Chapter 9 When they shared out the next ration of turnip, Tom held his piece in his mouth as long as he could, but most of the moisture had already evaporated from the tin and within a few minutes it felt as rough and dry as pumice. It was all he could do to chew and swallow it. He took a handful of the boy’s hair in his left hand, holding his head still against the boards, then plunged the knife into his neck. He jerked the blade sideways, severing an artery and slicing into the windpipe, then dropped the knife and held the metal bowl against Richard’s neck.