Palace of Wolves

Chapter 14 -- Queens Park and the Silly Hat

The rest of that week passed both slowly and quickly. The time seemed to fly yet by the Friday I already felt like part of the group and fitted right into St. Judes's. On the final lunchtime of the week I was nibbling on my cheese sandwich; it tasted as if my mum had spread the butter with the same knife she'd used for the marmite toast so I had half a mind to chuck it. As I stood up to head for the bin Dora and Lana ran over. They looked exited so I decided to wait for what they had to say.

"I bloody love this school!" exclaimed Dora.

"Really?" I replied, "But I just went though a week of your 'tourguiding' and you didn't shut up about how much you hated this place."

"That was before Harrison agreed to our suggestion."

"Which one is this?" Mia sighed,

"The one where we said it would raise the schools morale if we changed the house names."

I agreed on this point, Unit's A through D where possibly the most unoriginal house names and made the place feel more like an army base or prison.

"Do we get to choose?" I asked.

"Nope," replied Lana, her grin was a bit too wide, "Harrison went for our suggestions, he said he didn't understand them but they seemed inoffensive."

"What are they?" asked Mia, she looked down at the paper in Dora's hand, "oh god, you actually did it. You got our school to rename the houses after the ones in Harry Potter."

The two girls grinned and nodded simultaneously.

"We're so making house badges for everyone!" announced Dora, "Your all coming round to my house tomorrow to help make them."

There was groaning, I suddenly remembered my plans.

"I can't. I'm going someplace with Patrick."

"Ooh! Is this a date?"

"None of your concern Dora."

*+*+*

On Saturday I had found my way to Colkirk, a tiny district to the north of Barrglen. Honestly, there was nothing there apart from houses, three shops a church and, in someplace or another, a train station. I decided to try and cut through the churchyard to try and find the station. It was a large, majestic kind of building with a tall spire and large wooden door -the kind that curved to a point at the top- as kirk meant church I assumed it was the kirk part of Colkirk. As I walked around the gravel path I noticed some smashed bottles and even some spray paint on a gravestone, could the people here get any more disrespectful! I thought I saw more graffiti on another grave but on a second look it turned out to be a bouquet of fresh flowers. I decided to read the grave:

"Isaac MacIain

Beloved Son, Twin and Friend

You might be the lucky one"

I thought the last line was a bit morbid but I looked further, the boy would have been a few months older than me but he died twelve years ago. Twelve years, that number again. As I bent down to see if there was a note in the flowers I noticed a mark in the bottom corner, it looked unprofessional, almost as if someone has hand chiselled it into the stone. I looked the silver badge pinned to my shirt, it matched the mark on Issac's grave.

It was at that point I noticed someone was watching me. I smelt cigarette smoke and I could almost feel the set of eyes bearing into my skull. When I turned round I thought I saw Patrick but was soon mistaken, this persons hair was blacker and longer and instead of freckles and spots he has the slight whispers of a beard. Besides, Patrick wouldn't smoke, would he? I had a fleeting memory of Adrain and his lighter which may have saved my life.