combined with serenity, dignity, wisdom. The dog’s soft eyes contemplated the world with calm compassion. His body was smooth and elegant, his chest deep, legs strong and well-defined. What a combination of the physical and the spiritual! Surely no ordinary dog, no mere mortal dog could claim the attributes of – of – of Boy.
    Good Boy! Boy was no poodle. Anyone could see that.
    As he reached the school gates, Justin found himself in the midst of an excited crowd of hormonally charged human particles, each one bouncing randomly off its fellow particles, converging finally into groups of twos and threes that went about the age-old business of swapping cigaretteends and lies about summer sexual conquests, picking up old friendships, and resuming grudges exactly where they’d left off.
    The new term held endless golden promise: new victims for bullies, new excuses to fail literacy and play truant, new opportunities to pursue what their parents laughably referred to as an education.
    ‘Hey, Case!’ He heard a wolf whistle. ‘Nice shirt.’
    It was an education all right.
    Justin nodded, exchanging greetings with a variety of individuals, many of whom he had known since primary school. Some could be categorized as friends, some were nodding acquaintances. Most knew his name.
    It was not going to be easy to explain his new identity.
    He turned to Boy, and the greyhound slipped his velvety muzzle into Justin’s hand. He left it there for a long moment, imparting strength, grace and wisdom to his owner. Justin felt himself briefly illuminated by the contact, fortified by the touch of his fabulous beast.
    ‘Hola.’
    He looked up. Peter Prince was fair-haired, toweringly tall and skinny, with bony knees and a relentlessly cheerful smile. He was known (if at all) for his peculiar genius in matters relating to astronomy. He and Justin crossed paths only in Spanish and history, subjects at which neither of them excelled.
    ‘Good summer?’
    ‘Only if you like psychic torment,’ Justin said.
    ‘That’s too bad.’ Peter appeared genuinely sympathetic. ‘I don’t suppose today’s going to be much of an improvement.’
    ‘No.’
    Peter looked at him closely. There was definitely something different about David Case. It wasn’t