Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

SHINING THEIR TORCHES ROUND the dark dining room, the two boys spoke in whispers for fear of making a noise. Though there was nobody in the house but themselves, they were both aware how easy it would be for them to arouse the suspicions of the neighbours. Terry was the more nervous of the two.

     “We’d better not stay long,” he said, closing the window by which they had just entered. “It’s too risky!”

     Colin, in spite of his fears, was elated by their success in breaking in. Knowing that the catch was loose, he had managed to lever the window open with an iron bar. “We’ll be okay,” he said. “Nobody saw us!”

     He led the way into the front room, treading quietly. One of the neighbours had been in earlier to draw the curtains, so there was no danger of the light from their torches being seen from outside. Almost immediately he went to the sideboard and began rummaging through one of the drawers. Terry stood watching him.

     “What you looking for?”

     “Money. What do you think?”

     It was their friend Trevor’s home. Trevor and his family had gone away on holiday, but it was said that they had difficulty making ends meet. Terry did not believe that they would find any money, either there or anywhere else in the house. Before long Colin began to lose interest in what he was doing.

     “D’you want to look down here while I go upstairs?” he asked.

     Terry could hardly believe his luck, for It was just what he had been about to suggest. He was so excited that he had begun to tremble.

     “If you like,” he said.

     “You won’t get scared and clear off, will you?”

     “Of course I won’t!”

     Colin looked at him mistrustfully, then went over to the door that led to the hall. For a moment he seemed about to change his mind. Terry shone his torch into the drawer, pretending to take no notice of him.

     “I’ll be in Trev’s room,” said Colin.

     “Trev’s room?” asked Terry. “What for? There’s nothing we want in there!”

     Colin went out of the room without answering. At first there was no sound from the hall and Terry sensed that he was waiting outside the door. A moment later he heard him going up the stairs. When he heard the door of one of the bedrooms opening, he closed the drawer of the sideboard and went over to the bookcase the other side of the room, where he knew that Trevor’s father kept his stamp collection.

     It was a large collection, mainly of old British and Colonial stamps, which Terry had long coveted. He hadn’t reminded Colin about it because he wanted to avoid having to share it with him. Eagerly, he opened the doors of the bookcase and shone his torch along the shelves.

     His excitement had reached a pitch of intensity. Though he had seen it only once before and wasn’t even sure of its colour, he had had no doubt that he would recognise the album at a glance.

     Now, however, he found that he could not do so, for many of the books on the shelves were large cloth-bound volumes: it could have been any one of them. Some had no title printed on the spine, while others were so badly worn that they could not be read, especially in the light of Terry’s torch. In astonishment and disbelief, he looked along the shelves again and again.

     Which one was it? he wondered.

     Disheartened by this turn of events, he began to remove some of the books, one at a time, in order to look inside them. One after another turned out to be a war or travel book. Even more discouraging was the possibility which suddenly occurred to him, that perhaps the album wasn’t there at all.

     Could it have been left somewhere else? He distinctly remembered that it had been taken from the bookcase on the occasion that it had been shown to him. But perhaps it wasn’t always kept there?

     He was frightened now, for he hadn’t expected to remain in the house very long. He had thought that he would be able to make off with the stamp collection while Colin was still upstairs. Yet he persisted in his search for it, and looked at every one of the books which could conceivably be the one, only to find that it wasn’t there.

     Where was it then? he wondered, shining his torch round the zoom. In the sideboard? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms?

     He couldn’t make up his mind where to look, and with growing despondency he replaced all the books he had taken from the shelves and locked the door of the bookcase. He looked round the room again and then, half-heartedly, began to search the cupboards of the sideboard. It wasn’t there either:

     Near to panic, he began to despair of finding it. He could stand the tension no longer. Giving up the search, he was tempted to leave the house on his own, without telling Colin that he was going. But it was the moment of leaving that he feared most of all, for he and Colin were both known by all the neighbours, and he knew that they would have to be lucky to get away from the house unnoticed. He dreaded the thought of trying it on his own.

     After a lot of hesitation, he made his way upstairs, whispering aloud his friend’s name. The door of Trevor’s bedroom, the small room at the front of the house, creaked open.

