Nvel Chapter 32

 

Chapter 32

The Whistle

Carmel and Patrick went to The Lickey Hills by bus. They caught a bus known as the inner circle number eight, from where they lived, which took them to Bristol Road where they caught a bus to the Lickey Hills. Patrick had been before with Murdoch and Carmel with the police but they didn't realise how long the journey took by bus from the Bristol Picture House where they boarded the bus.

They saw signs to Bournville where the chocolate was made and it was said the place was, more or less, owned by the Cadbury family who were Quakers and the question a lot of people asked themselves was, is there a place in  Bournville which serves alcohol?

They passed a few hospitals: Selly Oak Hospital, on the way to Bournville, and a huge place called The Woodlands Hospital near Northfield. It was a bit like a trip on a long railroad which passed through villages, which they must have been in the Birmingham of long ago.

'Ring ring' on the bell at every stop. If someone wanted to get off they had to ring the bell once.

It was August, it was humid and the bus had no air conditioning in fact not many people aboard had heard of it.

Eventually they reached their destination and proceeded up Rose Hill. Carmel knew that Finbar was fascinated by a story called 'The Hobbit' which one of the teachers had told his class about and Finbar had asked if he could read it as he asked at Moseley Road Library if a copy was available and it never was: 'Do you think he's hiding up there looking for a – what was is you called them?'

'A hobbit. They're dwarves – not dwarfs – and they're gentle peaceful little people who live in Middle Earth.'

'How would he know all this?'

'Boys at the scouts were reading the book.'

'What about the little people of Ireland?'

'I have no idea.' she said.

Patrick knew the spot where he had found Finbar's harmonica and they walked a bit further up the hill and stopped.

'Where now?' said Carmel.

'We've been up through here – maybe we should go up a bit and look around there?'

'Doug said he thought it was back there.'

'Did he? He has his shite he knew no more than me and I hadn't been here before – let's go as high as we can and walk down.;

it was quite a climb and when they were maybe three quarters of the way to the top they moved in to the trees. It wasn't exactly a forest as there were spaces around.

'Keep your eye on the sun.' said Patrick 'we don't want to get lost.'

They couldn't find anything to encourage them. Every tree looked like the next one and Patrick looked up to the sun.

'We're okay' he said.

'The sun moves' said Carmel 'don't be do sure.'

'No – we move' said Patrick 'but I think we're all right for a while.'

They stood for a moment and listened to the birds and Patrick thought he heard a woodpecker.

'Are you sure?' said Carmel.

'Yes. The one thing I don't hear – or see, as a matter of fact, are the police who are reported to be combing the hills.'

'That's a funny sounding bird' said Carmel 'do you hear it?'

'Yes – I think it's over there' he pointed in a direction.

Peep peep peep peep paa peep peep peep peep pap, they could hear, peep peep peep peep paa peep peep peep peep peep.

They got closer.

Peep peep peep peep paa peep peep peep peep peep – again.

Finbar lay on the ground where Henry had left him. He felt quite groggy and wondered where Henry had got to. Maybe he had gone to get the flute he had promised. Near a tree, there seemed to be a shape on the ground, next to a large stone which had a dip in it and it looked comfortable.

He went to it and snuggled against the stone.

He wondered about Henry. He had given him the whistle and said if ever he needed him to whistle and he would come. The whistle was tucked into his belt and he took it out.

It was a strange whistle, with only one note; a woodman's whistle. It seemed the bark of the twig formed the space for the whistle; but only one note.

How could he get a tune out of it. He hadn't found his harmonica so it must be in Tommy's car or he might have dropped it.

He tried to play a tune on the whistle but it came out like a one note samba: peep peep peep peep paa peep peep peep peep peep and again - peep peep peep peep paa peep peep peep peep peep. He figured it was an 'f' natural. He played and played and he . . . he fell back.

Chapter 33

The Rescue.

Novel Chapter 31

 

Chapter 31

Henry.

'You are hungry, aren't you?' said Henry.

'Yes.'

'What would you like to eat?'

'Bacon sandwich.'

Henry couldn't stop laughing.

'What are you laughing at?'

'No bacon here, Fin boy.'

'Fin Boy? Where'd you get that from?' said Finbar.

'Just came into my head. Here let me show you,'

He pulled a flute from his belt.

'I need to make a whistle for you.'

'What for?' said Finbar.

'So that you can blow it and I can hear it.'

Henry put the flute to his lips 'Watch.'

