Page 33 of The Other Side

“We were going to drive them to the village green.”

Drum blinked. That was a different story.

“Just overnight,” Tim said.

His father sighed heavily. “Why?”

Tim shrugged. “Because it would’ve been funny.”

His father closed his eyes. “Dear God.”

“People would’ve talked about it for weeks,” Tim said. “Imagine waking up and finding Fred Breakwater’s sheep grazing by the war memorial.”

“The fact that people would talk about it doesn’t make it a good idea,” Drum said.

“No?”

“No,” his father bellowed. “I’m Chairman of the Parish Council. Can you imagine what people would think when they found out what you’d been up to. Whatever you’d planned to do to those sheep, it would have been twisted to something shameful. You stupid boy.”

The room fell quiet until a woman suddenly burst in.

“This is my wife,” Motson said. “Tim—”

“What on earth is this about?” she barked.

“Tim and the Varley boys have done something stupid,” Motson said.

“No doubt instigated by them.” She glared at her son, then at Drum.

Her husband filled her in on the details and Drum watched her get more and more angry with Tim. The boy’s head was down and Drum could see he was embarrassed. His mother was ranting at him.

“You know what would happen if Mr Breakwater wanted to make a point about this?” she snapped.

“We’d be arrested,” Tim mumbled.

“And?”

Tim thought about it. “You would’ve killed me.”

His father made a noise that suggested this wasn’t entirely inaccurate. His mother rolled her eyes. Drum fought back a smile.

“Tempting,” she said. “But try again.”

Tim sighed. “I’d have a criminal record.”

“Finally. Then try and get a job. You thoughtless boy.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Tim muttered.

Drum let the silence sit for a few moments. “Tell me something, Tim.”

“What?”

“You come up with a plan involving stealing sheep. You involve two boys who’d struggle to organise a picnic. At no point does your brain tell you this is a terrible idea?”

For the first time, Tim laughed. A short, reluctant laugh. “Not at the time.”

His mother pointed at him. “And there’s the problem.”