All the Things That Could Go Wrong

by Stewart Foster

  Visiting Rules:

  No smoking.

  No telephones.

  No sharp objects.

  All bags will be checked.

  You may be body-searched.

  Beside it there’s a poster with a picture of a boy and a police officer with the headline Crime doesn’t pay.

  A door swings open and startles me. A boy is walking between two men in blue uniforms like they’re going to show him round the maze. He looks the same age as Ben and when he catches my eye I wonder if it might be Five X and he’s recognized me from the photo Ben took with him, of me and him on the go-karts. I smile but he just stares at me as he walks by.

  I go and stand next to my mum.

  ‘Yes, madam,’ says one of the men. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘Ummm, we’re here to see …’ My mum’s voice sounds as shaky as I feel. ‘Ben … Ben Curtis.’

  The man glances up at a clock.

  ‘Yes, they should be bringing him down now. Just take a seat for a moment and someone will be with you.’

  I follow my mum across the reception area and we sit down on seats that look like dice by the window.

  ‘Okay?’ she whispers.

  ‘Yeah …’ I look up at the ceiling. ‘… It’s huge!’

  ‘It is.’ My mum tries to smile.

  We haven’t waited long before a door swings open and another man walks over and stops in front of us. I look at his nametag – Mike Ashton. Pastoral Care Officer. He points to the doors.

  ‘It’s just this way,’ he says.

  We reach another set of doors and he holds a card against a box on the wall and looks up at a camera. It’s like we’re in a film and about to rob a bank. The doors swing open and me and my mum follow him into a corridor where another man is sitting behind a desk – Andrew MacManus. Security Officer. I don’t know whether he’s here to keep people out or keep them in. He asks my mum to empty her bag. She puts her car keys, her purse, her phone and a pack of tissues on the desk. Now I know why she was emptying her bag in the kitchen before we left.

  ‘Okay, we’ll let you have the keys and your phone when you come back out.’ Andrew MacManus then turns to me. ‘… And what about you, young man?’

  I slide my bag off my shoulder. Andrew MacManus opens it up, pulls out the All-Star Batman and Blue Beetle comics, the computer games and two packets of Rolos.

  He flicks through the comics and rubs his hand over each page like he’s flattening them out. I don’t know what he thinks I could be hiding in a comic. ‘Okay,’ he says, handing them back. ‘They’re fine, but these can’t go in.’ He puts my Rolos and the games into a grey tray like they have at airports ‘And do you have music or a phone?’

  ‘Yes, but I wanted to show my brother a picture.’

  ‘Sorry, but it’s the rules.’ He takes my iPod and my phone. ‘Pick them up with your bag on your way out,’ he says.

  I look at my mum.

  ‘It’s just a precaution,’ says Mike Ashton. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t eat the sweets.’ He chuckles. But I don’t think it’s funny. I feel like picking them up and throwing them at him, but I think I’d get into big trouble if I did that here. ‘Right. This way.’ He leads us to a door with Visitors’ Room written on it. ‘Just go on inside,’ he says. ‘We’ll bring Ben in to you in a minute … and we’ll have a catch-up after.’

  ‘Okay,’ says my mum. ‘But he’s all right?’

  ‘Yes, he’s fine.’

  My mum’s hand hangs down by her side. I haven’t held it for ages, but I want to now. Sophie and the Georges would say I was a wimp, but I don’t think they would like it here either. My mum takes my hand and squeezes it tight, and we walk into a room that’s cold with walls that are white and empty. There are five tables, one in each corner and one in the middle. A man and a lady are behind one, and another lady is jigging a baby on her lap behind another. The lady smiles, but the other two just stare into space like me and my mum aren’t here. Mum walks towards the middle table and pulls out the chairs.

  OKAY? she mouths.

  I nod, but I’m not really. I’m dying to see Ben, but this place is so scary it’s making me want to go home. The man coughs and it echoes round the room. Then I hear footsteps clicking down the corridor; they stop, there’s a scuffling sound at the door and then it opens. Mike Ashton walks in followed by two boys wearing identical blue Tshirts and jeans. Andrew MacManus is behind them. The first boy walks to the table in one corner; the second boy glances around the room like he’s looking for someone, then he sees me. I don’t know that it’s Ben until he suddenly smiles.

