But they soon tired of Deet, or he tired of them, and they packed their bags and then a few weeks later there was somebody else to call Mother. It had been Deet for years now, Deet and a whole succession of different ladies whom he was expected to call Mother for a while. It was so long ago now anyway, longer back than he could remember. His owner had got drunk and had bet him on the turn of a card – and the card had turned up wrong.īut how had he belonged to the rich person? The rich person couldn’t have been his father, for no father would bet his own child on the turn of a card. Tarrin himself had belonged to a rich person once, but Deet had won him in a card game. Maybe they had stolen it all once, and then had bought suits and got respectable. Most children belonged to rich people – the way most things belonged to rich people, which was why, no doubt, they were called rich. What he wanted was to meet another child, one to talk to, one to play with, but he hadn’t seen anyone his age for weeks now.

Tarrin didn’t really want to make any money. Let’s make that old hay while the sun is shining. So let’s go make some money, while we can. One day, you’ll even end up as old as me. only it won’t last, not even for you, and that’s the thing to remember, and to make the most of it while it’s here. It’s the real thing that I’m talking about, kid, and you’ve got it. I know plenty of people look young, but that’s just fake, like a suntan from a bottle. They’re hanging on by their fingernails, their toenails and anything else they can cling on with.

People aren’t being born like they used to be, and the ones that are here aren’t dying. And you know why? – Because it’s in short supply. Youth’s the only stuff that matters these days. ‘I tell you, kid,’ Deet said, ‘one day you’ll grow up and then you won’t be worth anything.

The hunted by alex shearer