Deedle ap a doodle de doodle ap a doodee. He played on his flute.

'Did you see that?' he said.

'I heard it' said Finbar.

'Watch' said Henry and he played the phrase again.

'Did you see?'

'Yes' said Finbar.

He handed the flute to Finbar 'Okay, play.'

He messed with it for a while then -  Deedle ap a doodle de doodle ap a doodee.

'Good' said Henry.

Henry went to a Sycamore tree and pulled a small twig.

'You play and I'll make a whistle for you.' he said.

Finbar played and Henry cut a piece that was about as long as his elbow to the tip of his fingers. He cut around this with his knife and broke it off straight.

Then he cut a rim around in the bark of the twig till it went to the other side and twisted the twig in his hand – about as thin as a pencil. When he was sure the bark would come away from the wood he cut a little hole in the shape of a big smile and carried whittling the bark in his hand. All the time Finbar played the flute and saw Henry take the bark off the twig altogether. He put this into his top pocket,

Where the smile hole was he shaped it into a certain shape till he liked what he saw. Then he put the bark back around the twig, making sure the hole in the bark lined up with the smile shape, which had been extended, put it to his lips and it made a noise like a whistle.

'Here!'

He gave it to Finbar who handed the flute back to Henry. Finbar tried the whistle and was delighted when it worked.

'If you need me, blow on the whistle and I'll come' said Henry.

'When do I get a flute?' said Finbar.

'I'll make one for you tonight – then you can learn more tunes.'

'How did I get here' said Finbar.

No answer from Henry.

'Time to eat' he said and they headed off.

The fox was over the threshold of the circumflex when Finbar opened his eyes the next morning. It cleared the way for Finbar as he came out to the clearing. He really didn't know where he was or even the time zone. Henry told him he could either stay or go back to his other life and offered him two plates of food saying that if he ate the mushrooms he would stay with Henry and if he had the soup he would go.

Finbar looked at the mushrooms and didn't notice that they were the same as the ones he had eaten, and maybe sent him into this state, but he didn't know what kind of soup it was.

If he tasted it, that would mean he had chosen it, likewise with the mushrooms.

'Whistle when you want me,' said Henry 'when you have eaten and I will return.'

'Where are you going?' said Finbar.

'Back.' said Henry 'I was kicked out, once – but I'm not kicking you out. You must go, if you wish, or stay, if you want.'

He walked away and disappeared into the trees.

The two meals were there and Finbar didn't understand what Henry wanted him to do, in fact he didn't understand himself as he wasn't feeling on top form as if he was in another world - was it a dream? He pinched himself and deduced it was real.

He smelt the soup – acorn soup? How could he know this as the whole place smelt of acorns. His stomach was churning but had a pleasant feeling of emptiness and he felt, somehow, that he didn't want to disturb it.

He looked around for the fox – the fox with the missing bit of tail; he couldn't find him and went back to the circumflex and stumbled.

Chapter 32

The Whistle

Novel Chapter 30

 

Chapter 30.

Searching

Back to the following Sunday afternoon Mr. Murdoch and Patrick walked up Rose Hill, which was new to Patrick; Murdoch probably knew every step, and when he came to a slight gap, he went through it and Patrick followed. After a few tries when Murdoch thought it was the place, Patrick said 'Where is he supposed to be?'

Soon they came to the tree, the tree where Finbar had seen the etching and they stopped.

'This is it' he said.

They looked toward the tree and Murdoch took a step forward.

'Finbar' he called.

It seemed to echo.

Silence.

'You said you knew.' said Patrick.

'I only guessed, I don't know for sure.'

Murdoch went further and Patrick followed him.

'That tree' said Murdoch, 'is big enough . . . ' he searched 'ah yes.'

He went to the tree.

The circumflex.

He poked his head in – dark.

'We were in here – we squeezed in and Finbar was, well er . . he was amazed.'

'And you thought that was enough.'

'Hey!! You two!!' A voice called, as if from nowhere.

A cop.

A cop again 'Hey?'

They turned around.

'That's Patrick – my husband – and Mr. Murdoch.' said Carmel.

There were three policemen behind her.

'Murdoch: Douglas Murdoch.' said the man with that name.

He shook hands with one of the cops.

'Oh? Yes sir' said the cop, recognising him.

'No sign of him' said Patrick.

Carmel kissed him on the cheek.

'Doug was wrong.' he said.

After an exhaustive search the police retreated to their vehicles. When they met Tommy Bull at his house in Sherborne Road, they started by asking him what happened to Finbar.

