‘But?’
‘But I think they’ll insist you name the guilty party.’
‘They can’t make us.’ I sounded braver than I felt. I wasn’t keen on the word ‘insist’.
‘Hold onto that thought,’ said Dad. ‘They can’t make you. And I won’t either. Seems like Jamie and his mum have got enough to deal with.’ Dad got up to leave, but stopped at the door.
‘It wouldn’t hurt to let Jamie know you’ve figured it all out, but you’re not going to rat on him. It won’t help anyone if he takes what’s happening with his mum out on people at school.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Thanks, Dad.’ I didn’t want to forget what Dad said so I hopped out of bed and wrote down the important bits.
They can’t make us tell on Jamie.
But we need to tell Jamie we know.
Showdown
I overslept on Friday. Oversleeping in our house isn’t normally possible because there are five of us and three of them set alarms. But Dad switched his off because he was working from home, which meant he didn’t have to get up and out by seven. The one on Mum’s side of the bed went off extra early because she was going on a course, but she didn’t wake up Flo and me because she’d asked Amy to get us up. Amy uses her iPhone and she forgot that she’d put it on silent because spotty boyfriend’s been calling her all the time – he’s changed his mind and wants her back. Don’t do it, Amy. So, Dad came charging in at eight-thirty, ripped my duvet off and yelled in my ear.
I yelled too. Waaaaagh! Not because I was late, because I was frightened.
Dad drove us all to school. I’d missed registration.
‘Sorry I’m late, miss.’
I had a quick check. Callum wasn’t there. So the showdown was still set for break. I repeated in my head the main bits of my chat with Dad. All I had to do was keep my gob shut when Miss Walsh demanded to know who the poison-painter was.
Time whizzed by. The bell went and instead of legging it outside, the others stayed in the classroom so I did too. I wished I’d been in on the discussions before school. I didn’t know what the plan was.
‘Miss Walsh, can we talk to you please?’ said Bee.
Miss Walsh bundled her books up. ‘Not now, Bee. See me after break.’ She left.
Bee sat back on one of the desks. ‘Great!’
‘It doesn’t matter. We’ll tell her after break,’ said Jonno.
We decided to stay inside. It’s not allowed but that way we’d be there when Miss Walsh got back and before all the rest of our class came in from break. It was a bad move. Break is short, but break doing nothing but waiting for your stressy teacher is extremely long.
Finally we heard the clip-clop of Miss Walsh’s red shoes. She wears high heels and sticky-out flowery skirts. Bee says she looks like a little girl wearing her mum’s clothes.
‘So what is it?’ she said as she came in. ‘Another sponsored silence? Another endangered animal found in your tree stump?’ Something told me Miss Walsh wasn’t in the mood to hear our announcement. Bee hesitated before she launched into the speech she’d rehearsed.
‘We know that Callum’s been suspended for writing on the whiteboard, but we also know he didn’t do it. We know who did do it, and so does Callum, but we can’t tell you the name. We have the right to remain silent, about that bit, but Callum needs to be allowed back to school because he is completely innocent.’ The first members of our class started trickling back in, in time to hear Miss Walsh’s response.
‘Who do you think you are? The school’s conscience? Callum’s situation is nothing to do with you. And neither is his guilt or innocence. Let’s hope the senior school knocks some of the hot air out of you. Something needs to. Sit down, the lot of you.’
I went to sit down, but I stopped before I got to my chair because none of the other Tribers had moved. They were standing in a row, looking gob-smacked. Bee recovered first.
‘So you don’t care that Callum is at home accused of something he didn’t do?’ she said. The rest of the class were enjoying the spat but I wanted to crawl into my desk. Angry Bee is quite scary. And Angry Bee usually gets us all in deep trouble.
‘Don’t talk to me like that,’ said Miss Walsh.
‘What’s going on here?’ said a voice I’d rather not have heard at that particular moment – the Head’s.
Miss Walsh opened her mouth but Bee was quicker.
‘We have just told Miss Walsh that we know who wrote on the whiteboard with paint, although we can’t say who it was, but it wasn’t Callum. And Miss Walsh said —’
‘Enough,’ said the Head. ‘I don’t think this is a conversation the whole class needs to hear. My office, you five.’ She looked at the four Tribers in a row, I think she might even have counted them to make doubly sure there were only four, and then she spotted me, hovering near my desk. She pointed. ‘That includes you.’
