Author: Morris Gleitzman
Illustrator: Nigel Buchanan
Publisher: Macmillan, $12.95
Age group: 8-10 years
Colin dragged himself to his feet.
'Luke'd get their quicker,' he muttered, 'he's got turbo thrusters and I've only got lace-ups.'
But Mum and Dad's eyes were already glued back on the TV screen.
'... in these difficult times,' the Queen was saying, 'we
have to work and struggle for privilege and good fortune.'
'Bull,' said Colin loudly as he slouched out to the kitchen, 'some people are born with it.'
Mum and Dad stared at the Queen.
Colin stared at Luke.
As Colin wedged a chicken bone under the screen door to stop it flapping again, he heard the music playing at the end of the Queen's Christmas Message. then he heard footsteps behind him. He straightened up. It was Mum and Dad.
Mum gave a little cough to clear her throat.
'Love,' she said, 'about the microscope...'
'Next time, eh? said Dad.
They looked at Colin.
Colin looked at them.
He could hear Luke in the lounge, shooting enemy planes out of the sky with a faint roar.
'We just couldn't stretch to one this time,' said Mum, 'not with you needing a new pair of good shoes and all. But don't forget, it's your birthday in less than five months.'
And it's Luke birthday in less than two months, thought Colin bitterly. Wonder what he'll get? A working model of the Garden Island Naval Depot with matching aircraft carriers? A trip round the world? A car?
'They're pretty snazzy shoes,' Dad was saying. 'Bloke could end up Prime Minister in shoes like those.'
'I've got shoes.' Colin pointed down to his brown elastic-sides boots. OK, they were a bit scuffed from when he'd borrowed Doug Beale's trail-bike and the brakes had failed and he'd had to use his feet to stop, but they'd rub up with a bit of spit and chicken fat.
Dad sighed.
'Wish we could all wear boots,' he said, 'but if you want people to take notice of you in this world, you've got to dress proper and wear decent shoes. Look at me with the Wheat Board. Luke was born on the Sunday, I got the shoes on the Monday, landed the job on the Tuesday arvo.'
Dad grinned and gave Colin a pretend punch in the guts. Colin tried to smile but his face felt like uncooked Chrissie pud.
Mum looked at him closely, concerned.
'Love, is there anything else?'
Colin was still trying to work out how to explain without sounding like the one thing Dad hated (a whinger) when they heard the thump from the lounge.
They hurried in.
Luke lay on the floor, eyes closed, very pale, very still.