'He got out of the car and ran off – I couldn't catch him.'

'What about his bag?'

'What?' said Tommy.

'His bag was left at the bottom of Rose Hill. His father found his harmonica some way up the hill – what do you say to that?'

'I couldn't catch him so when I got back to the car' he stammered 'I left the bag for him – case he came back – I don't know about his harmonica.'

'Why did he get out of your car?'

'I don't know. He said he wanted to piss.'

'Piss?' said the cop. 'Did he ask you to stop?'

No answer from Tommy.

'So he could urinate?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'I don't know.' said Tommy.

'You don't know.'

'No.'

'There was talk of you – being fond of small boys?'

'What do you mean?' said Tommy.

'You had a reputation of sexually abusing little boys.'

'Where'd you get that from?'

'We have records.' said the cop.

'I was told that would be wiped after five years.'

'No not five years, when you are eighteen.'

'I'll be eighteen next month' said Tommy.

'If you are exonerated after this it may well be wiped, as you put it, but at the moment we have a missing boy and we want to find him.'

'I called after him, he didn't answer or stop and . . well I drove home.'

'That child was left in your charge.'

The police took Tommy to Edward Road Police Station where he was interrogated again and they detained him.

On Monday morning Patrick didn't go to work and neither did Carmel.

Patrick was in the garden when a photographer and a reporter from from The Birmingham Mail, came down the lane.

'Mr. Callaghan?' said the reporter.

'Yes' said Patrick.

'I know this might be a bad time' the reporter said 'but I wonder if you would answer a few questions.'

'What questions?' said Patrick.

'About your boy – Funbar.'

'What? His name is not Funbar! What's the matter with you?'

'Sorry, we thought it might help find him if you . . if we made it public. Do you have a recent photograph?'

Just then a reporter from The Evening Despatch, came with another photographer in tow.

'What is this?' said Patrick.

'We want to help you find your kid' said the Despatch reporter.

And so it went.

The Sunday Mercury, The Birmingham Post and other outer Birmingham press arrived that day.

And so it goes.

Tommy Bull was remanded in custody and soon the whole shooting match was in the newspapers.

People organised themselves and ascended The Lickey Hills to look for Finbar. It wasn't organised and the police, eventually disbanded the search and sent everybody home. They left a few officers at the scene and appealed for people who knew the geography of The Lickey Hills to come forward; the Lickies.

Carmel and Patrick were beside themselves with worry, and Partick couldn't help think about what Finbar had said about Tommy when he was a child.

Patrick found what number Tommy lived at in Sherborne Road and went there to see the parents. When he got there he found a policeman outside and was sent packing.

At his wits end Patrick told Carmel he was going to The Lickey Hills. He wanted to try and trace Finbar's steps from where the bag was found and the harmonica; which was dented near the button; Carmel said she wanted to go too. They knew people were up there searching for the boy but to no avail, so maybe they should go themselves.

When they were nearly ready to go there was a knock at their door; a young girl waiting in the garden; Sofia Taboné.

'Hello' said Patrick.

'Hello' said Sofia 'I'm Sofia Taboné, I know Finbar and I read that he was missing.'

'Yes' said Carmel 'we were thinking of going to the Lickies to try and trace his steps – would you like to come in?'

Sofia started to move.

'Or sit out there?' said Patrick pointing at a green Lloyd Loom chair near the bay window.

'I'll get you some tea; do you like tea?' he said.

'Yes' said Sofia 'yes please.'

She joined Carmel who sat on another chair. Patrick went inside and put the kettle on.

'I know who you are.' said Carmel 'Finbar mentioned you.'

'Did he?' said Sofia, quite surprisingly 'I haven't seen him for years – I didn't even know where he lived till now.'

'Did you see it in the paper?'

'Yes.' said Sofia 'I saw the photo.'

'That was his school photo – the police asked us for it.'

'I saw him on his bike - loads of times. I saw him, but he never stopped. He would look over and I'd wave – but he never stopped.'

'He's a shy boy, in some respects – but not in others.'

It was a cool August morning as a train rattled by on its way to Moor Street Station. Sofia looked up at it 'we're used to the train too' she said.

'Where do you live?'

'Brighton Road – by the bridge. The same trains pass both of us every day. I pass here too on my way to school.'

Patrick came out carrying a tray with, three cups and saucers, milk and sugar and a tea strainer. He put it down on a little table and went back inside to wait for the kettle to boil.

