"Cooper, Susan - Dark is Rising 01 - Over Sea, Under Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cooper Susan)

Barney crossed to her in silence and helped her to her feet. The boy sullenly began picking up his spilled tins and slamming them back into the box. Jane picked one up to help. But as she reached it towards the box the boy knocked her hand away, sending the tin spinning across the quay.

'Leave 'n alone,' he growled.

'Look here,' Simon said indignantly, 'there's no need for that.'

'Shut y' mouth,' said the boy shortly, without even looking up.

'Shut your own,' Simon said belligerently.

'Oh Simon, don't,' Jane said unhappily. If he wants to be beastly let him.' Her leg was stinging viciously, and blood trickled down from the graze on her knee. Simon looked at her flushed face, hearing the strain in her voice. He bit his lip.

The boy pushed his bicycle to lean against the pile of boxes, scowling at Barney as he jumped nervously out of the way; then rage suddenly snarled out of him again. '- off, the lot of 'ee,' he snapped; they had never heard the word he used, but the tone was unmistakable, and Simon went hot with resentment and clenched his fists to lunge forward. But Jane clutched him back, and the boy moved quickly to the edge of the quay and climbed down over the edge, facing them, the box of groceries in his arms. They heard a thumping, clattering noise, and looking over the edge they saw him lurching about in a rowing-dinghy. He untied its mooring-rope from a ring in the wall and began edging out through the other boats into the open harbour, standing up with one oar thrust down over the stern. Moving hastily and angrily, he clouted the dinghy hard against the side of one of the big fishing-boats, but took no notice. Soon he was out in open water, sculling rapidly, one-handed, and glaring back at them in sneering contempt.

As he did so they heard a clatter of feet moving rapidly over hollow wood from inside the injured fishing-boat. A small, wizened figure popped up suddenly from a hatch in the deck and waved its arms about in fury, shouting over the water towards the boy in a surprisingly deep voice.

The boy deliberately turned his back, still sculling, and the dinghy disappeared outside the harbour entrance, round the jutting wall.

The little man shook his fist, then turned towards the quay, leaping neatly from the deck of one boat to another, until he reached the ladder in the wall and climbed up by the children's feet. He wore the inevitable navy-blue jersey and trousers, with long boots reaching up his legs.

'Clumsy young limb, that Bill 'Oover,' he said crossly. 'Wait'll I catch 'n, that's all, just wait.'

Then he seemed to realise that the children were more than just part of the quay. He grunted, flashing a quick glance at their tense faces, and the blood on Jane's knee. Thought I heard voices from below,' he said, more gently. You been 'avin' trouble with 'n?' He jerked his head out to sea.

'He knocked my sister over with his bike,' Simon said indignantly. 'It was my fault really, I made her run into him, but he was beastly rude and he bashed Jane's hand away and - and then he went off before I could hit him,' he ended lamely.

The old fisherman smiled at them. 'Ah well, don't 'ee take no count of 'n. He'm a bad lot, that lad, evil-tempered as they come and evil-minded with ut. You keep away from 'n.'

'We shall,' Jane said with feeling, rubbing her leg gingerly.

The fisherman clicked his tongue. 'That's a nasty old cut you got there, midear, you want to go and get 'n washed up. You'm on holiday here, I dessay.'

'We're staying in the Grey House,' Simon said. 'Up there on the hill.'

The fisherman glanced at him quickly, a flicker of interest passing over the impassive brown wrinkled face. 'Are 'ee, then? I wonder maybe' - then he stopped short, strangely, as if he were quickly changing his mind about what he had been going to say. Simon, puzzled, waited for him to go on. But Barney, who had not been listening, turned round from where he had been peering over the edge of the quay.

'Is that your boat out there?'

The fisherman looked at him, half taken aback and half amused, as he would have looked at some small unexpected animal that barked. 'That's right, me 'andsome. The one I just come off.'

'Don't the other fishermen mind you jumping over their boats?'

The old man laughed, a cheerful rusty noise. 'I'd'n no other way to get ashore from there. Nobody minds you comin' across their boat, so long's you don't mark 'er.'

'Are you going out fishing?'

'Not for a while, midear,' said the fisherman amiably, pulling a piece of dirty rag from his pocket and scrubbing at the oil marks on his hands. 'Go out with sundown, we do, and come back with the dawn.'

Barney beamed. 'I shall get up early and watch you come in.'