‘Who’s Arthur?’
‘Dunno, but whoever he was he must have had a massive backside.’
Could be funny could Stevie.
‘Be great for sledging,’ I said.
‘Aye, the snow will be here soon enough.’
Spotted a pile of stones. Decided to take one. A wee souvenir, as me dad would say. Then we looked at the view. That was it. Not much else to do when you climb a hill, no shops, no football pitches, no cinemas, just view.
We went slowly back down, a stitch prodding me like I’d forgotten something. After loads of slips we came to a snowsports centre. It should have been called a carpet centre. Skiers were flying down the carpet on their skis.
‘Can I have a shot?’
‘I am not having you breaking your leg, not on my watch.’
Stevie could be quite strict, like some of me mates’ dads. Considering he’d never really been a dad before he seemed to know what dads should do. I think he’d make a canny one if he put his mind to it.
After watching the skiers we went into a café. Never been to so many cafés in me life. Stevie bought me a can of pop and he had a coffee. We sat outside on a wooden bit sheltered from the wind. Then Stevie said something. Something I never expected him to say.
‘I know it might sound strange, Danny, but part of me is glad you came. I sometimes wondered what you were like.’
‘Honest?’
‘Honest. Not often, but sometimes.’ He paused. ‘I never thought about your mam, but I sometimes thought about you.’
His words were the equivalent of a hug.
‘So did you know anything about me?’
‘Not much, but I knew your name.’
‘How?’
‘My sister told me. Not the name I’d have picked.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘Nothing. But if I had a son now I’d give him a good old Scottish name, like Frasier, or Malcolm, or Callum.’
Stevie could tell something was up. Me face told him.
‘Y’okay, Danny?’
‘Na, you said “Callum”. That’s what he’s called, Callum Jeffries.’
Think Stevie realised he’d messed up. Now it was evens. I’d said ‘Dad’. He’d said ‘Callum’.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s be heading back, I think it’s going to rain.’
‘Must be dead easy being a weatherman in Scotland,’ I said. ‘The weather forecast for the rest of the year – rain, goodnight.’
Stevie smiled. Then we ran to the car.
Had some good thoughts on the way back. Thought about what Stevie had said about him thinking about me. It made me feel good inside, like when me mind gets occupied by Amy.
About five o’clock when we got back. I took me phone outside to call me mam.
Worried as usual as the rings went.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi, Mam. Y’alreet?’
‘Yes, I’m alreet,’ she said, pointing out me Geordie.
‘How’s your back?’
‘It’s okay, Danny.’
Glad she was okay. Glad she wasn’t mortal again. Glad she was still alive.
‘Why were you drinking?’
‘It’s none of your business,’ she snapped.
‘What do you mean, none of me business?’ I snapped back. ‘You’re me mam, aren’t you?’
Silence.
‘What did you do today?’ she asked, but in the sort of voice a robot would have.
‘You keep changing the subject, Mam. It doesn’t matter what I did today. What matters is that he keeps on hitting you.’
Longer silence.
‘I went for a walk by a lake, if you must know.’
‘Is that it?’
‘Then went for a walk up a wee hill.’
Wazzocks.
‘Did you say “wee”, Danny?’
Double wazzocks. Couldn’t lie. She’d heard it.
‘That’s Scottish. Since when did you start talking Scottish?’
Come on brain, you useless lump.
‘Erm, there’s a Scots lad in our class. Must have got it off him.’
‘Who’s that, then?’
Triple wazzocks.
‘He’s new. Can’t remember his name.’
Stupid words. Just keep dropping me in it.
‘So what are you doing tomorrow?’ she said.
Quadruple wazzocks.
Why did I tell me mam I’d call her every night? Each time I ring her something goes wrong.
‘Not sure.’
Silence.
‘Is that all Mr Chatterbox has got to say?’
‘Aye.’
‘Well, goodnight, Danny, sleep well.’