“That you, Terry?” asked Colin.

     He stood aside to let him into the room. It wasn’t quite so dark there, because the curtains were thinner. Colin had been searching the built-in wardrobe, the door of which still stood open.

     “That Trevor’s a rotten liar” he said bitterly. “He told me he’s got a gold watch, and he hasn’t!”

     “You didn’t believe that, did you?” asked Terry. “Is that what you’ve been looking for?”

     “Well, he told me he’d got one! He said he kept it in this cupboard. But there’s just a lot of junk here. You have a look!”

     “He hasn’t got one!” said Terry. “You don’t want to believe anything he tells you. You know he’s always telling lies!”

     “Yeah, I s’pose so,” said Cohn.

     But he wasn’t convinced, and went on shining his torch aimlessly into the wardrobe. Suddenly he turned it up towards a shelf at the top.

     “Let’s just have another look up here,” he said, moving a chair that stood nearby.

     “No, come on!” said Terry. “Let’s go now. There’s nothing we want in here.”

     “What, already? We haven’t been in his mum and dad’s room yet.”

     “Well, I’m going. It’s too risky here.”

     “Just wait for a minute then. I won’t be long.”

     “Oh, all right! But hurry up.”

     Having given up all hope of finding the stamp collection, Terry was in a dismal mood, and being in Colin’s presence again made little difference. He brooded upon the idea of being caught by one of the neighbours, and started at the slightest unexpected sound.

     Colin stood on the chair and shone his torch onto the shelf, moving various objects about with little enthusiasm. He, too, seemed about to give up when suddenly he let out an exclamation of surprise.

     “Look at this!” he said excitedly. “Just look at this!”

     Terry looked up, expecting to see a gold watch in Colin’ s hand. Instead he saw a slender double-edged sheath-knife.

     “It’s my knife!” said Colin. “What d’you think of that, then?”

     Terry stared at it incredulously. He was so surprised that for a moment his fears subsided. “Where was it?” he asked.

     “Up here, on the shelf!”

     “But how could it have got there? He must have nicked it off you!”

     “I knew I hadn’t lost it!” said Colin. “Walt till I see that Trevor!”

     “It’s just the sort of rotten thing he would do!” said Terry.

     Colin got off the chair and put the knife into his belt. In the excitement of his discovery, he had lost interest in the gold watch. “I’ve still got the sheath at home,” he said.

     “Come on!”

     He meant it this time, and walked out onto the landing before Colin had the chance to argue about it. Colin closed the door of the wardrobe and followed him down the stairs.

     “Did you find anything?” he asked.

     “No,” said Terry. “Nothing.”

     Returning to the dining-room, they put their torches away and looked out of the window, scanning the neighbouring gardens.

     “We’d better go back the way we came,” said Colin.

     Pushing open the window, he climbed out and moved quietly through the shadows to the corner of the house. Terry held back for a moment and then, at a signal from Colin, climbed out too. He shut the window behind him and went over to Colin’ s side.

     “There’s no one about,” said Colin. “Ready?”

     The two boys looked at each other indecisively, then ran down the garden path, almost falling over each other in their haste. Clambering over the fence at the bottom, they threw themselves onto the ground the other side and peered through the spaces between the stakes.

     “We’ve made it!” said Colin breathlessly. “We’ve made it, Terry!”

     The ground they were lying on was part of a large triangular area used as allotments. Looking back at the house, Terry was overcome by a fit of trembling. He could hardly believe that nobody had noticed them.

     Colin got out his knife and stuck it into the ground several times in quick succession, getting accustomed to the feel of it again.

     “I’m glad I found this,” he said. “Isn’t Trevor rotten, nicking it off me?”

     “Yes, he’s a rotten thief,” said Terry. “It’s just the sort of sneaky thing he would do! I’m not going to play with him any more.”

     There was a stillness in the air: a moment of absolute silence. Colin stuck the knife into the ground several more times, then put it back into his belt. Before long he and Terry got to their feet and made off across the allotments, occasionally stumbling in the darkness.