and Pa nicked some sugar and a book called ‘A Guide for Growing Girls or How to Win Rare and Lasting Affection from a Man.’ They also took with them a fishing rod and tackle, because they wanted to live on fish. They spent a whole week roaming around, sleeping in haystacks and brickworks. The police scoured the area looking for them and made inquiries everywhere. But then they turned up of their own accord, famished, scruffy and dirty as tinkers. Pa overheard Ma telling this tale and told her off for talking about it to me. He said that this would stop the boy having respect for his elders, but then he laughed himself and said: “Well, that was then. Those were the days.” I wanted him to tell me how he had walked to Africa, and he told me more about it and he kept adding to it, because I couldn’t get enough of his story. And I asked him why he took ‘A Guide for Growing Girls’ with him. What help would the book be among all the wild tribes? And Pa said: “What could I do, my lad, when I didn’t have any other book and the boys would do me down for turning up empty-handed? Anything’s better than nothing.” I liked Pa more after that, because I’d always thought that my father had his head screwed on all the time, but now I realised that it hadn’t always been as screwed on as all that. On the day when the circus was to have its first performance, the whole place was in a tizzwozz, because the circus artists went on a procession through the town and there were horses and elephants and caramels and clowns and giraffes and from everyone there was lots of trumpeting and drumming, so the people of the town came running out of their homes to see what was happening. The procession came past our house and the whole family stood in front of the shop and Ma had Mirabelle in her arms and Mirabelle was clapping her hands and saying in ( 98 )
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