  ‘Ben!’ I leap up.

  ‘Shush.’ Mike Ashton holds his finger up to his lips. I feel like I’ve been told off at school. Ben walks towards me. I want to hug him, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to. No one else has hugged. The other boy just walked to his table and sat down without saying anything.

  I sit back down. Ben sits opposite me. I smile at him. He smiles back, but he doesn’t look like he did at home. His hair is cut really short and the skin under his eyes is dark like he’s smeared it with camouflage paint. He doesn’t look like my brother. He looks like a soldier. As he gets closer, I see it’s not paint, it’s because he’s tired.

  I go to speak, but after waiting yonks to see him my mind has gone blank. I can’t stop staring at him. Mum ruffles my hair.

  ‘Thought you might like to see him,’ she whispers like we’re in a hospital.

  Ben smiles at her, then rubs his hand over his head. ‘You get used to it, Danny,’ he says quietly. ‘But it’s a bit cold.’

  I try to smile. He doesn’t look like Ben and he doesn’t sound like him either. He’s usually shouting and messing around. I can’t tell if he’s quiet because he’s in here or if he’s feeling bad about what he’s done.

  Someone coughs and makes me jump. I glance around the room. Everyone is leaning over the tables and whispering. I look back at Ben. I want him to jump up and grab my neck and wrestle. I want him to tell a rude joke. I want him do a fly kick like Kazuya on Tekken. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to do any of those things and I don’t think I would if I had to stay in a place like this.

  Mum leans forward. ‘Dad sends his love. And he says he’ll come next week.’

  Ben tries to smile again. Then Mum clears her throat.

  ‘Dan’s brought you a few things … Haven’t you, Dan?’ She nudges me, but I’m not really listening. I’m still staring at my brother. ‘Dan?’

  I slide the comics across the table. ‘I got you these,’ I say. ‘Dad gave me the money.’

  ‘Thanks, Danny.’ Ben flicks through the pages. I still can’t think of anything to say to him. I wish I’d made a list like Mum said, but I thought it’d be easy to talk. I thought it would be just like at home.

  Mum nudges me again. ‘Tell Ben about Twinkling Star.’

  Ben looks up and laughs.

  ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘What have you been doing?’

  I smile. That’s the first time he’s sounded like my brother. I pull my chair closer to the table.

  ‘She’s brilliant,’ I say. ‘I had a picture of her but they took my phone. But she’s great. We’ve got all the bottles on and all we’ve got to do is get wood for the oars and the rudder, and a mascot.’

  ‘Get it from the same warehouse we got the base planks. They’ve got loads and you can get the mascot there too.’

  Mum puts her hands over her ears. ‘Umm, I don’t think I should be listening to this,’ she says.

  Ben laughs. ‘What else have you done? Have you got a sail?’

  ‘No, not yet, but me and Shark Face are working on her again tomorrow.’

  ‘Shark Face? Is that the weird one who wears gloves all the time?’

  ‘Dan!’ Mum jumps in. ‘That’s not very nice. His name’s Alex.’

  ‘Yes, that’s him. But he’s not weird. Well, he is weird, but he’s okay now.’

  ‘Sounds like it,’ Ben smiles.


  ‘He’s helped lots, but I told him Shooting Star is ours.’

  ‘It’s okay. I don’t mind if he’s helping. Means I don’t have to do so much when I—’

  Ben jumps as the door opens. A guard walks in with a boy who must be a head taller than Ben. The room goes quiet as everybody stops talking. The guard points to the back of the room.

  ‘Go on, Booth, you’ve not got long.’

  Booth glares at Ben as he walks past us like he’s daring him to speak. Ben looks down at the table. My heart is thudding in my chest. This place is full of boys who look like men.

  Ben’s still looking at the table. Mum always says he can talk for England, but he’s hardly said a word today. It’s like nothing happens in here for him to talk about.

  I take a deep breath. I only just got used to whispering, now I’ve got to start all over again. I think of the list that I should have written down.

