First in Culverton and first in the region. It was Mary’s moment of triumph, handing over her winnings to Mum, hearing Uncle Charley tell Mum how good she was with the birds, what a keen eye for form she had. She took advantage of it soon enough. “Those young birds,” she said next Friday. “They want training. I could take them out tomorrow. Give them a toss.” Mum hesitated; Mary knew she was thinking of a list of chores. Then, “Take Lennie, will you?” she said. “He does get under my feet so.” Mary packed up some bread and jam and got Lennie washed and dressed and out of the house early on Saturday morning. She kept him out all day and brought him back, tired and contented and chattering about pigeons, at tea-time. Mum was singing when they came in: a sure sign that she had had a good day. Doreen was upstairs, asleep. “I could take him out again, next Saturday, if you like,” Mary offered. “All right,” said Mum. On Monday Arnold Revell passed Mary in the school corridor and muttered, “Done that bike.”