The Head turned to our livid teacher, who was about to have a hissy fit that matched the kicking-the-hamster one. ‘I’ll handle this, thank you, Miss Walsh.’
Not again! I wanted to scream. Why were the Tribers always in the Head’s office? Because of Bee was the answer this time, and a few other times. Her mouth needs a zip, I thought. A lockable one.
On the way I remembered Dad’s words about the right to remain silent. No one can make us say anything. I repeated it in my head, to make sure it stuck.
Saying Nothing
I was last through the Head’s door. I turned round to shut it and I’m sure I saw the back of Callum’s mum disappearing out of the main door. When I turned back round the Head was smiling. Spooky.
‘Thank you, Keener.’
Bee tried to carry on from where she left off. ‘We —’ but the Head stopped her after the first syllable.
‘I don’t think you are very fond of Callum, and vice versa,’ she said, doing her usual swivelling round to include us all. ‘But I find I’m not surprised to hear you pleading his case. A sense of what’s right seems to run very deep with your Tribe.’ She was still smiling. It was unnerving. ‘As you already know, it wasn’t Callum who damaged the whiteboard. Although the evidence certainly pointed that way.’ Still smiling. ‘I gather from Callum’s mother that it was after your visit that Callum told her the truth. I don’t think we need discuss who was to blame – that truth shall stay unspoken between those who know, for reasons we also know.’ Listening to the Head made me feel like we were part of a secret society. One that smiled a lot.
Everyone nodded, so I did too.
‘Leave it to me,’ said the Head, and stood up, which meant it was time to go. ‘And good work,’ she added.
‘Thank you,’ said Jonno. I was already in the corridor so I didn’t say anything. In fact, I’d said nothing throughout the whole showdown. Perfect!
We didn’t go straight back to our class. We loitered in the corridor and whispered about how amazing it is that just when we think we’re in sinking sand up to our necks, somehow someone throws the Tribers a rope and we drag ourselves out.
‘Let’s go back in now. Miss Walsh will be expecting us to look defeated. This will finish her off,’ said Bee.
‘Don’t rub it in, Bee,’ said Jonno.
Why not? I thought.
‘Why not? She said she didn’t care,’ said Bee.
‘You said she didn’t care,’ said Jonno. ‘ She said it was nothing to do with us.’
‘Whatever.’ Bee pushed open the classroom door.
‘In you come,’ said Miss Walsh, peculiarly nicely. ‘We’re having a quiet few minutes listening to some of Siegfried Sassoon’s poetry from World War One.’
We filed in and sat down. Miss Walsh read a poem called ‘Everybody Sang’. She read it twice. Afterwards she asked what it was about. Jonno was really into it. He said, ‘He’s talking about freedom and letting go, or maybe being let go.’ I thought it was about singing so I didn’t say anything. Jamie put his hand up and shouted at the same time, ‘It’s the end of the war.’
&
nbsp; For once Miss Walsh let him off. She said, ‘Very good, Jamie. The poem was written after the Armistice, when the horror of war was over.’
It seemed to me that it wasn’t just Callum that was in the clear. Jamie looked a whole lot happier. It must have been pretty difficult for him, knowing his mate was suspended for something he did. But I could understand why he hadn’t owned up. If your mum had, you know, then you wouldn’t want her to be any more upset, would you?
I didn’t think we needed to take Dad’s advice and make sure Jamie knew that we knew. Callum’s mum had sorted all that out by telling the Head about the paint and the problem at home. And Miss Walsh knew too – that was obvious. So, Tribe’s job was over . . .
. . . Almost
Jonno rang as I was about to go out of the door with the rest of my family. On Friday nights we all go out to supper as a treat. We take turns choosing where we go. This week it was Amy. I didn’t care where we went. I was just pleased that spotty face wasn’t coming too. I hope she never gets another boyfriend.
‘Keener, what are you doing Saturday night?’
What did he expect me to say? Going to a night club or a pub, going out dancing with my girlfriend . . .
‘Nothing,’ I said.
‘Not any more, you’re not. We’re going out.’ It sounded a bit odd. Like I was going out with Jonno. I waited, which doesn’t work that well on the telephone. He spoke again. ‘We’re all meeting at the Tribehouse at five o’clock.’