'We don't have the fire lit' she said 'so he has to wait for the gas.'

'Would you like some biscuits' said Carmel.

'No thanks' said Sofia.

Carmel went into the house.

Sofia waited, looking around. She knew she hardly knew Finbar apart from waving at him and didn't quite figure out why she came. Carmel came back out with some biscuits.

'I used to see Finbar at the Saturday Matinee for kids, and various other places over the years.'

Sofia was a beautiful sixteen year old Sicilian girl with a British accent. There were slight traces of her Sicilian accent mixed in with a bit of Brummie and she had a slight tendency to pronounce the tee letter as a 'd' – she went on 'I didn't know he was in the scouts.'

Patrick came out with the pot of tea.

Chapter 31

Henry.

Novel Chapter 29

 

At six forty five, every weekday evening, Sydney tuned the radio, or the wireless, as he called it, to The Home Service. First of all he had made sure the battery had been charged at Barrett's Record and Music Shop so he could listen to 'The Archers;' the daily serial.

The radio volume was set quite high and everybody in the four cottages could hear it blasting. They knew Dan Archer and Peggy, even though they had no interest in the programme at all.

Irene was sitting in her chair and Sydney almost had his head next to the set.

Upstairs in their spare room, which was but a box room, as Finbar's was next door, was a well made up bed for the boy to sleep on Saturday. There was plenty of time to shop for his Shredded Wheat and Weetabix, but even though it was only Tuesday evening, his breakfast was ready for Sunday morning in their small pantry. They knew he liked his breakfast with hot water, to soften the cereal, and covered in sterilised milk and sugar.

Irene and Sydney ate bacon and eggs for breakfast every day, which they had been doing ever since rationing stopped when they couldn't buy enough for breakfast. They had a friend in Balsall Heath Road and another friend in Ombersley Road, whom they would swap food with and between them they shared their rationing. Doll Cadell in Balsall Heath Road, didn't like eggs at all, so she swapped with Irene and Sydney in exchange for cheese.

Rationing per person in the UK, for one week, was one egg, two ounces each of tea and butter, an ounce of cheese, eight ounces of sugar, four ounces of bacon and four ounces of margarine.

Sydney hated margarine so that went to Doll Cadell.

Their friend in Ombersley Road, Mona Hunter and her husband Ron, were Jewish, and didn't eat bacon so Irene and Sydney had their bacon and Mona and Ron had Irene and Sydney's margarine. Lots of things like that but when rationing stopped Irene and Sydney had a fried breakfast every day and used plenty of butter – best butter they called it.

They had lived alone for eight years since their only son, Ralph, had moved to Berlin upon his marriage to Margo, a German girl, he had met when he was in Germany during the war. He brought her home to meet mom and dad but, as they didn't have room at the cottage, they stayed with Mona and Ron Hunter in Ombersley Road, but a German living in a Jewish household didn't quite click. She didn't seem antisemitic and they didn't seem anti German. So the couple went to Berlin and, even though they wrote for a couple of years, they lost touch. All they had was a Christmas card each year: To Mom and dad, with lots of love: Margo and Ralph. Hope to be over this year. And that was on every Christmas card which they kept in a drawer. They didn't talk about Ralph much but they were heartbroken and they looked forward to Finbar staying in Ralph's bed.

But when Saturday night came there was no Finbar.

Irene and Sydney didn't know what to do as they didn't miss him till about nine-o-clock. They were never sure of the expected time of his arrival and both of them waited up till midnight. They could have gone to the police station in Edward Road, which was a short walk along the main road, but they wouldn't have known what to say.

They were not expecting Carmel and Patrick till about midday or so, as they were due in Birmingham on the boat train from Holyhead.

At the top of the lane mister Murdoch was taking his car out and about to turn into Moseley Road when he was stopped by the horse and cart of a rag and bone man.

“Do you know South View Terrace, mister?'

'Yes, it's down the lane there – who do you want?'

'I don't know' he said 'I found this bag.'
'oh?'

'It's for fun boy, or something like that.'

'FUN boy?' said Murdoch.

'Something like that. I found it in my travels and there's Birmanum twelve on it – on the label.'

'Let me see' said Murdoch getting out of his car.

The rag and bone man showed Murdoch Finbar's bag.

'I don't read too well and I found it on the road.'

'When was this?'

'Well I didn't find it. It was passed on to me by a colleague who wanders over there.'

'Where?'
'By the Lickies'

'When was this?'

