Raven Summer Read Free Page A

enough.”
    Dad nibbles his thumbnail. He scratches his beard. He peers into the jar and scribbles again.
    “And there was a hiker, with a red hat?”
    “Yes,” I say. “Like there’s always hikers.”
    “And the snake was an adder, yes? And it’s the heat they like, yes?”
    “Aye,” says Max.
    “And did you ever hear about anything like this happening out here before, Max?”
    “Happens all the time,” says Max. “We’re always finding babies by the river with jars of loot beside them.”
    I stash the knife with the money in my bedroom before the police arrive. There’s two of them, PC Ball ands WPC Jenkins. They’re wearing bulletproof vests over their short-sleeved shirts.
    “Do you really need to turn up like we’re a bunch of crack dealers?” says Dad.
    “It’s policy, Mr. Lynch,” says PC Ball. “No need to take it personally.”
    “You never know who’s got a gun or a knife in their pocket,” says WPC Jenkins.
    “Even out here in the peaceful spots,” says Ball.
    He looks at me. I look straight back at him. He grins.
    “Or are you all little angels out here, eh?” He winks. “Any chance of a cuppa, sir?”
    They write it all down: the journey, the discovery, the journey home. They write about the snake. They raise their eyebrows at the bit about the raven, but they write it anyway. They write a description of the hiker.
    “Walking gear,” says PC Ball. “Red cap. Could be a man or a woman. Not too specific, is it, lads?”
    “They weren’t close by,” I say. “And the sun was glaring.”
    “And Rook Hall?” he says. “It’s on a walking route, eh? So they left her in a place where they knew she’d be found.”
    “They?”
says Dad.
    “It’s usually the mum,” says PC Ball. “They’re too young, they can’t cope, something like that.”
    “She’ll need help as much as the baby,” says WPC Jenkins. “She’ll turn up in the end. She’ll not be able to stay away from her child.”
    They phone headquarters: the area around Rook Hall needs to be sectioned off and searched.
    “They’ll be contacting all the hospitals now,” says WPC Jenkins. “They’ll get messages to the GPs. Somebody some-where’ll know something. They’re looking for the hiker. These things don’t stay mysteries for long.”
    A motorbike screams on the military road. A jet howls past. Dad growls at it. PC Ball sips his tea.
    “Peaceful out here, isn’t it?” he says.
    An ambulance turns up. A couple of young paramedics in orange jumpsuits come in.
    “Abandoned?” says the girl, Doreen. She lifts the baby. “Who’d abandon a lovely little lass like this?”
    She holds the baby up high.
    “Girls are
gorgeous
!” she says. “But my goodness, they can stink!
Pooee!
But guess what I brought, just for you? Nappies! Hurray!”
    She changes the baby on the draining board. She murmurs all the time, she makes her eyes wide and bright, she coos and squeaks.
    “Perfect as a picture. And sweetly smelling as a rose. Now, would our lovely little girly like some
milk
?”
    She feeds it from a bottle. The baby snuffles and sucks, and after a while just goes to sleep, and Doreen sits there with the baby on her lap. She smiles and sighs.
    “You found a proper little angel, lads,” she says.
    The paramedics take the baby away. The police take the basket and the note and the jar of cash. They say they’ll be in touch. There’ll be lots more to ask, lots more to talk about. They’re just about to leave when PC Ball says, like he’s suddenly remembered to say it,
    “Thank you, lads. You’ve been good citizens.”
    “What else could we do?” says Max.
    “Oh, you’d be surprised.” He tightens the straps on his bulletproof vest. “Some lads in your position, seeing all that cash …” He grins at me. “Know what I mean, lads?”
    I look straight back at him.
    “No,” I say.
    “That’s great. And you weren’t—even a good lad like you, Liam, even for a few seconds—tempted, were