Bone by Bone

by Sanjida Kay

  Her mother stroked Autumn’s cheek and then hugged Laura. She could smell her mother’s perfume, a bright, fresh, floral scent. Laura couldn’t remember when Vanessa hadn’t worn it. The perfume immediately transported her back to being a child in Namibia. She had a good sense of smell and she’d been able to detect the faint odour left by animals that had just passed, as if it was an invisible thread draped between the paperbark trees – the hot, monkey scent of baboons, an earthy aroma of warm hay when a kudu had picked its way through the stones, the sweet spice of a civet. And her mother – when she wasn’t following the animals she studied, as then she wouldn’t even wear deodorant – left a living green seam in the air, as if, just out of sight, the desert had burst into bloom.

  Her recollection reminded her that her mother had praised her once – a rare occurrence – for her ability to track animals through the desert using smell and the minute signs they left of their passing, but had then swiftly followed up the compliment by saying she’d always thought Laura would become a biologist like her and use her skills to study animals. Such a waste, she’d concluded, and Laura was left to feel, yet again, that even her talents, such as they were, disappointed her mother.

  She drew away from Vanessa and watched her thread her way through the crowded concourse and onto the platform, her silver hair gleaming in the grey light. Autumn slipped one mittened hand in hers and she started to walk out of the station, tugging the child with her.

  Monday 29 October

  AUTUMN

  ‘But, Mum! It’s actually lighter right now!’

  ‘Well, yes. But your dad said he doesn’t want you walking through the nature reserve on your own. And neither do I.’

  ‘In the dark! He meant when it was dark!’ Autumn stopped, wondering whether her mum would figure out she’d been eavesdropping on their Skype conversation.

  Her mum sighed. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll be there this afternoon to take you to gymnastics. And don’t worry about Levi. I’ll make an appointment to speak to your head teacher today.’

  She bent to kiss her on the cheek.

  ‘What!’ Autumn pulled away. ‘No way, Mum. Why do you think Levi tore up my pictures? It was because you complained to Mrs Sibson about him and then she spoke to Mr Bradley. And she talked to all the dinner ladies! What do you think he’s going to do if you see Mr George?’

  ‘Autumn, we have to…’

  ‘I won’t speak to you ever again if you do,’ said Autumn, stepping out of the back door into the garden and slamming the door behind her.

  It had been so sunny on Saturday but today it was grey and cold with a sharp edge to the wind. Autumn did up the buttons on her new coat and jumped into the lane. Her mum had promised to tell Granny what had happened, but she couldn’t have. Autumn was sure Granny would have talked about it on Sunday but she didn’t, not even when she was about to catch the train home. All she’d said was, Be a big, brave girl. And that meant she couldn’t ask Granny what would happen to her mum. Not now, not ever, because soon she’d be in Africa.

  She pulled her woolly hat out of her pocket and jammed it on her head. She still felt angry at her mum for breaking her promise. What would Levi do to her now? Her mum was convinced he’d leave her alone but Autumn didn’t believe her. He’d have a bruise on his face. How would he explain that? And how would he live up to losing his cool in front of his mates? She knew the answer: by taking it out on her. She felt a cold dread at the prospect of another day at school.

  Monday mornings always started with Exciting Writing, which Autumn liked, as long as Mrs Sibson didn’t ask her to read out what she’d written. She rushed over to her drawer in the classroom to get her special pen. The case was black with a red, velvety interior and opened and shut with a satisfying click. The pen was thin and gold and wrote in black ink, which Autumn thought was sophisticated. Her mum had given it to her when they left London for Bristol in the summer.

  A present, she’d said, but it wasn’t Autumn’s birthday.

  She didn’t know why her mum had given her the pen, but she thought it had something to do with leaving her friends and her school and the house she’d always lived in. And maybe leaving Dad too. Although, technically, he left first.