'Few days ago . . Wednesday, I think – I can see the figure twelve and I know what Birmanum looks like.'

'I see.'

'Somebody said it was around here – South View Terrace, I mean. I was told it was on the ground it was – the bag that is - at the side of the horse road. My colleage knew I come this way - as far as Varna Road, and thereabouts but there's no pickings here – load of hoi polloi round here?'

'hoi polloi?' said Murdoch.

' ''septing for your self, like – I mean I don't mean you, squire.'

Murdoch went to his car and turned off the engine.

'The Lickey Hills?'
'That's what I said, well that's what he said.'

'Who?'

'The fella what found the bag.'

Murdoch was puzzled.

'What would you say if I said I know who this belongs to?'

'What would I say? - I don't know.'
'Let me make it worth your while' said Murdoch, putting his hand in to his pocket.

'Where at the Lickies?'

'Not far from the bottom of the hill – Rose Hill. I'll be honest with you guvnor, if it were worth anything I'd a kep' it.'

'Here we are' he gave him half a crown.

'Very kind of you, sir – very kind.'
'Okay.'

'I'll be on my way – Finbar, you say?'

'Yes.' said Murdoch.

'I could see the love the kid – Finbar – had for his stuff. He had string in there with knots I didn't know about, and loads of words of poems or songs that I didn't understand and things - and I could see it was a little lad – you can let him have it?'

'I will, sir – thank you very much. I'll tell him a kind man found his bag.'

'Here look at the stuff' he said, opening the bag 'string, look! Loads of it – papers, look! Pictures of plants and mushrooms and such – look! A cowboy.'

He showed Murdoch the picture of Gary Cooper in High Noon.

He fastened the bag and handed it to Murdoch.

'We'll be off.' he said 'I think the boy would be a kid after my own heart – bits of twigs he had, a ball of string – but no money.'
'You sure?'
'Cross my heart, guvnor, cross my heart.'

'Here' said Murdoch, and gave him another half-crown.

'Good man sir' said the rag and bone man as he grabbed the reins 'Good man - hucha.'

He and horse, headed south along Moseley Road pulling the cart and the rag and bone man to his next destination.

'Raga bowa – raga bowa' his voice faded into the distance which Murdoch could hear as he went down to Finbar's cottage leaving the car where it was. Sydney was standing at his garden gate.

'Hello, mister Melia - someone found Finbar's bag' he said as he passed Sydney 'Are they back from mass yet?'

'No – that's the trouble' said Sydney 'we don't know where he is.'

'Who?'

'Finbar – he's been away with the scouts - don't know where he is.'

Irene joined them.

'His mom and dad are on their holidays' she said 'and he was supposed to be coming to us last night, but he didn't come.'

'He was away with the boy scouts?' said Murdoch.

'Yes sir – his mom and dad are due back today.' said Irene.

'So Finbar's been missing since yesterday?'

'Yes sir' said Sydney.

'What time are Carmel and Paddy due back?'

'This afternoon.' said Irene.

'Leave it with me' said Murdoch 'I'll sort York out.'

'York?' said Irene.

'Scoutmaster.'

He went back up the lane, passed his car and went to Mr. York's house. His mother answered the door.

'Hello Mrs. York – is Alfred in.'

'Yes he is' she said 'Alfred?' she called.

Mr. York came down the stairs.

'Hello' he said 'What can I do for you?'

Mr. Murdoch drove his sports car to New Street Station, and waited as Mr. York went to find the time of the next train arriving from Holyhead. The station was at the bottom of a steep hill and as he waited there, Murdoch could see the platforms to his right and another to his left. In front of him was the other side of the steep hill; this time going up.

York had explained to Murdoch about calling the trip off and Finbar going off with a senior scout from Saint Agatha's troop.

'And you didn't check that he'd reached home?'

'To be honest, Doug, it went completely out of my mind.'

'Not good enough' said Murdoch 'we really ought to be calling the police – I mean who is this senior scout?'

'He was from the Saint Agatha troop – lives in Sherbourne Road.'

'Do you know him?'

'Slightly – Finbar didn't want to go with him. it sounded like some kind of fear of convertibles.'

'He was okay in my motor except for the rain.'

The fact that Finbar's bag was found at the Lickey Hills gave Mr. Murdoch – Mr. Douglas Murdoch; JP, by the way – ideas. He had noticed Finbar's fascination with the big tree, he seemed to see, which Murdoch couldn't, some kind of picture or etching on the inside, and was very comfortable leaning against what Finbar called a divine place to sit.

