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'A brekast？' Paul looked up at me with mightily furrowed little brows。 I shook my head patiently。
'No。 A bell。'
'〃B is for Bell；〃' Paul said quietly； nodding to himself and staring at the rusting device。 Probably remembering an old nursery…book。 He was a bright child； my father intended to send him off to school properly when the time came； and had already started him learning the alphabet。
'That's right。 Well； this old bell must have fallen off a ship； or perhaps it got washed out here in a flood。 I know what we'll do； I'll go up on the dunes and you hit the bell with your bit of wood and we'll see if I can hear it。 Will we do that？ Would you like that？ It'll be very loud and you might get frightened。' I stooped down to put my face level with his。 He shook his head violently and stuck his nose against mine。 'No！ Won't get frigh' end！' he shouted。 'I'll…'
He was about to skip past me and hit the bomb with the piece of wood…he had already raised it above his head and made the lunge…when I reached out and caught him round the waist。
'Not yet；' I said。 'Wait until I'm farther away。 It's an old bell and it might only have one good noise left in it。 You don't want to waste it； do you？'
Paul wriggled； and the look on his face seemed to indicate that he wouldn't actually mind wasting anything； just so long as he got to hit the bell with his plank of wood。 'Aw…right；' he said； and stopped struggling。 I put him down。 'But can I hit it really really hard？'
'As hard as you possibly can； when I wave from the top of the dune over there。 All right？'
'Can I prakiss？'
'Practise by hitting the sand。'
'Can I hit the puddles？'
'Yes； practise hitting the pools of water。 That's a good idea。'
'Can I hit this puddle？' He pointed with the wood at the circular sand…pool around the bomb。 I shook my head。
'No； that might make the bell angry。'
He frowned。 'Do bells get an'ry？'
'Yes； they do。 I'm going now。 You hit the bell really hard and I'll listen really hard； right？'
'Yes； Frank。'
'You won't hit the bell until I wave； will you？'
He shook his head。 'Pomiss。'
'Good。 Won't be long。' I turned and started to head for the dunes at a slow run。 My back felt funny。 I looked round as I went； checking there was nobody about。 There were only a few gulls； though； wheeling in a sky shot with ragged clouds。
Over my shoulder when I looked back； I saw Paul。 He was still by the bomb； whacking the sand with his plank； using both hands to hold it and bringing it down with all his strength； jumping up in the air at the same time and yelling。 I ran faster； over the rocks on to the firm sand； over the driftline and on up to the golden sand； slower and dry； then up to the grass on the nearest dune。 I scrambled to the top and looked out over the sand and rocks to where Paul stood； a tiny figure against the reflected brightness of the pools and wet sands； overshadowed by the tilted cone of metal beside him。 I stood up； waited until he noticed me； took one last look round； then waved my hands high over my head and threw myself flat。
While I was lying there； waiting； I realised that I hadn't told Paul where to hit the bomb。 Nothing happened。 I lay there feeling my stomach sinking slowly into the sand on the top of the dune。 I sighed to myself and looked up。
Paul was a distant puppet； jerking and leaping and throwing back his arms and whacking the bomb repeatedly on the side。 I could just hear his lusty yells over the whisper of the grass in the wind。 'Shit；' I said to myself； and put my hand under my chin just as Paul； after a quick glance in my direction； started to attack the nose of the bomb。 He had hit it once and I had taken my hand out from under my chin preparatory to ducking when Paul； the bomb and its little halo…pool and everything else for about ten metres around suddenly vanished inside a climbing column of sand and steam and flying rock； lit just the once from inside； in that blindingly brief first moment； by the high explosive detonating。
The rising tower of debris blossomed and drifted； starting to fall as the shockwave pulsed at me from the dune。 I was vaguely aware of a lot of small sandslips along the drying faces of the nearby dunes。 The noise rolled over then； a twisting crack and belly…rumble of thunder。 I watched a gradually widening circle of splashes go out from the centre of the explosion as the debris came back to earth。 The pillar of gas and sand was pulled out by the wind； darkening the sand under its shadow and forming a curtain of haze under its base like you see under a heavy cloud sometimes as it starts to get rid of its rain。 I could see the crater now。
