Web of Fire Bind-up Read Free

for you
, he never found a way.
    So there it sat, a small monument to things left unsaid.
    He was worried about her. She always seemed tired these days. Since becoming pregnant she’d suffered from bad dreams and Sam often heard her crying out in the middle of the night. He would lie awake in the dark and hear his father’s low, muted voice trying to comfort her.They were so busy setting up the gardening business, doing up the house and preparing for the arrival of the new baby that Sam sometimes felt as though he was in the way.
    And the insects… the insects were really getting to him now. They were starting to occupy all his thoughts.
    A wasp settled on the outside of the window and began to crawl across it. Sam banged on the glass with the back of his hand. ‘Leave me alone!’ he shouted angrily, and the wasp flew away.
    Sam shut his eyes. He felt troubled in a way that he had never experienced before. It was suddenly as though his whole life had been put on hold – as if he was just sitting around, waiting for something to happen. With every day that passed his mood darkened and his sense of foreboding deepened. He passed a hand wearily over his eyes and then glanced at the mosquito drawing on his desk. He would finish it today and then do some more research. There was still so much to find out, so much more to know…
    â€˜Sam!’
    It was his dad, calling to him from the kitchen.
    â€˜Sam – come down here a minute!’
    Hidden in the shade of the hedgerows, tiny grey shapes began to rise like spectres from the earth, twisting unseen between the blades of grass that grew by the side of the road.
    Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, unnerved by the strange sounds that whispered in the dust.
    The grey shapes came together now and began to merge and flow as one body through the tangled undergrowth – quickly, urgently – like a hungry animal moving in for the kill.
    Sam’s mum sat at the kitchen table in faded blue dungarees and his dad stood behind her, sipping a mug of coffee and looking serious. He gestured towards the chair opposite.
    â€˜Sit down for a minute, Sam.’
    Sam sat down, staring intently at a small section of the table. He began polishing it with the tip of his finger.
    â€˜Your mother and I are worried about you, Sam.’
    The finger-polishing became more intense.
    â€˜I’m fine. Honestly.’
    â€˜But you’re not though, love, are you?’ His dad drained his coffee and sat in the empty chair next to Sam. ‘I mean, look at you. You’re always shut away in your room drawing pictures of bugs. And when I spoke to your teacher the other day, she told me you spend all of your break times in the library, looking at insect books.’
    Sam shrugged. ‘So?’
    â€˜Look, I know it’s not been easy for you,’ said his mum. She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I know you miss your friends. But things will be OK. Just give it time, that’s all.’
    Sam pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Really, I am.’

    Sam untangled his bike from the rest of the junk in the garage and thought about what his parents had said.
    It was possible that they had a point about the whole insect thing. He had to admit, it was getting a bit weird.
    He needed some time to think.
    Maybe he would just take a ride down to the river for a while and sit quietly in the shade of the willows. Perhaps he would see the kingfishers dart among the trees, watch the sparkle of their blue feathers and hear the splash as they folded their wings and plunged into the silent world beneath the surface.
    And perhaps – in the cool green silence of the woods – he would forget all about wasps and mosquitoes, and about being alone.
    Stepping from the dust of the garage into the morning sunshine, he heard a low, insistent humming sound in the distance.
    It came from the fields beyond the