York returned.

'It's on time, Doug – be another five minutes they said.'

'How are we going to handle this?'

'How do you mean?'

'How do I mean?' said Murdoch 'What are we going to say to Paddy and Carmel about Finbar?'

Murdoch took out a packet of Senior Service cigarettes, and offered one to York.

'Senior Service' he said 'Must be doing well?'

'I've always smoked them – even when I was on my uppers.'

'Were you in the service?'

'Yes: Royal Navy – I was a Lieutenant.'

Eventually, Carmel and Patrick emerged from the station.

'Paddy' shouted Murdoch.

'Hello' said Patrick 'is this a royal welcome.'

'Afraid not;' said Murdoch 'I don't want to distress you but we're having a bit of difficulty locating young Finbar.'

'What do you mean?' said Carmel.

'If you get in, I'll try to explain.'

The Callaghans did no such thing 'What do you mean?' said Patrick.

'Where is he?' said Carmel.

“We're not sure.' said York.

'You're not sure?' said Patrick.

'We're not sure – we've just found his bag.' said Murdoch.

'We had to call the trip off on Tuesday, and . . ' said York.

Murdoch exited from the car and went around the back.

'You haven't seen him since . . you better tell me what's going on, fella – he went off with you and your scouts, and you've lost him.' said Patrick.

'Calm down, Paddy' said Murdoch.

'Don't be telling me to calm down! He's been missing for five days – where is he?'

'We had to call the . ' said York.

'Where is he?'

'We, we . ' stuttered York.

'Tell me now where he is.'

'I think I know where he is' said Murdoch 'the Lickey Hills.'

'The Lickey Hills!!!! And what's he doing there?'

'His bag was found there, and . '

'Have you been to the police?'

'No, Paddy – we've only just found out.' said Murdoch

'What?' said Carmel.

'If you'd both let me tell you . .'

'All right. I'm all ears.' said Patrick.

'What?'

'Go ahead – go on.'

Murdoch went around his car to Patrick 'the camp site was flooded so they had to call the trip off on Tuesday . . '

'And where's he been since then?' said Carmel.

'We had to organise a way . .' said York.

'You're making no sense' said Carmel ' if he's been missing since Tuesday, somebody should have gone to the police.'

'I'm trying to tell you' said York 'we had to take the boys from our troop and the Saint Agatha troop back in private cars. Dennis Reynolds took the Saint Agatha troop, young Daniel went back on the train and me and Tommy took our troops between us and as Tommy lives in Sherbourne Road - he took Finbar.'

'Tommy?'

'Yes' said York 'a senior scout at Saint Agatha's.'

'Let's get round to this Tommy, in Sherbourne Road?'

'We've been' said Murdoch 'there's no one in.'

Patrick recognized the name.

'Tommy? – the one who liked little boys?'

'What do you mean' said York.

'He hung around young kids – Finbar told me about him. Used to put his hand up their shorts, so Finbar said . .'

'Didn't you report him?' said York.

'No.'

'None of your business, was it?' said York.

He looked accusingly at Patrick.

'I never thought.'

'It's everybody's business – we're always careful with Scoutmasters . '

'But never the scouts themselves?' said Murdoch 'Tommy Bull.'

'You know him?' said Patrick.

'He came before you didn't he' said York 'Is it the same one who was caught dodging his fare on the buses.'

'What do you mean he came before you?' said Patrick.

'I'm a magistrate' said Murdoch 'the case was mentioned in the newspaper – Evening Despatch, so it's in the public domain.'

'In the what?' said Patrick.

'The public domain.' said Murdoch 'which is why I can confirm it. Listen, I'm sure I know where Finbar is, but how he is, I don't know.'

'What happened to the old bus you went off in?' said Carmel.

Nobody answered.

Patrick went to the front of the car and said to York 'Get up – I'm sitting there.'

York got up.

'In fact you may as well go home, if he's where Doug says he is we'll need this seat.'

York started to reply 'Don't you think . . .?

'You lost our son – so you are done here.'

York got out and stood there looking lost.

'Get the forty nine bus, down there or the fifty and you'll be home in no time.'

'And don't forget to pay your fare.' said Murdoch.

'Get hold of Tommy and tell him I want to see him.' called Patrick after York.

As they drove to the top of the hill, to exit New Street Station Carmel said 'I think we should still go to the police.'