  It was empty. She felt as if her stomach was falling, the sick feeling you get when a lift goes down too fast. She stood in front of her open drawer, holding the case, and shut her eyes in disbelief. She could feel her throat beginning to swell as if she was about to cry. Her mum would be sad if she knew she’d lost it. It looked expensive and she knew her mum didn’t have much money any more.

  But she’d been so careful with the pen. She’d always remembered to replace it in its case. She thought back to Friday. She’d put it in the drawer, she was certain of it. Although she shouldn’t have left it over the weekend at school. Slowly, she put the case back and closed the drawer. It had to be Levi who’d taken it. It was his way of punishing her for what her Mum had done to him.

  After lunch, just before all the other children were about to come in, she went to speak to Mrs Sibson. The teacher was bustling around the classroom, tidying up and straightening desks and chairs.

  ‘What is it, Autumn? It’s not the end of break yet.’

  Autumn closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then opened them. It was hard to make the words come out.

  ‘I think someone has stolen my pen,’ she whispered. ‘I think… I think it might have been Levi.’

  ‘What pen?’ asked Mrs Sibson, turning away to wipe the blackboard clean. ‘The gold-coloured one?’

  ‘Yes,’ Autumn mumbled.

  ‘I told you before, it’s too valuable to have in school. Do you think you might have lost it?’

  Autumn wanted to leave. She wished she hadn’t said anything to Mrs Sibson. She could feel her cheeks glowing red and hot.

  The teacher sighed and turned to face her. She set the board rubber down on the edge of her desk with a small, sharp bang.

  Autumn flinched.

  ‘Why on earth would you think Levi took it? Year 6 pupils don’t come into this classroom.’

  She strode across the room and yanked open Autumn’s drawer. She took out the small faux-leather case and opened it.

  ‘The pen’s here, Autumn. You must have misplaced it,’ she said. ‘I suggest you keep it at home from now on. I know how important it is to you.’

  Mrs Sibson snapped the case shut and held it out to her. Autumn hesitated and then reached out her hand. She opened the case slowly, as if it were a magic trick and the pen would vanish once more. It was there. Like a solid gold talisman, smooth and shiny and perfect. She touched it with one fingertip. When she looked up, Mrs Sibson was still staring at her.

  ‘It’s very serious to accuse another child of stealing. You do know that, don’t you?’

  Autumn nodded and felt the flush burn into her ears and crackle along the roots of her hair.

  Mrs Sibson’s face softened, as if she regretted speaking abruptly to her. She was about to say something else, perhaps something kinder, but the bell rang and children started to barge into the classroom.

  That afternoon break a group of older boys gathered around her, pushing and jostling. They leant in towards her, singing, ‘Liar, liar, liar’, but softly so the teacher, who was in the far corner of the playground, wouldn’t hear. She didn’t know where to look, what to do. She stared at her feet. The toes of her navy-blue shoes were scuffed beige from wear. Catching sight of the yard out of the corner of her eyes, she realized that she was alone. All her friends, who’d been sitting on the tree log with her, had disappeared. Melted away.

  The chanting. It was to do with the accusation she’d made about Levi.

  But how did he know? Had he been watching her through the classroom window?

  She became abnormally aware of every part of her body, from her bony knees stretching her tights threadbare, the co
llar of her polo neck shirt itching against her skin, her hands splayed flat on the log, with their spade-shaped nails mottled red with cold. She couldn’t move. She felt if she did she’d draw even more attention to herself. Pressing her hands into the hard wood helped her stop thinking she might cry. She wished and wished that time would speed up, that the bell would ring for the end of break, for rain, for hail, for snow, so she wouldn’t have to play outside.

  Levi was standing a few metres away now, arms folded, leaning on the climbing frame. He looked as if he were not part of the mob he had created. He looked pleased with himself. There was a crust of dried blood under his eye and his cheek was a dull purple, the colour of a plum. When the bell finally rang, the other boys wandered off. She felt trapped, like one of those butterflies pinioned through the abdomen in museum cases. Levi, with his hands in his pockets, sauntered over.

