Will tugged at his mothers hand and said, "e on, e on..."
But his mother hung back. She was still afraid. Will looked up and down the narrow street in the evening light, along the little terrace of houses, each behind its tiny garden and its box hedge, with the sun glaring off the windows of one side and leaving the other in shadow. There wasnt much time. People would be having their meal about now, and soon there would be other children around, to stare and ent and notice. It was dangerous to wait, but all he could do ersuade her, as usual.
"Mum, lets go in and see Mrs. Cooper," he said. "Look, were nearly there."
"Mrs. Cooper?" she said doubtfully.
But he was already ringing the bell. He had to put down the bag to do it, because his other hand still held his mothers. It might have bothered him at twelve years of age to be seen holding his mothers hand, but he knew what would happen to her if he didnt.
The door opened, and there was the stooped elderly figure of the piano teacher, with the st of lavender water about her as he remembered.
"Whos that? Is that William?" the old lady said. "I havent seen you for over a year. What do you want, dear?"
"I want to e in, please, and bring my mother," he said firmly.
Mrs. Cooper looked at the woman with the untidy hair and the distracted half-smile, and at the boy with the fierce, unhappy glare in his eyes, the tight-set lips, the jutting jaw. And then she saw that Mrs. Parry, Wills mother, had put makeup on one eye but not oher. And she hadnt noticed. Aher had Will. Something was wrong.
"Well..." she said, and stepped aside to make room in the narrow hall.
Will looked up and down the road before closing the door, and Mrs. Cooper saw how tightly Mrs.
Parry was ging to her sons hand, and how tenderly he guided her into the sitting room where the piano was (of course, that was the only room he knew); and she noticed that Mrs. Parrys clothes smelled slightly musty, as if theyd been too long in the washing mae before drying; and how similar the two of them looked as they sat on the sofa with the evening sun full on their faces, their broad cheekboheir wide eyes, their straight black brows.
"What is it, William?" the old lady said. "Whats the matter?"
"My mother needs somewhere to stay for a few days," he said. "Its too difficult to look after her at home just now. I dont mean shes ill. Shes just kind of fused and muddled, and she gets a bit worried. She wont be hard to look after. She just needs someoo be kind to her, and I think you could do that quite easily, probably."
The woman was looking at her son without seeming to uand, and Mrs. Cooper saw a bruise on her cheek. Will hadnt taken his eyes off Mrs. Cooper, and his expression was desperate.
"She wont be expensive," he went on. "Ive brought some packets of food, enough to last, I should think. You could have some of it too. She wont mind sharing."
"But ... I dont know if I should ... Doesnt she need a doctor?"
"No! Shes not ill."
"But there must be someone who ... I mean, isnt there a neighbor or someone in the family—"
"We havent got any family. Only us. And the neighbors are too busy."
"What about the social services? I doo put you off, dear, but—"
"No! No. She just needs a bit of help. I t do it myself for a little while, but I wont be long. Im going to ... Ive got things to do. But Ill be back soon, and Ill take