  I tell him little bits about Game of Thrones, but not enough to spoil it. Then I tell him about the Albion, that our dad still goes to the games, but I don’t because it’s really quiet without him. When he looks down at the table again, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. I ask him what his lessons are like. He just shrugs and says they’re okay. Then I ask him about some of the teachers he wrote about in one of his letters and he just shrugs again. It’s like he’s told me all the exciting bits in his letters and now he’s got nothing to say.

  I’ve been talking like mad but all my stuff about football and Shooting Star can’t be very important compared to the things that happen here. Now I’ve stopped talking, all I can hear is whispering on the other tables.

  It’s nothing like when me and Ben used to talk at home. I would sit on his bed and he’d tell me about how he’d got into trouble at school, but that I couldn’t say anything to Mum. Then he’d talk about the things he was going to do when he left home, like saving lots of money and getting a motorbike and I could go on the back and he’d take me to the Albion games when Dad couldn’t go. One time he said we could get on a ferry and drive through France and Germany. He didn’t know where we would go, only that we’d never stop. I used to love listening to him because he made me feel like the most important person in the world. But in here it’s as if the guards have stolen his tongue.

  The woman in the corner gets a bottle out of a bag and starts to feed the baby. Ben nods at the boy she’s visiting.

  I lean forward. ‘Is that Five X?’ I whisper.

  Ben looks down at the table like he hasn’t heard me. I lean closer.

  ‘Ben, is that Five X?’

  Ben looks up. ‘Who?’

  ‘Five X.’

  ‘Five X?’

  ‘Yeah … you talk to him loads and he beats you at FIFA.’

  ‘Oh … oh yeah. Yeah, that’s him.’ He glances across at Five X. Five X stares back at us. He doesn’t look very friendly. Ben looks down at the table. Five X doesn’t look like the sort of boy who plays FIFA – he looks like he should be in WWE. If he did play FIFA I think I’d let him win.

  ‘Dad says Albion are doing well,’ says Mum, like she’s trying to cheer Ben up. ‘He says to tell you Murray is scoring loads and … and Sam Baldock.’ She says it likes she’s reading it.

  Ben smiles. ‘It’s all right, Mum. You don’t have pretend you like football.’

  Mum shrugs. ‘Well, I was only trying.’

  Ben flinches as a door opens. Another guard walks in and talks to Mike Ashton. Ben looks down at the comics like a strict teacher has just walked in. Mike Ashton checks his watch.

  ‘Five more minutes,’ he says.

  ‘What?’ I jump and Ben flinches again as the voice of the boy who stared at Ben echoes round the room.

  ‘I’ve only had ten minutes.’

  ‘And whose fault was that?’ asks the officer. He stares at Booth like he doesn’t want him to answer.

  Booth stands up, storms past our table. The guard opens the door and they go out into the corridor. When Sophie kicks off at school, it’s not half as scary as this.

  I look at Ben. His eyes have gone darker and his face has turned white.

  ‘Dad’ll come soon,’ says Mum. She puts her hand on top of Ben’s. He slides it away in case someone is looking. Ben swallows hard and his eyes start to water.

  We can’t be going. Coming here is worse than going to the doctor’s, going to the dentist and being sent to the headmaster all on the same day. But I don’t want to leave yet.

  Five minutes. We’ve only got five minutes, but I can’t think of anything to say. And neither can Ben because his face is frozen like he’s seen a ghost.

  ARE YOU OKAY? Mum mouths.

  Ben nods, but his eyes are so shiny I know he isn’t.

  I wish he could walk out of here with us, get in the car and go home. But the guards would stop him, they’d recognise his clothes. I wish we could swap places. But my jumper would be up to his elbows and my trousers would be up to his knees. It’s a stupid plan anyway because it means I’d be stuck in here instead of him.

  ‘Okay,’ says Mike Ashton. ‘Let’s call it there.’

  Chairs scrape across the floor. Ben gets up slowly. I want to give him a hug and cling to him. Mum wraps her arms round him. Ben closes his eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ he whispers.

  ‘I know, love. I know.’ Mum rubs her hand across his back. ‘Just keep going and we’ll see you soon.’ Her voice is shaky like she’s talking underwater.

  Ben lets go of her. I walk round the side of the table and he wraps his arms round my head.