  He leant in close to her and said softly, ‘It feels good, doesn’t it? Nice clean line. Cool in your hand.’

  She remained outside until the playground was empty.

  How does he know how my pen writes if he didn’t take it?

  She thought about the Skype call with her Dad on Saturday. She’d been looking forward to seeing him so much and then he’d laughed and said, You’re at a great school, Autumn, and she’d felt like she was drowning because he wasn’t listening and her mum was making it all worse and no one would take her out of this place.

  Slowly and stiffly, she stood up and walked inside.

  LAURA

  It was so hard to hear with the wind whistling past her mobile. Laura was attempting to retrieve the tools one-handed from the back of the Land Rover and ignore Ted’s frown as she called the school. The line had either been engaged or it had gone straight to answerphone when she’d tried phoning as she was walking to work. Just as she was about to hang up again, the secretary picked up.

  ‘Ashley Grove Junior School. May I help you?’

  ‘Yes, hello, can you hear me okay?’ Laura put down the shears she was tugging out of the boot and opened the back door to create a wind shield. ‘It’s Laura Baron-Cohen, Autumn Wild’s mum. I’d like to arrange an appointment with the head teacher, please.’

  ‘Can I ask what it’s regarding?’ said the secretary.

  Laura wanted to say, ‘No’, flatly and loudly. Instead she said, ‘I want to talk to him about how Autumn is settling in. I’ve already spoken to her class teacher and she suggested I make an appointment.’

  It was only a small fudging of the truth, she thought. Mrs Sibson hadn’t phoned to tell her if she’d actually spoken to Levi’s class teacher or not. And, in spite of what she’d said, Autumn couldn’t know for sure either. She was certain the teacher wouldn’t give her Levi’s parents’ number if she asked for it. What she couldn’t understand was why the police or the boy’s father, or even his mother, hadn’t been round to see her, so it was better to speak to the head first, before anyone reported her. She would explain about the bullying and make sure something was done about it. She felt guilty, thinking of how upset Autumn had been this morning when she’d told her she was going to try and see the head. Would it make the situation worse? She had no idea, but she had to make sure the boy never had a chance to hurt her daughter again.

  ‘Mr George doesn’t have any availability today. The earliest he could see you would be tomorrow at 2.30. Is that any good to you?’

  She saw Levi’s face as she’d laid her hands on his chest, before shoving him viciously; how he’d fallen away from her, almost in slow motion.

  ‘Yes,’ she said quickly.

  ‘I hope you’re not going to make a habit of this,’ Barney said, squinting at his watch.

  It was just before three. It was a little early to leave work, but she wanted to pack away her tools and make sure she wasn’t late to pick Autumn up. She certainly wasn’t going to let her daughter walk anywhere on her own in the late afternoon now that it was starting to grow dark, no matter what Autumn said.

  ‘No, of course, not. I’m really sorry, Barney. Just having a few problems with Autumn. I’m going to have to leave early tomorrow too – about two. Appointment with the headmaster. Hopefully it’ll all be resolved then.’ She smiled at him. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Barney merely grunted and Ted smirked at her. She hovered for a moment and then set off through the nature reserve to reach the school. Partly because it was so overcast, it already felt like dusk. Laura stumbled as she struggled to see the path. The wind scattered a few bedraggled leaves from the branches above her head and splattered her with icy rain drops. She’d felt unsettled all day: she’d kept thinking about Autumn and hoping that she was okay. Levi would have to be brazen to continue bullying her, but she couldn’t be sure. She wondered if she’d see Levi in the playground and if he’d say anything to her. His class teacher was bound to ask about the bruise on his face… Would he tell Mr Bradley what had happened? She quickened her pace.

