Poppy's Hero

by Rachel Billington

  Poppy was sure prison wardens were a special kind of person with dark, cruel faces but she didn’t argue because she felt sorry for Will, who looked very tired and sweaty and was walking slower and slower. She was pretty hot herself. At last they saw greenery – green trees, green grass and even a bench.

  ‘Phew!’ exclaimed Poppy. Both of them flopped down and Poppy got out her bananas and biscuits and Will added two cartons of fruit drinks.

  Once they’d revived, they looked around them.

  ‘It’s a big park,’ said Poppy. Beyond the park she could see what looked like a sports stadium. Above their heads, birds tweeted in the big trees and a streaky sun came through the clouds ‘Where’s the prison?’

  ‘Behind you,’ said Will, smiling.

  Poppy twisted round, and gasped. The high, dark walls of the prison were only a few metres behind them. Still holding half a banana, she stood up and stared. The walls looked very, very solid and there were towers at intervals, like she’d seen in a war movie.

  ‘And they have dogs patrolling too,’ said Will.

  ‘There are lots of different buildings behind the walls,’ Poppy said. ‘We’ll have to find which one Dad’s in.’

  While she was staring, Will took her pad and pen and started mapping out the prison. Then he drew in a little figure waving out of a window.

  ‘That’s Big Frank!’ Poppy exclaimed.

  ‘I love drawing figures, and your dad’s so great. Larger than life. Always ready for a laugh. Do you remember when he took out a pound coin from Jude’s nose?’

  Both of them laughed, remembering the horrified expression on Jude’s face as Big Frank shouted, ‘I’ve never seen such a big bogey!’

  ‘We will get him out, won’t we?’ Poppy asked quietly.

  ‘Of course,’ answered Will.

  After that, they walked back round the prison again but this time the other way, and found they could follow the walls all the way.

  Will did lots more drawings with more Big Franks on top of turrets and dancing along walls.

  ‘You’re so clever!’ said Poppy happily, and they both felt so pleased with themselves that when they reached the main road and saw a bus coming along, they decided to try and catch it. The front of the prison could wait for another time.

  ‘Operation Great Escape has begun!’ said Poppy exultantly, as they fell into their seats.

  ‘Cheers!’ cried Will, trying to give a high five but, as the bus gave a lurch at exactly that moment, their hands missed and they narrowly avoided tipping on to the floor.

  Just for a moment Poppy caught a glimpse of the prison, making her mouth go dry, then she began giggling again. What was it her dad used to say: ‘Faint heart never won Fair Lady’? In this case, the ‘Lady’ was a man, but she and Will had hearts like lions.

  Chapter Five

  Home was gloomy. Poppy didn’t have to tell lies about what she and Will had got up to, because her mum had gone to bed with a headache.

  In the end, she ate the ham sandwiches left out for her in front of the television and went to bed. Prison reccying certainly took it out of you.

  The next morning Irena was up early. She sat watching Poppy eat her cereal.

  ‘What is it, Mum? Poppy asked. Her mum never usually sat down with her.

  ‘I saw your dad yesterday.’ Irena’s voice was strangled, as if she could hardly bear to say the words.

  Poppy felt herself go as scarlet as her hair and her mind whirled. Her mum had seen Big Frank? Inside prison? Behind those walls that she and Will had studied so carefully? She thought of Will’s drawings of the cheery man waving his arms out of a window, dancing along the walls.

  Then another thought struck her: could her mum have been inside the prison at the same time she and Will had been walking round the outside? They might even have bumped into each other! ‘What time did you see Dad?’ she asked nervously.

  Her mum looked surprised. ‘One thirty.’

  Poppy breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Was he all right?’ Her mind was racing. If her mum had been inside, she’d know which of the buildings Big Frank was in.

  ‘I took him some books,’ said Irena, ‘but I wasn’t allowed to give them to him. They said they were a security risk. Books!’

