It was to show Jane the bones and bird eggs and chalk fossils that Benny asked his mother if he could show Jane them in his bedroom. His mother said, yes of course, looking at Jane, who stood behind Benny at the back-door of the cottage. Jane smiled shyly. You are the parson's daughter aren't you? his mother asked. Yes, Jane said quietly, I know Benny from school. Benny's mother smiled and said, go up then, don't let Benny bore you with the bones and bird eggs and chalk stuff. Jane followed Benny up the narrow stairs to his bedroom on the right which was small and compact. Benny closed the door behind them. Jane looked around the room. There was a plastic model of a Spitfire hanging from the ceiling, a couple of posters of cars with details of various parts number along the side, a few books and a glass tank on a chest-of-drawers full of bones and bird eggs and chalk fossils laid out. Benny stood by the tank and Jane stood next to him. He had brought Lizbeth up here some months back. She had been breathing on his neck as she showed her his collection, putting her hand on his back, sitting on his bed. He'd not told Jane about that. He hadn't wanted her to think Lizbeth had been here and maybe something had happened because it hadn't. Do you know what bird's egg this is? He asked, holding up an egg for her to see. Wren's egg, she said, so small. Her fingers touched the egg gently, touching his fingers as she did so. Where did you find it? She asked. This was in a nest, he said, someone must have raided it because this was all that was left. They do that, she said. Who? He asked. Boys raid them either for fun or to gather eggs and blow out the contents, she said. She sensed his fingers near hers. He showed her some bones which he thought were rabbit bones or maybe some other creature. He turned it around in his hand. She touched the bones, touched his palm. She saw other items from his glass tank he had showed her. They then walked to the window and looked out. It was a wonderful view of the countryside. He showed her where his father had allowed him a small plot of land to grow stuff, but he hadn't grown anything as yet. He sensed her beside him. Felt her elbow touch his. He turned to face her and they gazed at each other. She hesitantly kissed him on the lips. The lips stayed together, wet, warm. They parted. Her hand touched his, held it. I wouldn't, he said, not with her, not Lizbeth. He gazed at Jane. She wants you, Jane said, she told me as such in the girls' toilets the other week. I wouldn't, he said. She thinks you will, Jane said anxiously. She tries it on and I avoid her doing so, he said. If Lizbeth was here now she would. Try it on. Get him onto the bed behind them. Jane kissed him again and held him close to her. He closed his eyes. It was a warm kiss. Lips together. He opened his and held her close to him, his hands around her narrow waist. She held him tightly. Please don't with her, Jane muttered. I won't, he said. He hadn't. He knew he wouldn't, but Lizbeth's image came in front of him and her eyes dug deep into him. Jane slim and dark haired and with dark eyes was so different from red haired and freckled Lizbeth with her small breasts and staring eyes. They held hands and walked to his bed and sat down. Small room, she said. Yes, my brother and I share this room, he said. Lizbeth had sat on his bed when she came and when he came up from downstairs to ask what sandwich she would like she was sitting there smiling at him. He could see she had been lying on his bed. Would you like a drink and sandwich? He asked Jane. Would your mother mind? No at all, he said, I'll go ask. He went downstairs. She sat on his bed and looked at her small hands. She wondered what her mother would think if she knew she was in Benny's room and sitting on his bed. She trusts me, Jane mused, she wouldn't think I would do anything. But she'd say nothing about the room or sitting on the bed. If Lizbeth was here she would, Jane thought. She has no moral qualms. She had said as such. Jane had slapped her that time after her taunts in the girls' toilets. Benny came back up. Mum said she'll do us sandwiches, Benny said, we need to go down for them though. Ok, Jane said. She got off the bed and stood beside him. She doesn't mind me being up here? Jane said. No, why should she? Benny said, just showing you my collection. Jane smiled. Don't mention me coming into your bedroom to my mum though, Jane said. He gazed at her. Of course not, he said. They looked at each other. She kissed him again and held him close to her. He sensed her small breasts on his chest. Her hands about him. If this was Lizbeth she would be trying to push him on the bed behind them. Jane didn't. They held onto each other. He smelt her mild perfume. They parted. Looked at each other. Then they walked down the stairs, he following her down, studying her long black hair, the narrowness of her. Benny didn't bore you with his collection, then? His mother said smiling. No, it was interesting, Jane said, he has a wren's egg, not seen one so close up. His mother nodded and brought them sandwiches and tea and they all sat down to eat. Benny's siblings were playing on the farm with the farmer's children. The small white radio was playing music in the background. Benny's mother talked of beautiful it was there and the surrounding countryside. Benny looked at Jane, and apart from Lizbeth being therefore her, had nothing else to hide.