‘Aye, you too.’
Mam hung up.
It was the first time that week she hadn’t said, ‘Love you’. I was doing this for her, and all she could do was pick on me words. There was a stack of dustbins by the front door. I kicked them over. Then I picked up a dustbin lid and threw it. It hit a car in the street, and set the alarm off.
Ran back in the house, slammed the door and raced up the stairs to Stevie’s flat. Slammed that door too.
Puff, puff, puff.
Stevie was sitting with a cup of tea.
‘Y’okay?’
He’d seen me hot face, me breath coming out fast.
‘Aye, just perfect.’
I was now officially the world’s biggest liar.
Thirty-One
• •
‘Last day today, Danny,’ said Stevie. ‘Let’s make it a good one, eh?’
He took me go-karting. The track was miles out of Edinburgh. Guess Stevie was still scared about Uncle Connor and being seen with me. Wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer.
There weren’t many people at the go-kart track, less people to crash into. Stevie was good at the go-karts. I wasn’t. Didn’t like going fast. Reminded me of FB, pressing his fat foot to the floor.
‘Enjoy that?’ said Stevie, when we’d parked our karts.
‘Not bad.’
Took me smelly helmet off and put it on a table.
‘You’ve got to learn to accelerate out of the corners.’
‘Whatever.’
Think he could tell I was still hacked off. Next week he was going back to sandwiches. I was going back to a school with a bully who’s messing with me girlfriend, and a house where me mam gets hit by the bloke she’s going to marry. If it wasn’t for Amy wouldn’t be much point in going back at all.
We got in his Mini. But he didn’t start it. Went dead quiet for a bit, like in an exam.
‘Danny…’
‘What?’
‘… when you’re older, maybe you can come back up and see me.’
‘How much older?’
Stevie squirmed in his seat. ‘Don’t know, maybe eighteen.’
‘Why eighteen?’
‘It’ll work out better, then.’
‘Why?’
‘It just will.’
‘But that’s over three years away.’
‘It’s not that long.’
‘It’s over three years.’
Stevie leaned over the steering wheel and said the rest in whispers. ‘Danny, I can’t let you stay here, and I can’t go back to Gateshead. That’s the way it is. You’re just going to have to wait.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘No, it’s not fair enough,’ he said. ‘I’d love to do something to help you, I really would. But I can’t, not the thing you want. I mean, imagine you were me. What would you do?’
‘Kill him.’
Stevie shot out a quick laugh.
‘You’ve got no job, no responsibilities, no idea what the repercussions could be. The answer’s no.’
Knew that. No need to keep saying it.
‘Can we go now?’
But before we left he leaned across again and grabbed me hand.
‘There’s something else I’d like you to know.’
No idea
what was coming next, and from the look on his face neither did he.
‘I’ve not given you much thought all these years,’ he said, ‘but after this week, I’ll not be able to stop thinking about you.’
He looked at me as he smiled.
His eyes were brown. The same as mine.
Thirty-Two
•
I was dead careful on the phone to me mam that night. Didn’t do a ‘wee’ or anything. Got me reward.
‘Love you, Danny.’
‘Love you too, Mam.’
Me mam wasn’t mortal drunk, and didn’t sound terrified. She sounded normal. I was happy. But the happy didn’t last, because one second later she dropped her nuclear bomb.
‘We’ll pick you up from school the morrow.’
Me tongue was in knots.
‘N-n-no, it’s okay, Mam. I’ll make me own way back.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘It’s only down the road. We’ll pick you up.’
‘But…’
‘No buts, Danny, we didn’t get to see you go, at least we can be there when you arrive. See you at one.’
She hung up.
Oh, man.
Sat on the stairs outside Stevie’s flat and had a long think. But like most of me thinks it didn’t turn into anything useful.
Trudged back inside.
‘Is your mam okay?’ said Stevie, when he spotted me sulky face.
‘Aye, seems to be.’