I ran down。 I stood about fifty metres away from the still steaming crater。 I didn't look too closely at any of the bits and pieces lying around； squinting at them from the side of my eye； wanting and not wanting to see bloody meat or tattered clothing。 The noise rumbled back uncertainly from the hills beyond the town。 The edge of the crater was marked with huge splinters of stone torn up from the bedrock under the sands； they stood like broken teeth around the scene； pointing at the sky or fallen slanted over。 I watched the distant cloud from the explosion drift away over the firth； dispersing； then I turned and ran as fast as I could for the house。
So nowadays I can say it was a German bomb of five hundred kilograms and it was dropped by a crippled He。 III trying to get back to its Norwegian base after an unsuccessful attack on the flying…boat base farther down the firth。 I like to think it was the gun in my bunker that hit it and forced the pilot to turn tail and dump his bombs。
The tips of some of those great splinters of igneous rock still stick above the surface of the long…returned sand； and they form the Bomb Circle； poor dead Paul's most fitting monument： a blasphemous stone circle where the shadows play。
I was lucky； again。 Nobody saw anything； and nobody could believe that I had done it。 I was distracted with grief this time； torn by guilt； and Eric had to look after me while I acted my part to perfection； though I say it myself。 I didn't enjoy deceiving Eric； but I knew it was necessary； I couldn't tell him I'd done it because he wouldn't have understood why I'd done it。 He would have been horrified； and very likely never have been my friend again。 So I had to act the tortured； self…blaming child； and Eric had to fort me while my father brooded。
Actually； I didn't like the way Diggs questioned me about what had happened； and for a few moments I thought he might have guessed； but my replies seemed to satisfy him。 It didn't help that I had to call my father 'uncle' and Eric and Paul 'cousins'； this was my father's idea of trying to fool the policeman about my parentage in case Diggs did any asking around and discovered that I didn't exist officially。 My story was that I was the orphaned son of my father's long…lost younger brother； and only staying on occasional extended holidays on the island while I was passed from relative to relative and my future was decided。
Anyway； I got through this tricky interval； and even the sea co…operated for once； ing in just after the explosion and sweeping away any tell…tale tracks I might have left an hour or more before Diggs arrived from the village to inspect the scene。
Mrs Clamp was at the house when I got back； unloading the huge wicker hopper on the front of her ancient bike which lay propped against the kitchen table。 She was busy stuffing our cupboards； the fridge and the freezer with the food and supplies she had brought from the town。
'Good morning； Mrs Clamp；' I said pleasantly as I entered the kitchen。 She turned to look at me。 Mrs Clamp is very old and extremely small。 She looked me up and down and said； 'Oh； it's you； is it？' and turned back to the wicker hopper on the bike； delving into its depths with both hands； surfacing with long packages wrapped in newspaper。 She staggered over to the freezer； climbed on to a small stool by its side； unwrapped the packages to reveal frozen packs of my beefburgers； and placed them in the freezer； leaning over it until she was almost inside。 It struck me how easy it would be to… I shook my head clear of the silly thought。 I sat down at the kitchen table to watch Mrs Clamp work。
'How are you keeping these days； Mrs Clamp？' I asked。
'Oh； I'm well enough；' Mrs Clamp said； shaking her head and ing down off the stool； picking up some more frozen burgers and going back to the freezer。 I wondered if she might ever get frostbite； I was sure I could see little crystals of ice glinting on her faint moustache。
'My； that's a big load you've brought for us today。 I'm surprised you didn't fall over on the way here。'
'You won't catch me falling over； no。' Mrs Clamp shook her head once more； went to the sink； reached up and over while on her tip…toes； turned on the hot water； rinsed her hands； wiped them on her blue…check； bri…nylon work…coa