'If it'll make you feel better' said Murdoch 'I'll drop you off at Steelhouse Lane – tell them Finbar is missing and we think he is somewhere near Rose Hill, Rednal.'

'Rose Hill, Rednal' repeated Carmel as she got out of the car.

Murdoch and Patrick proceeded along Bristol Road South to The Lickey Hills. Quietly as they both went into a land of thought, trying not to fear what might have happened to Finbar. Patrick trying to relax his rage about Tommy, and he didn't like York's insinuation that he should have reported Tommy when Finbar had told him about what he was doing to the younger boys.

Murdoch had other thoughts: hoping he was right about Finbar, that he would be all right because of his reaction to the tree, and the ambience of the trees, and how a boy who avoided all kinds of education from his school, would have the word divine in his vocabulary.

It might have been a twenty minute drive at that time on that Sunday, but not a word was spoken between them: no talk of how Carmel would be able to explain how her son had been missing for five days without any sign - how could that be explained?

As their thoughts were digested and flown into some kind of osmosis they became as one when they both exclaimed 'I hope he's all right.'

Almost at one just short of a harmony.

Murdoch stopped at a traffic light in Selly Oak and they looked at each other. Not another word out of them and not an expression on either of their faces, but each of them knew what the other was thinking.

Beep – beep!

A blast of a horn from the number sixty one bus and off they went again – silence.

Murdoch pulled in to where he had parked on the day of the picnic. Tommy – he knew who he was, when he was mentioned as it seemed silly for someone who could easily afford it, to avoid paying his fare on the bus. Murdoch always noticed the mode of dress and the air of anybody brought up before him, on the bench, but it was a conundrum to have to be taken to court and be reported in the newspaper for such a paltry sum of money; and now he was driving a sports car – a two seater at the age of just eighteen.

When they crossed over the road, Murdoch stopped just before ascending the hill – 'this is where I believe his bag was found. Away from the road, I should think.'

'Who by?'

'A rag and bone man.' said Murdoch.

'A rag and bone man' said Patrick 'up here up that bloody hill? When was this?'

'This morning' said Murdoch 'at the top of your lane.'

'He found it here and took it all the way to Balsall Heath?'

'I suppose so.'

'On a Sunday morning?' said Patrick 'doesn't smell right to me.'

'I waas getting the car out and he came and asked if I knew South View Terrace.'

Patrick held up Finbar's bag 'Where does is say South View Terrace on the bag – it just says Moseley Scout group.'

Patrick looked around. Then they walked on and after about fifty or sixty yards he stopped. As the grass and bushes parted he saw something shining. He went to it and it was Finbar's harmonica. He picked it up and it was slightly battered as if it had been dropped.

Walking up Rose Hill, was new to Patrick, but Murdoch probably knew every step, and when he came to a slight gap, he went through it and Patrick followed him. They came to the tree, the tree where Finbar had seen the etching and they stopped.

The two men looked toward the tree and Murdoch beckoned forward.

'Finbar' he called.

On the previous Tuesday, after the rain had stopped, Finbar was standing inside the tree, listening out for Tommy – for a moment he thought he heard rustling in some bushes and presumed it was an animal; or was it?

All Hushed.

All Quiet.

Then: ''Finbar?' Tommy's voice.

Again.

'Finbar?'

Was it near, was it far?

He didn't know.

A flash of the torch between the breaks in the trees.

He didn't move.

He tried hard not to breath.

Finbar stood with his back to the bark of the inside of the tree because, even though he was in the hollow of it, there was bark in there. He faced the man on the wall, the plant man or the picture or etching of it, and as it had whiskers it must be a man but there again – the whiskers were of plants and not hair growing from the body – he was standing looking at a delineation of man; neither male or female. All those thoughts and summations accompanied him for an hour and by that time he was sure Tommy had gone.

It was still Tuesday and on that Tuesday, not one morsel of food or drink, had passed his lips, and though he might not have known the word, his electrolytes were craving.

What did Tommy want with him? He suspected he wanted some kind of fiddling or sex and he knew that Tommy knew it wouldn't happen; so what did he want? To silence him?

It was a full moon when he put his head out through the trees and if Tommy had been lurking in the vicinity, he would have heard the churning and turning of Finbar's stomach, or wherever the noise of hunger comes from. He could see bushes with things growing from them, he knew if they were a nasty colour they would be poison; but he needed something. He couldn't feel any moisture from leaves but leaves are leaves and not berries which could be poison, so he pulled a bunch of leaves and, making sure they were not stingers, chewed them which kind of quenched his thirst. He knew they were clean, because of the rain and after a few chews a slight taste ensued.