‘Who’s we?’ I said.
‘The Tribers, of course.’
‘OK. And where are we going?’ I was hoping it was Bee’s.
‘See you then.’ He put the phone down.
‘Come on,’ said Amy. I was last in the car but Amy and Flo had both sat in the outside seats so I had to clamber over and sit in the middle. There should be a rule that stops that happening.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Prego,’ said Amy. Good. That meant garlic bread, the pasta chicken thing and three scoops of chocolate ice cream. Mum says I should try different things but I think you should stick to what you know you like.
‘We shouldn’t really be having Italian tonight,’ said Mum. ‘I bought a lasagne for tomorrow as Dad and I are going out.’
‘I’m out too,’ I said. ‘With the Tribers.’
‘More for us, Flo,’ said Amy.
‘Can we have it in front of the telly?’
Two answers came at once, ‘No,’ from Mum, ‘Yes,’ from Amy.
Followed by, ‘OK, but on a tray,’ from Mum.
No one asked me where I was going, which was good as I didn’t know. If I had known, I wouldn’t have been going.
Out For Tea
‘Sorry?’ I said. I’d obviously not heard right. Too much swimming isn’t good for your hearing.
‘Callum’s,’ Jonno said again.
What sounds like Callum’s? I thought. Kelly’s. Connor’s. Colin’s.
‘I know,’ said Fifty in a doom-filled voice. ‘I couldn’t believe it either.’
What couldn’t he believe? That we were going to Kelly’s or Connor’s or Colin’s?
‘Wait till Copper Pie gets here. He’ll have a fit,’ said Bee.
Why will he have a fit? Because he doesn’t like Kelly or Connor or Colin or whoever’s house it is we’re going to, I thought.
‘Don’t blame me,’ said Jonno. ‘Callum’s mum didn’t give me a chance to think of an excuse. Before I had a hope of coming up with a reason why I couldn’t come for tea, she was arranging the time.’
I hadn’t misheard. It wasn’t Kelly’s or Connor’s or Colin’s, we were going to Callum’s for tea. The information trickled very slowly into my brain, like water finding a way through clay.
‘It’s so embarrassing,’ said Bee. ‘We’ll have to pretend we’re friends. What will we talk about?’
‘School?’ said Fifty.
‘Good idea,’ said Bee. ‘Let’s talk about all the good times we’ve had with Callum. That shouldn’t take long.’ She was really miffed. I was hoping she’d refuse to go. I could do the same. Copper Pie probably would anyway. Jonno and Fifty could go on their own.
Even though I tried to believe that might happen, I knew it wouldn’t. It’s not Tribish to dump on your mates. It’s not Tribish to split up – Tribers stay together. It’s also not Tribish to go to tea with your enemy, but that seemed to be what was happening. Although I still wasn’t sure why.
‘Why are we going to Callum’s?’
Jonno sighed, did the pushing-back-his-springy-hair thing and then answered. ‘Callum’s mum reckons it was because of what we said when we went round that Callum blurted out the truth. She thinks we’re friends and that we helped him. So the tea’s a reward, kind of.’
Funny sort of reward, I thought.
‘Funny sort of reward,’ said Fifty.
Get out of my head, I thought.
‘Let’s not tell Copper Pie till we get there,’ said Bee. That definitely wasn’t Tribish. ‘Or he won’t come.’
‘Where won’t I come?’ said Copper Pie. He didn’t step into the Tribehouse. He stood in the doorway.
We all looked at Jonno (except Jonno, who looked back at us).
‘You’re the one with the magic words,’ said Fifty. ‘Go on.’
He persuaded C.P. last time. All he needed to do was the same again. But Jonno didn’t say anything, for longer than a few seconds. Then he said, ‘OK. How about we give you a box of beef crisps.’ He paused. ‘And we stand in goal for you every lunchtime for a week so you can take shots at us, at the goal, I mean?’
Copper Pie narrowed his eyes. ‘Why?’
Jonno screwed up his face, as though he was trying to keep the words in, but they shot out. ‘We’re all going to Callum’s for tea.’
‘All,’ said Bee.
‘Same,’ said Fifty.
I was waiting for Copper Pie to reverse straight back out, but he didn’t.