  ‘Oh,’ said Poppy, who was still trying to think straight.

  ‘He sent you his love.’

  Poppy pushed away her bowl abruptly. Her dad shouldn’t be ‘sending’ his love, he should be here now, giving her a hug, joking about her hair sticking up like a frightened porcupine.

  Toppling back her chair, she ran from the room and upstairs. ‘Poppy!’ called her mum in an unnatural voice that made her sound like an old lady.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m coming,’ Poppy called back angrily.

  It was only as she went through the school gates that she realised she hadn’t done her homework again. Trouble ahead, she thought dismally – then furiously. Why should she be expected to do homework when her dad was in prison! No one else’s dad was in prison.

  It was only meeting Will at lunch break that changed her mood. When she told him about her mum seeing her dad, he said immediately, ‘So, can you visit him too?’

  Poppy was taken aback. ‘Mum didn’t suggest it. She just said he sent his love – as if I was some remote cousin or something.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask her?’

  Poppy wondered how to answer. When it came down to it, did she really want to see her wonderful dad in prison?

  She was saved from answering by Jude and Tania brushing past.

  ‘You look like two conspirators,’ said Jude, nudging Tania and laughing.

  It was true, Poppy thought, they look fairly silly huddled together among the coat hooks and lockers. It was a pity Will looked such a loser, when in fact he was really clever and daring. What’s it to you?’ was all she could think of to say.

  The two girls went off chanting ‘Wimpy Will’ under their breath.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Poppy to Will.

  ‘I’m used to it,’ he said in a stiff voice.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Poppy again, remembering guiltily how she used to make fun of him. ‘Anyway, I will ask Mum about visiting Big Frank. That’s a very good idea.’

  She only said it to make Will feel better, and he immediately brightened. ‘Then you can pinpoint exactly where he is, which will make Operation Great Escape much easier.’

  ‘OK,’ said Poppy, who was already regretting her promise. ‘I’ll ask Mum tonight.’

  ‘Another thing,’ said Will. ‘I think you should be nicer to Jude and the rest. Otherwise, they’ll get suspicious about what we’re up to.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ said Poppy, who was beginning to think that Will was getting just a bit too bossy. The trouble was, he tended to be right!

  The evening didn’t begin well. Poppy had to hand over a letter from school telling her mum she hadn’t been doing her homework. But to her surprise, Irena wasn’t cross,

  ‘Never mind, my darling. You’ve always been a top student.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Poppy doubtfully. She’d liked school before – it had been so easy. Now she didn’t likeanything.

  ‘Tonight we are having fun,’ continued Irena. ‘Look what I have bought.’ She took a music book from her bag and flourished it in front of Poppy. ‘All your favourite hits.’ She turned the cover so that Poppy could see. ‘Now we will go upstairs and I will play to you. Such fun we will have!’

  Poppy followed her upstairs slowly. She felt like crying – again. She mustn’t let it become a habit. It was so pathetic, her mum trying to make her happy by playing songs. Didn’t she realise that hits from Annie or The Phantom of the Opera or Cats were oldies’ stuff? Anyway, she knew her mum really only liked classical music. But they both spent an hour pretending to have a nice time and it was a warm feeling to be together.

  Over spinach pancakes – a Polish favourite – Poppy gathered her courage before she said in a bright tone, ‘Maybe I could co
me with you next time you go and see Dad?’ She stared at her mother, who looked so taken aback that she added quickly, ‘I mean, I haven’t seen him for ages.’ This was such a silly thing to say that she had to stifle a hysterical laugh. Of course she hadn’t seen him for ages – because he was in PRISON!

  ‘I don’t know.’ Irena sounded anxious. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to come.’ She paused. ‘I don’t know that your papa would like you to see him in a place like that.’

  It was always a sign that Irena was upset when she referred to Poppy’s dad as ‘Papa’, as if he were her own papa back in Poland.

