The Kingdom by the Sea Read Free Page A

Thursday, and Dad had given him his week’s pocket-money as usual. It all seemed so very far away, but there was the big fat florin in his hand. He rubbed the edge in the dim light, to make sure it was real, not just a penny.
    He took a deep breath, and wormed out through the hole again, followed by the dog. He was in a hurry now; his stomach was sort of dissolving into juice at the thought of the battered sausages. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his blankets and the precious attachè case behind, but he couldn’t carry them and the chips as well. Besides, they would make him look conspicuous. They would have to take their chance, as Dad always said, when he and Harry planted out tiny seedlings, watered them, and left them for the night. Harry shook his head savagely, to shake away the memory, and the sting of hot tears that pricked at his eyes suddenly. He smoothed back the sand to conceal the hole he had dug, and set off for Front Street, the dog running ahead and marking the lamp-posts as if this was an ordinary evening stroll along the sea front.
    Even a hundred yards away, the breeze carried the appetising smell to his nostrils. The shop wasn’t shut then; he felt full of triumph. There was a crowd of people in the shop and they hadn’t drawn the blackout curtains yet.
    He pushed open the door, and the dog nosed past him eagerly, nostrils working. The owner of the shop, a tall bald man in a long greasy white apron, looked over the heads of his customers and saw them, and Harry instantly knew he was a very nasty man indeed, even before he opened his mouth.
    “Get that dirty great animal out of here! This is a clean shop, a food shop!”
    Covered with confusion, blushing furiously, Harry grabbed the dog’s collar, and dragged him out. He pushed the dog’s bottom to the pavement, and shouted, “Sit! Sit!” The dog looked at him trustingly, wagging his tail, and Harry dived back into the shop again, before the dog changed his mind. He joined the back of the queue which was about six people long.
    “Filthy great beast,” said the man, to no one in particular. “I don’t know what this town’s coming to.” He shovelled great mounds of golden chips into newspaper and said to the woman helping him, “More batter, Ada,” equally nastily.
    Harry heard the shop door open again, and the next second, Don was beside him, leaping up at the glass counter with eager paws, and leaving dirty scratchmarks on the glass.
    “I told you, get that bloody animal out of here! I won’t tell you again!”
    Harry grabbed Don a second time. He could feel tears starting to gather in his eyes. He hauled him out, as two more people passed him to join the queue inside. He had lost his place in the queue. And every time somebody else came, Don would come in with them, and he’d always lose his place in the queue, and
never
get served.
    He looked round desperately. There was a lamp-post, with two sandbags attached, for use against incendiary bombs. They were tied to the lamp-post with thick string… Harry hauled Don over, undid the string, and slipped it through Don’s collar, tied a knot, and fled back into the shop.
    “Messing with our sandbags now?” said the man savagely. He seemed to have eyes everywhere but on his own business. “Don’t live round here, do you?”
    Harry’s heart sank. Not living round here was important; he mightn’t get served at all now. Shopkeepers looked after their own, these days of rationing.
    “And it’s a while since your face saw soap an’ water. Or yer hair a comb. Where yer from? The Ridges?”
    The Ridges was the slummiest council estate in the whole town; it was a downright insult, to anyone who came from the Balkwell.
    “No. From the Balkwell,” he said stoutly.
    “Well, you get back to the Balkwell chip shop, sonnyJim. We’ve only enough chips for Tynemouth people in this shop. An’ take that damned dog with you. Stolen him, have you? He looks a bit too grand for the likes of