‘A box of beef crisps, goalies all week, and Keener does my homework, and I’m not saying anything at Hog’s house. Not a word.’
‘Done,’ said Jonno. He put out his hand. Four others followed. The Tribe handshake sealed the deal.
Thali Time
Callum’s mum answered the door. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and looked more like a friend of Amy’s than a mum, and completely different from last time we saw her.
‘We’re eating in about ten minutes. Go through to the back. Callum’s out there.’
Jonno was in front. He said ‘Thanks,’ and headed in the direction she’d pointed towards. Callum was sitting on the grass, holding a brown rabbit.
Bee instantly forgot he was the enemy. ‘That’s so sweet,’ she gushed. ‘What’s it called?’
‘Dizzy,’ said Callum. ‘It’s a girl.’
‘Can I hold her?’
‘Sure. She’ll go to anyone. Unlike Pinkerton.’
‘Who’s Pinkerton?’ said Jonno.
‘The anti-social rabbit,’ said Callum. ‘He’s around somewhere.’
What did he mean? He’s around somewhere. Aren’t rabbits meant to be in a cage?
Callum’s mum came out of the kitchen door holding a black rabbit. ‘Keep him out here, Callum. He’s under my feet.’ She put him down on the ground, near me. Pinkerton seemed to be looking at my trainer.
‘Stroke him, Keener,’ said Bee.
No way, I thought. Rabbits have teeth.
Fifty crouched down and let Pinkerton sniff his fingers. ‘Hello, Pinkerton.’
What is it about animals that makes people go soppy?
‘I wish I could have a pet,’ said Jonno.
‘I wish we could have less,’ said Callum.
‘Why? What else have you got?’ said Jonno.
‘We’ve got two cats, two rabbits and a corn snake.’
‘Can I see the snake?’ said Jonno.
‘Sure.’ Callum and Jonno disappeared inside. We stayed with the rabbits. So far so good. All we had to
do was scoff our tea and The Strange Case of the Pink-smeared Board and the Suspended Boy would be over.
‘Supper, everyone,’ shouted Callum’s mum. We didn’t know what to do with the rabbits so Bee gave Dizzy to me and went to ask. The rabbit was warm and quite nice to hold.
‘She said bring them in. They’re house rabbits.’ Bee made a what’s-a-house-rabbit? face with matching what’s-a-house-rabbit? hands.
I carried Dizzy and Fifty carried Pinkerton. We went through the kitchen and into a kind of sunroom – all glass and open windows. On the table there were loads of little metal dishes with totally unrecognisable food.
‘I hope you all like Indian food,’ said Callum’s mum.
‘Absolutely,’ said Bee. She sat down. Copper Pie did too. (He was doing what he said he would – saying nothing – but he looked quite interested in eating.) Jonno and Callum came in and sat next to each other. Fifty and I stood like lemons holding the bunnies (not that lemons generally hold bunnies).
‘Pop them down,’ said Callum’s mum. Down where? I looked at Fifty for a clue. He was clueless.
‘On the carpet,’ said Callum.
‘Right.’ We dumped Pinkerton and Dizzy, but I kept a roving eye on them. I didn’t want to do a Miss Walsh and kick one.
Fifty sat between Bee and Jonno. I got Callum and his mum. Great!
‘OK,’ she said. ‘This is a thali. My favourite meal because none of it’s cooked by me – all I had to do was pick it up – and because I love meals with loads of bits.’ She smiled. ‘Rice, vegetable curry, chapatis, yoghurt, chicken something or other, chutneys and dhal. Oh and paneer, that’s Indian cheese. Tuck in.’
Copper Pie didn’t need telling twice. Nor did Jonno. I hung back waiting to see what went with what in case there was an order. The answer was it all went together. And it was all right, apart from the red chutney which was spicy hot.
Callum’s mum had some red wine. We had Coke.
All through the meal there was chatting. Not uncomfortable, this-is-so-awkward chatting, easy quite funny as-though-we-were-at-Bee’s-house chatting. Weird. Don’t get the wrong idea – I wasn’t about to suggest Callum join Tribe (not that anyone can) but it was a breeze compared to how I thought it would be. I wondered where Callum’s dad was.
Labradoodle on the Loose Page 11
