He thought for a while and then he said two pounds. That's dear I said but it's well worth it. I talked a bit more about the books and then I handed them back to him. The best books in the town – easy! I said. Then we walked on another bit, still talking about music. I told him da had plenty of records. I said he had hundreds, because he had. Do youse ever buy records, Philip, I said. He said they did. Who buys them, I asked and he said his da. Does your mother not buy any? I said. He shook his head and said no. When it came to records it was his da did all the buying because it was mostly him was interested in them. Oh, I said, and then I said I'll bet your ma never bought a record called The Butcher Boy did she Philip? He said she didn't. No, I said, what would she want to go and buy that for? Did you ever hear it Philip? I said. He said he didn't. Not even on the radio? I said. He said no. I said: You didn't miss much, Philip. It's the stupidest song in the world. I started laughing. Do you know what it's about? I asked him but he said he didn't and shook his head. You'd think I was stupid if I told you Philip I said and looked at him wiping the tears out of my eyes for every time I thought of how stupid it was it made me laugh all over again. No I wouldn't says Philip. You would, I said, I know you would. No I wouldn't, he says. Do you know what its about Philip I said its all about a woman hanging from a rope all because this butcher boy told her lies. Did you ever hear the like of it, I said, and it sounded so daft now that I had to steady myself against the railway wall.

That wouldn't be much of a song says Philip and whatever way he said it it set me off again with the tears streaming down my face. Then I says to him: You wouldn't catch your ma paying out money for a song the like of that would you Philip?

He didn't really say anything just ran his fingers through his hair and said mm but then when I said it again he said no you wouldn't. I said I know I know you wouldn't.

I shook my head and said its some laugh have you a hanky Philip and he gave me a lend of it then on we went.

We were getting along right well and his cheeks weren't so flushed now so I started talking to him about the comics and how it had all been meant to be a joke and everything. It was all supposed to be a bit of a laugh Philip I said. We would have given the comics back to you. He said I had got him in trouble. Ah the Pig Toll Tax, I said, that! That was stupid. You don't have to pay that! I laughed away as I kicked a stone on ahead. Did you ever hear anything so stupid as a pig toll tax! Paying money to get by on the street! You must be joking I said and then the two of us were laughing away at how stupid it was. Imagine if everybody had to pay it! Sure nobody would ever get anywhere. Well man dear, I said, a pig toll tax! Not at all, Philip, that was all cod! He was glad to hear that, I could tell. Then I told him about the comics I got from my aunt in America. Comics like you never seen in your whole life, I said. Not English ones, you couldn't get these in England or anywhere, oh no – only America. You just never seen the like of them Philip I told him. I have them all stashed in the chickenhouse, Philip, I said. I went there every day and what a laugh I had reading about all these superheroes. Your man comes at Green Lantern I says. Next thing bam! a big giant hammer comes flying out of his ring and splatters him. And that's only Green Lantern. There's far more than him that could do even better things than that! Nothing would do Philip now till he saw these comics. You can go to music any time I said, I might have to swop or sell these comics very soon. We went down the back way. Nobody knew about the way into the chickenhouse through the broken window at the back only me and Joe. When you got inside there you were in the dark warm world of chirps and burbles. The lightbulbs came right down from the ceiling and hung straight in front of your face. They were only maybe four feet off the floor. This is the first time I was ever in here says Philip its great. It was a secret world and he was in it, he ran his fascinated fingers along the grooves where me and Joe had carved our names in the wood we had done it all over the place.

Look at this he said, then I said I'd go and get the comics. Philip was crawling round on his hands and knees examining the cages, then he took out his music book and started making calculations along the margins of the pages with his pencil. I don't know what he was trying to figure out maybe how much space each chick had to itself or something like that. That was Philip, he'd want to know what food they ate for breakfast and how much per day and what temperature was best for them and all this. I left him there and went into the room at the back of the shed to get the comics. When I came back out he was still scribbling and muttering to himself, working out his mathematical calculations with his back to me. All I said was Philip, and when he turned I swung the chain but I didn't connect I missed the side of his face. I hit the flex of the lightbulb and it started swinging to and fro. The chickens flapped and squealed a bit they knew there was something wrong then I took the next swing and it thudded dully against a sack of grain I couldn't get a good look at him with the lightbulb painting these big shadow streaks as it swung. The next thing it swooped right back and I couldn't see a thing I then I lost my temper and swore at him. I think he had dropped his spectacles and was crawling along the ground searching for them. I hit the ground thump thump on the carpet of woodchips. I saw him now he was right in front of me and then I heard: Francie!

Philip was right in front of me with one arm up saying Francie don't do it! Then all of a sudden the lightbulb steadied itself and I heard it again: Francie! It was Joe. He got a grip of me by the wrist and pushed me backwards. Philip was on the ground again but he had no idea of where he was going for he still hadn't found the specs. He just crawled and said please. Joe wrenched the chain from my grasp. It landed with a clatter against the septic tank. He cursed at me now look what you've done look what you had to go and do! I'm sorry Joe I said and I knew that was that. Joe was going to leave me and I'd be left with nobody no ma nothing.

But the thing was – Joe didn't leave me! I hadn't managed to hit Philip so he was just a bit shocked and Joe worked it so he would say he'd fallen off an apple tree and that was how he tore his blazer. But when Joe came back from leaving Philip down the street he swore more at me and said that if I ever did the like of that again they'd put me away for that was what they did with people who did things like that. He said that since the day we met hacking at the ice I was his best friend. He didn't care what his ma or da said about me or my da or the Terrace but if I did things like that it would be all ruined. I was standing with my back against the wall it felt as if I was on a cliff edge. Francie, said Joe, you have to swear that's the end of it. I did. I swore on my life that was the end of it and it would have been too only for Nugent.

After that we rode off out to the river, that was the day we built the hide. We dug a small tunnel in the ground and propped it up with pine branches then covered over the whole thing with leaves and briars and bracken. If you were passing all you saw was bushes and brambles and old leaves thrown around. But we were in there making plans, me and Joe. We built a campfire too. We blackened our faces and painted equals signs under our eyes. We mingled the blood of our forearms and said from this day on Francie Brady and Joe Purcell are blood brothers and will be friends to the end of the world. We'll pray to the Manitou Joe said so we did. You can have a name said Joe an injun name. I was Bird Who Soars. Off I went across the sky and over the slated rooftops, gliding in between the curling scarves of chimney smoke and the bending aerials calling down to Joe far below can you see me Joe I'm up here diving with the wind stroking my eyes as I came in to land beside him but he hadn't moved, sitting there hunched up in a blanket, paring sticks and saying yamma yamma yamma, praying to the Manitou.