Told Stevie about me other problem.
‘That’s an easy one to fix,’ he said. ‘You just get yourself an early train. Arrive before the coach, go and hide somewhere in the school, and when the coach drops everyone off, just join the crowds.’
Me face lit up like a bonfire.
‘Belter.’
I gave Stevie a hug. He squeezed me back.
He grabbed his coat, went out and got us pie and chips. Didn’t get into a scrap this time.
‘Won’t your mam find out you’ve not been on your trip?’ said Stevie, dropping a long, gangly chip in his gob.
‘Not if I’m smart.’
‘Sneaky must be your middle name.’
That was me all right. Danny Sneaky Croft.
After a bit Stevie stopped eating chips and shuffled over. He put an arm around me. It should have felt weird, but it didn’t. It felt good.
‘This week’s been a test for us, that’s for sure,’ he said. ‘Do you think we passed?’
‘Aye, I think we passed.’
Turned to him. ‘Will you write to me?’
Stevie heaved out pie breath. ‘Can’t, you know that.’
‘I could email you, then delete it.’
‘No.’
Thought I’d better change the subject.
‘Have you heard from Megan?’
‘Aye, we’re going to meet up on Saturday night.’
‘Good.’
‘More like brilliant.’
Finally, he moved towards me. I thought he was going to hug me again. But what he did was even better. He said two words.
‘Night, son.’
Thirty-Three
•
Didn’t sleep much that night, me brain going haywire, as if maths, English and French were all attacking it at once.
It had taken every bit of sneakiness I had to find me dad, but now I’d found him I wouldn’t get to see him again for years. It didn’t seem fair, like getting a birthday present, then having it swiped off you for no reason. But at least I’d tracked him down. Felt like a blank space in me life had been filled in. I was like the other kids in class. Had a mam and a dad. Proud of meself for doing that.
Proud of meself for something else as well. In the night I’d come up with a way to deal with the Lanky Dave problem. In the morning I asked Stevie if he had a picture of his Uncle Connor.
‘What do you want a picture of him for?’
‘Just do.’
Stevie went in his room and came back with an old photo.
‘It’s not very recent.’
It showed Uncle Connor in his shorts, muscles bulging.
‘Perfect,’ I said, and put it in me bag.
‘And I’ve got a wee present for you.’
Stevie went in the kitchen, came back with the ball, and threw it to me.
‘Cheers.’
‘Time to go, Geordie lad.’
I stuffed the ball in me sports bag, grabbed me coat, and went down the stairs for the last time. We got in Stevie’s Mini and headed off. It was raining again, the wipers swish swoshing across the windscreen. Apart from that and the engine we had silence. Wished he’d turn the radio on. Silence can be horrible, even worse than noise.
We were halfway round a roundabout when Stevie finally asked a question. ‘Are you glad you came, Danny?’
Not a hard question, but hard enough.
‘Sort of.’
Glad to have found me dad, but not glad about what had happened with Megan, and the thing that didn’t happen.
‘Are you glad I came?’
‘Sort of,’ he said. Then a little smile cracked his face. ‘Yeah, I’m glad you came.’
The silence returned. The way it does.
That’s the last thing either of us said, all the way to the station. Me gran would have been ashamed of me. But now the silence seemed right. Think we’d said everything that needed to be said.
He stopped in a car park and I got me bag out of the boot.
‘Walk you to the train?’ Nodded. ‘Have you got your ticket?’ Nodded again. I knew about singles and returns now. Not that I’d be coming back here, not for years.
We went into the station and Stevie checked the departure board.
‘There’s a train to Newcastle in ten minutes. Plenty of time to get you back before your coach.’
We walked slowly to the platform, like we didn’t want to get there. The train was already in. Then I saw something I wish I hadn’t, a young lass and an older bloke. Except these two weren’t rowing or fighting, they were holding each other tight, like me and Amy when no one’s around. It set me off again, like the picture at Aunty Tina’s.
