The Sting. Kimberley Chambers

in our world. That’s what we’re told when they kill ’em off.’

      Tommy suddenly felt sick. ‘What?’

      ‘A farm in Essex means your dog was taken to the vet and put down. I know ’cause the same thing happened to my Spike.’

      A lone tear rolled down Tommy’s cheek. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

      Tommy spent the rest of his birthday with his head under the blankets. He couldn’t get Rex’s trusting face out of his head. He’d loved his smell, his big slobbery kisses, and throwing sticks for him in the park. They’d been mates, best mates, and now he would never see Rex again. He was gone, like everyone else Tommy cared about.

      ‘You OK, Tommy?’ Ray tapped on the door. ‘I brought you a sandwich and a drink.’

      ‘I don’t want anything, thanks. But I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow,’ Tommy lied. He’d had to get out of meeting the other lads and having dinner tonight. Could not face food or company, so had feigned illness.

      ‘OK, lad. Give Connie or me a shout if you need anything.’

      When Ray’s footsteps drifted away, Tommy propped his pillow up against the wall and punched it repeatedly.

      He was no longer that innocent young boy he’d been before his mother died. He was now a streetwise, angry young man.

       PART TWO

      The course of true love never did run smooth.

       William Shakespeare