  ‘Don’t forget to look after Horace until I come back.’ He sounds like he’s underwater too.

  ‘I won’t.’

  Then he squeezes me tighter and whispers, ‘Keep working on Shooting Star, Danny. It won’t be long.’

  ‘I will.’ I try to tell him I’m working on it again tomorrow, but he’s already walking towards the door. My chest is aching and I can hardly swallow. Mum holds my hand so tight that I can feel the blood pumping through my fingers.

  We follow Mike Ashton back out into the corridor. All I can hear is the distant sound of someone shouting and our footsteps. Mike Ashton stops when we reach reception and says he wants to talk to Mum. I walk outside into the car park. The sky is dark and cloudy and it’s starting to rain. I turn and look at the building. It looks bigger and colder now that I’ve seen what it’s like inside. I imagine Ben walking back through the corridors, past all the other kids who look like adults. I think of him sitting all alone in his room, staring at the wall.

  Ben isn’t having fun, he’s scared. He doesn’t play on Xbox. I don’t think Five X is his friend. Dad’s right. This isn’t a holiday camp. It’s a horrible place. I don’t care about being a big fish any more. I just want my brother to come home.

  Alex: I want tarmac, I want concrete, I want pavement

  ‘Alex, just this once.’

  ‘No I can’t.’

  ‘But I haven’t seen a cat go on the grass for ages.’

  What about the squirrels, the badgers and the foxes?

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘But you’ve been working on that stupid raft all week.’

  ‘It’s not a stupid raft.’

  ‘Is.’

  ‘It’s not!’

  ‘Pleeeeeease. It’s boring on my own.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Pig! I hope your hands drop off.’ Lizzie scowls at me and runs out of the sitting room. Five seconds later I see her outside, bouncing up and down on the trampoline. Even if I could make it across the grass, I wouldn’t be able to bounce on it. It’s got little white marks all over it and the edges have turned green. I can’t remember the last time I went on it, but it was about the same time I stopped going on my bike.

  Lizzie keeps bouncing, then pokes her tongue out at me.

  I wish I was down at the cave working on Shooting Star today. Last night I designed a name plaque for her. I added five more O’s to Shooting and then
drew a star rocketing across the sky. I thought of taking it down to the cave to show Dan, but he’s probably designed a plaque with Ben. They might even be doing it at the STC right now. They’ll be sitting side by side and Dan will be drawing Shooting Star and telling Ben about all the work we’ve done. Then they’ll sketch out a design for a plaque that will be way better than mine. It’s their raft after all.

  I hope Ben suddenly realizes that he’s put the buoys in the wrong place so I don’t have to tell Dan. I don’t want to bring it up again in case I upset him like I did last time. Maybe they’ve already chatted about Shooting Star and now they’re playing Call of Duty or FIFA like Dan said they would. I bet they’re having a great time even if the STC seems like a scary place. I looked it up last night. I don’t know what Ben did or why he was sent there, but from the wire fences and walls I saw around the buildings, STC sounds like another word for a prison.

  Lizzie stops bouncing, then holds her finger up to get my attention.

  WATCH THIS! she mouths. She does four more bounces, then a forward flip. I smile. She brushes her hair out of her eyes. AND THIS!

  She starts to bounce again, but I’m not really watching. All I can think about today is Shooting Star.

  Lizzie stops bouncing.

  COME OUT! PLEEEEASE! She put her hands together.

  I feel sorry for her. Why can’t I just go out and bounce like a normal brother?

  I walk into the kitchen.

  Mum’s by the sink, putting the washing in the machine.

  ‘Oh, Alex.’ She points at my T-shirt and hoodie on the worktop. ‘You can’t keep putting stuff in the wash after only wearing it once. It wears them out quicker, and it wears me out too.’

  ‘But it’s dirty.’

  ‘It’s not.’ She picks up my hoodie. ‘It’s not. I can’t see a mark on it.’

  I stare at my hoodie. Mum can’t see a mark, but I can see hundreds. Where I sat in Dad’s car, where my elbow knocked a lamppost on the seafront, where my cuff brushed against the wall.

  Mum puts the hoodie back down on the worktop.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asks.

  ‘Outside,’ I say, ‘to play with Lizzie.’