Stevie put his skinny arms around me again. But that only made it worse.
‘Come on, Danny, everything will be okay.’
‘No, it won’t,’ I sniffed. ‘You’ve no idea what it’s like. He’ll keep hitting her, then he’ll kill her, like they said on the website. Then I’ll be on me own.’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ he said, his stern voice on. ‘If he does something again, call the police, just call them.’
‘Two mams get murdered every week. Where were the police then?’
Stevie took his arms back and shook his head. I looked up at him. ‘Please help me, Dad.’
‘Oh, heavens above.’
He bent down so our eyes were on the same level, and took hold of me hands. I could tell other people were looking, wondering what was going on, but for once I couldn’t care less.
‘Danny, you came up all this way on your own. You’re a strong laddie, a clever laddie, now you’ve got to be a brave laddie. Please, I’m asking you, be strong, Danny, for yourself, for your mam.’
‘It’s not just about me mam, it’s about you.’
He pulled me head into his chest. And the tears came again.
‘The train for London Kings Cross will shortly be leaving from Platform Seven,’ said a voice from somewhere.
Stevie squeezed me hard. But it was different to the squeezes that me gran and Aunty Tina gave me. It was a draw between feeling happy and sad. I didn’t want it to ever stop. I wanted to stay squeezed for ever. Couldn’t. The train was going to leave.
Stevie let go. I wiped me tears on me coat. Stevie wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He took a fiver from his wallet and stuffed it in me pocket. I hate it when FB does that. Didn’t hate me dad doing it.
‘Be strong, wee fella.’
Never felt weaker.
Needed to go.
‘Bye, Dad.’
I picked up me bag and got on the train. It was packed. Didn’t want to see me dad on the platform, looking sad, so I just sat down on the floor by the toilets, like I’d done last Sunday. The door closed. Then I heard a whistle. The train started moving, slowly, slowly, then faster and faster and faster. The sky flew past. Edinburgh was gone.
Thirty-Four
• •
The train tanked along, clouds whizzing by like fluffy racehorses.
It stopped at Dunbar, a place I’d never heard of, then it started again, and then, for no reason at all, it slowed right down and stopped. Got up and looked out of the window. We weren’t at a station, we weren’t at a town, we were next to a field. Don’t catch many trains, but even I know they don’t pick people up from fields.
A Scotsman’s voice came on.
‘Sorry for the delay, ladies and gentlemen, but we have a faulty train ahead of us. I’ll report back when I have further details.’
Looked at me watch. It was 10.22 a.m., still bags of time to get back before the coach. Sat down again, wondering how Amy was. I wanted to call her, but I’d forgotten to charge me phone. I hoped she wasn’t getting any grief from Lanky Dave. Even if he was annoying her, I had a plan to deal with him now. One that would make him stay away for ever.
The wait went on and on. Looked at me watch. 10.51 a.m. It was like sitting on the wall watching me dad’s front door. I stood up and looked out of the window again. Cows were bending down, eating. Watching them made me feel hungry. I should have bought a chocolate bar or something. Not like I didn’t have enough money. I saw people walking past with bags of food. Thought about getting some, but changed me mind. I didn’t want to lose me spot, or have someone nick me bag, and me football.
Wondered where we were. When we flew to Spain they had a map with a little plane on it to show you how far you’d gone. Trains should do that. All I knew was that this train wasn’t going anywhere. I started having bad thoughts. What if the coach got back to school before me? Mam would find out I wasn’t on it. She’d think I’d run away and call the police. Wouldn’t that be just typical? Mam wouldn’t do it for her, but she’d do it for me.
The Scots bloke came on again.
‘We’re sorry for the delay, ladies and gentlemen—’ Just tell us why we’re not moving. I didn’t buy a ticket to look at cows – ‘The train in front has suffered a malfunction…’
Me Mam. Me Dad. Me Page 12
