LITMIR.BIZ

      At break, Iggy hangs out with some older boys, although I don’t think they like him much because I heard them mocking his accent once when he wasn’t there. Anyway, after lunch I was walking through the east playground and there was a group – mainly boys, some girls – gathered in the top corner. I recognised one or two of them as being Iggy’s so-called friends.

      I heard Iggy’s voice say, ‘Ladies and gentlemen: behold the mighty power of the Death Ray!’

      There was a long pause.

      I heard someone say, ‘Come on, get on with it.’

      Then someone else said, ‘Hey, look!’

      There was a cheer, followed by a plume of smoke rising into the air, and then everybody started to run away from it. I saw Iggy putting his glasses back on and I knew what had happened. The contents of the wire-mesh litter bin were fully ablaze; heaven knows what was in it for it to go up so fast, but the hot weather must have made everything tinder-dry.

      As the crowd dispersed, though, I saw the flames flickering up to a wooden noticeboard with flaking paint and that had started to catch fire as well. I thought it best to make myself scarce and had sort of melted back into the crowd as Mr Springham strode at top speed towards the litter bin, holding a fire extinguisher.

      ‘WHO DID THAT? WHOEVER IS RESPONSIBLE WILL HAVE HELL TO PAY!’

      Nadia got her revenge by telling everyone about Iggy’s Death Ray, and how he had used it to set fire to the litter bin. It soon reached the ears of the teachers. It earned him another suspension from school, plus detentions and letters home for everyone who had watched and encouraged him. Of course, they were all furious about this and I don’t think it did Iggy’s already fragile popularity any good at all.

      And Iggy? I didn’t see him much after that, even though we live in the same village. I mean, we’d never exactly been besties anyway but Mam and Dad were hardly going to encourage me to hang out with him now, were they?

      Then shortly before Christmas, Tammy and I saw Iggy down by the jetty, and he had brought a chicken with him. Like, a live one.

      Tammy had declared that it was the annual final of Stones in the Lake. (Best of five games, loser buys the winner a muffin from the school tuck-shop.) It was two games each, and it was all down to my last throw. I drew my arm back, determined to win this one, and as I threw with all my strength I heard the shout, ‘SUZY!’ and it put me right off. I knew before my stone hit the water that I had lost and I swung round angrily to see who had shouted. Tammy was giggling like mad.

      ‘Who was …’ I began, and then I saw Iggy emerge from the path, followed by a small, ginger-coloured chicken. He was putting the chicken down then walking away and the chicken was staying put, just like a dog. Then he called, ‘Suzy, come!’ And the chicken got up and hopped over to him!

      Tammy said, ‘Awwww!’ like it was a cute kitten. Iggy saw us watching and came over. I was still cross about losing at Stones in the Lake, and I tutted quietly.

      ‘Chickens,’ he said. ‘Cleverer than you’d think, you know? Suzy: sit!’

      The chicken stopped and crouched down. Tammy gasped and gave a little clap.

      ‘Where did you get him?’ I said, warily.

      ‘Her,’ Iggy corrected. ‘My dad says I should have something to look after. You know, to make me “responsible”. He said he looked after chickens when he was in rehab.’ He added air quotes with his fingers and seemed completely unembarrassed about his dad. ‘As if! Anyway, I rescued her from old Tommy Natrass who didn’t want her cos she only lays teeny-tiny eggs. Don’t you, Suzy?’

      Suzy looked up at the mention of her name, just like a dog does. Tammy and I both laughed, and Tammy squeezed my arm and said, ‘Oh, that’s so cuuute!’ in a squeaky voice, and then hummed her favourite song ‘The Chicken Hop’ all the way home. That evening, Mam had made chicken pie for tea. Tam said she wasn’t hungry.

      So, that’s Iggy and Suzy. The next time I saw them was when I nearly broke his mum’s fingers with the piano lid.