people enjoy themselves,
having fe* ****** to their fri^ds, ^
*, And what w.ll the New Year hr.ng ye, man?'
-Hello there, Sugar! Come on and join us!' Someone t0oL
him by the arm, and he jumped. He still hated it when peop?
touched him suddenly.
'No. No. Thank you hut no.'
J
-------J
'Thank you. No. No.'
hers came round him. Ts it Jackie
Jackie man. It's New Year, it's
,e a wee drink for New Year.'
friends. People you know.'
'Thank you! Thank you!'
In the end they let him go. He walked away down th
street, but some more people recognized him, and a gir]
up to him. She put her arms around him, holding him tightly.
She said something very kind, but he broke away from her
angrily. She laughed, and ran away to the others.
e
ran
What had she done to it? He cried
in
Polish. Under the next streetlight he opened his coat. The
pigeon was still, its eyes closed. But as he whispered to it, its
eyes opened slowly. Then they closed again.
He began to walk up the road to the hill above the village.
It was peaceful and quiet. Then a car came down the hill,
catching him in its lights. My God, a police car! And they
had seen him. The car slowed, then stopped. His heart began
to beat violently.
A voice shouted, 'Hello, Sugar! Is this where your New
Year's party is?' And then a laugh.
His heart became calm again. Of course, it was Britain.