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Christ, Genevieve had said. She had Jack gamely hanging off one tit at the time and Zoe had only just finished breastfeeding. Ill retrain. Christ. Are you up for it Genevieve shifted a tumbling curl out of her eye and hitched baby Jack higher on her nipple. Do I get to look at the place The condensation on the windshield glass matched Peters state of mind. He was misted, paralyzed between the act of getting up and knocking on the door and sinking farther into his seat. He and Richie had been hood friends up to and until shortly after Taras disappearance. They shared a lot of history: ish things, stupid things. One time, when he was eleven, Peter had been foolish enough to walk across a frozen pond. In the middle of the pond hed dropped straight through the ice. His weight had cut a perfect and circular hole. As he struggled to haul himself back onto the ice it splintered in his hands and gave way again and again, each time sending Peter plunging back down into the freezing water. Richie did everything you are instructed not to do in such a situation: he walked calmly across the ice, reached down an arm, and pulled Peter out of the water. Stupid, Peter spat, shivering as they walked home together, he soaked and freezing. You could have gone through the ice, too. Yeh. You pulled me out. Yeh. We both could have died. Yeh. Stupid. Yeh. We all know it now. Youth fears nothing because it knows nothing. But something had started. In my head, something had started. It was like the scent from the bluebells that day had ripped me open like a drug. That scent was always just at the edge of my senses, lodged somewhere in my throat, on my fingers, in my nostrils, until I tried to smell it or taste it again, and I couldnt. It was there all the time; but when I tried to look for it, to trap it, it was gone. But it was having a strange effect on me. I felt all the time that I might just float off this planet.

And my head was hot. Do you remember that poem: I went out to the hazel wood Because a fire was in my head. Ive always loved that because that was how I felt so often, and when I did feel like that I would come to these woods until the fire burned out. But this was different. The back of my head felt hot. I knew something was going to happen. I remember getting home that day and Mum asking me if I was all right. I said I was fine. Then Richie called but Id already primed Mum to tell him Id got back safely from the Outwoods but I wasnt in right now. Have you two had words she asked me. Words. I know, and you dont. I should have been a little afraid, but I wasnt. I said, Thats the whitest horse Ive ever seen. It is, he said. Its the whitest horse youve ever seen; and its the whitest horse you will ever see. He had an unusual accent. I dont know what it was, though I liked the sound of it well enough. And thats why hes mine. He sat there for an uncomfortable moment or two as we eyed each other. Whats its name I said, just to break the silence. Tssk, he went, and he smirked at me like I was a bit simple. You dont give a horse a name. They dont like to have names. Ive never heard that, I said, defiant. I expect you havent heard a lot of things, you being a slip of a young . He was very quick with his answers, but he softened them with a smile on his moist red lips. He wasnt so old himself. Maybe about thirty, so I thought. Too old for me, but not so old. Then he said, That looks like a very comfortable pillow youve found for yourself there. A very comfortable pillow.

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