He knew what magic mushrooms looked like and he knew all the poisonous mushrooms but there were pinkish mushrooms with white spots. He pulled some up and smelled them. Then he licked some of the white spots and they were delicious. Maybe be a bit like sea side rock. Sweet and sticky. He ate a few and it went well with the leaves.

He went back into the tree and the man on the wall was as bright as ever which radiated a glow around the place. As he got near to the circumflex it looked dark inside and when he crossed the threshold the ambience changed and he seemed to be in another world. When he took a step backwards he was outside and the circumflex was dark again.

Back inside, he sat on the shape coming from the tree – it was more like a seat now. The man on the wall had its eyes closed and the next thing Finbar heard was the loud song of a robin – it was morning.

He looked outside and there was a fox lying across the threshold as if on guard. He didn't know anything about foxes and when he stood up the fox got up and walked a few yards away and lay down like any other dog.

Then he noticed the very end of the tail was missing as if . . . he thought of his daddy's chickens and the fox which was caught in the chicken wire; years ago?

Couldn't be. ?

It seemed there was more space outside the tree than he had realised and it was like a clearing in the woods, something like Robin Hood which he had been watching in serial form on the television.

Looking back he saw that the man on the wall had its eyes open. He knew he had slept well but he didn't know for how long as he didn't have a watch. It was August so it could be any time, he was still confused when he heard rustling in one of the bushes so he went back through the circumflex and the fox followed him and lay, again, across the threshold.

The man on the wall had a slight smile on its face and, even though he could easily see it, it looked faded.

More rustling outside.

He ventured closer to the fox to see what was outside – Tommy?

A boy of his age was standing. Not a word from him, not a movement. Finbar didn't know if the boy could see him, as he sneaked a look and, as he didn't seem threatening, or frightening, he stepped outside.

'There you are, Finbar' he said.

This shocked Finbar 'how . . . how do you know my name?'

'I'm Henry.'

It didn't make Finbar move an inch, he looked at him and he had blond hair, like Finbar, but his was much longer: he was about the same age and he was dressed a bit like the characters from long ago – how long ago he didn't know, maybe the time of Robin Hood and he had some kind of flute in his belt and a small holster.

'What are those pictures on your shirt?'

'These?' said Finbar, indicating the scout badges.

'Yes - they're evil.'

'In what way?'

'Many ways' said Henry 'the arrow head is a weapon, that flower is bad. It has the meaning somewhere to obey. To whom?'

'To whom? I don't know.'

'You are wearing badges and you don't know what they mean! One says “duty to god OR scout values” what is that; what is 'or'? Which god?'

'I didn't know that' said Finbar.

Finbar looked at Henry with his oh familiar face, his sun tanned legs, looking something like the boy who was with Tarzan, not wearing shoes but some kind of cloth instead.

'Who are you?'

'You don't know?'

'No.'

Finbar turned away: the fox got up and lay across the circumflex again, this stopped Finbar from going back inside.

He turned back to Henry 'What day is it?'

'Tomorrow' said Henry 'come on, let's go.'

'Where?' said Finbar.

'Time to eat but first we must destroy those evil badges.'

He took the knife from its holster - it fascinated Finbar.

'Offizeirsmesser' said Henry 'an officer's knife in the Swiss army.

'Take your shirt off.'

'Where did you get that?' said Finbar.

'It was here – soldiers were here during the war. It was a high place where they looked out for the enemy. One of the soldiers gave the knife to me.'

'Swiss soldiers?'

'Soldiers with badges – good soldiers, good badges.'

Finbar took off his shirt and Henry, with one of the applications on the knife, started cutting the badges off the shirt and putting them into a pile. Then he scraped dirt from the ground with some little twigs and surrounded the badges: 'There!' he said 'I collected the twigs when I saw it was going to rain.'

He took a piece of flint from his shirt pocket a metal spring looking object from another and, with a piece of black cloth to use as kindling he struck the flint against the metal a few times. Sparks flew from the flint into the twigs and a little glow from one of the sparks started to glow into a flame and burnt the badges.

'What do you think of that?' he said.

'No much' said Finbar 'the scouts taught me how to do it.'

A nice little fire burnt the badges and sticks.

'Do you have a kettle' said Finbar, which made Henry laugh.

'Come on – let's get some food.