  She hurried across the road to school, looking at her watch. Right on time. There was a small huddle of mothers in the playground: Rebecca, tall and statuesque in the middle, with Amy, Rani and Lily on either side. She was listening intently to a man who was standing in front of her. Laura walked towards the group, but changed direction when she saw Autumn coming out of the entrance. Autumn was pale and she looked upset. She glanced at the man and ran over to Laura.

  ‘How was your day, sweetheart?’ asked Laura, her words catching in her throat.

  Before Autumn could answer, Rebecca’s head snapped up and she looked straight at Laura. Laura half-smiled and waved and then dropped her arm in confusion. Rebecca’s mouth was set in a hard line. She gathered Tilly and Poppy towards her and turned away. Laura felt as if a smooth stone were slowly turning in her chest. Rebecca must have found out. The other mothers, the women she was starting to think of as her friends, looked over and their expressions were a mixture of anger and shock.

  ‘It’s him,’ said Autumn, but so quietly Laura could barely hear her.

  ‘Who, love?’ she asked.

  The man swung around to face her. It was Aaron. He looked agitated, running one hand through his hair.

  ‘Hi,’ said Laura, startled to see him again so soon. She thought about his last email, the one where he’d described how to spot Jupiter. She hadn’t replied yet – she was still thinking about what to say without sounding too flirtatious or needy.

  ‘You! It’s her. She’s the one who did it!’

  Rage had turned him into a different person, his eyes wide, his features rigid, as he flailed his arms stiffly, pointing at her. Laura instinctively pulled Autumn towards her. Aaron strode in her direction.

  ‘How dare you? I even spent the evening fixing your fucking laptop, barely a couple of hours after you assaulted my son.’

  ‘What?’ said Laura. ‘You must be—’

  ‘My son. Levi.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Laura, and her face started to burn.

  ‘Oh, you remember now. How could you? He’s a child.’

  ‘Levi? But I…’

  She started shivering. Aaron raised his arm and she thought he might be about to hit her. She stepped away from him, pulling her daughter with her. Autumn stumbled and almost fell. Laura helped her up and looked back to see Aaron dragging Levi towards them.

  ‘She knocked him to the ground! He hit his head on a rock!’ he announced loudly.

  The circle of parents watching had grown larger. Laura swallowed painfully and felt her scalp tighten as the blush spread to the roots of her hair.

  ‘You’re sure it was this woman?’ said Aaron, turning Levi towards her and pointing at her.

  ‘Yes, it was her,’ said Levi, looking at her expressionlessly and folding his arms across his chest.

  The group of parents were all staring at her. Even as ashamed and uncomfortable as she was, Lau
ra thought there was something different about Levi. It was his voice, she realized. He sounded like a nice, middle-class boy. The urban gangsta accent had gone.

  ‘He cut his cheek open!’ said Aaron.

  Laura forced herself to look properly at Levi. It was bad, but not quite as horrendous as she’d thought. His cheek, just below his left eye, was puffy and bruised, and there was a scab of dried blood, where the stone had sliced his flesh open. Thank God it was small enough not to need stitches.

  ‘He could have lost his eye,’ said one woman.

  ‘He wasn’t staying with me this weekend so I didn’t find out about it until now. But by God, if I’d known earlier…’ said Aaron.

  Rebecca looked directly at her. She had an arm around each of her girls. ‘Is it true?’ she asked. ‘Did you do this?’

  ‘He was bullying Autumn,’ said Laura. ‘He tore up her paintings!’

  Rebecca didn’t reply. She turned and walked away quickly, hustling Tilly and Poppy in front of her. Levi calmly put his hands in his pockets and regarded her coldly.

  ‘There’s been some misunderstanding…’ said Laura desperately.

  ‘You’re right there,’ said Aaron. He jabbed his finger at her. ‘I’m considering whether to report you to the police. In the meantime, I suggest you stay away from my son.’

  He put his arm around Levi’s shoulders and led him away. A few parents muttered and shook their heads. Autumn suddenly burst into tears.

  ‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ whispered Laura, hugging her and wiping away her tears.