  Poppy hadn’t thought what it would be like to visit her dad in a cell, like visiting a tiger in the zoo, all caged up. She’d never liked zoos.

  She couldn’t tell her mum the real reason for wanting to see her dad: so that she and Will could plan their Operation Great Escape better.

  ‘I just thought it would be nice,’ she said feebly.

  ‘Nice,’ echoed Irena doubtfully.

  Picturing the walls and towers and barbed wire of the prison, Poppy decided that ‘nice’ was unlikely to be the right word.

  ‘Good,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll ask him.’ Irena made an effort to sound cheerful again. ‘Now, eat up, before the pancakes go cold.’

  Poppy did as she was told. Then she did her homework, but not at all well because she kept thinking about going inside those high, dark walls.

  That night she woke up suddenly, heart racing, eyes staring into the blackness. She’d been dreaming she was locked in a tiny room at the top of a tall tower attached to a castle, and everyone else was asleep so they couldn’t help her. It was a bit like the story of the Sleeping Beauty, except that there was no knight to come and rescue her.

  Usually, after a bad dream, she’d have gone to her mum’s room, but Mum would always ask her to describe the dream and Poppy didn’t want to tell her this one. So instead, she lay quietly until dawn came soft and friendly through the curtains.

  Chapter Six

  Poppy was in trouble at school. But she didn’t care.

  ‘I’ll have to send you to the headmaster if it goes on like this,’ said Miss Bavani. She twisted a bangle on her arm. ‘I just don’t know what’s got into you.’

  Jude and some of the girls who did know giggled at this, but Poppy just looked sulky.

  ‘I used to be able to rely on you to work properly and bring your homework in on time.’ Miss Bavani sighed regretfully. ‘You’d better see me at the end of the day. You are still in junior school.’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’ What did Poppy care? What difference did school, junior or senior, make to anything that mattered?

  But Irena frowned when she brought home yet another letter from school.

  ‘Oh, Poppy,’ she said sadly.

  ‘Did you ask Dad?’ Poppy frowned. How could her mum pretend that anything was normal? ‘About my visiting him?’ she added fiercely, in case there could be any doubt.

  ‘Your dad was shocked you wanted to see him. He wanted to spare you such a sight. But I said you were old enough to know your mind, and after all, other kids visit. So he agreed that if you truly want to, you may go, even though he doesn’t really think it’s a good idea.’

  ‘But does he want to see me?’ cried out Poppy, before reminding herself that wasn’t the point. The point, as Will kept telling her, was to get him out.

  ‘Of course, my darling!’ Irena shot up and held Poppy in her arms. ‘He loves you!’

  Held tight in her mum’s arms, Poppy shut her eyes for a moment. ‘I would like to see him,’ she whispered into her mum’s warm neck.

  ‘Then we will arrange it, I expect, on Saturday.’

  Will was very pleased when Poppy told him the news.

  ‘Maybe I could stand outside the walls and you could wave,’ he suggested enthusiastically.

  Even Poppy could see that was a pretty unlikely scenario. ‘You really think I could open a window in a prison and stick my head out?’ I don’t see why not.’ Will made a cross face. ‘You’ve got to breathe, haven’t you.’

  ‘There is such a thing as air conditioning,’

  It was a stupid thing to argue about. Both of them knew that. It was just nerves.

  ‘I’ve probably read too many adventure stories,’ admitted Will. ‘One year I was in hospital or at home for nearly six months, so all I did was read or draw.’

  ‘Poor you,’ said Poppy. They were sitting on a wall in the playground and, looking at Will in the bright sunlight, she was struck by how frail he seemed. ‘Are you all right now?’

  ‘Oh, yes. The doctors are keeping an eye on me. And no contact sports.’

  At the other end of the playground a noisy group of boys and girls were playing a kind of touch football. Poppy watched them dashing about and couldn’t help thinking what fun they were having while she sat there with Will, both of them so serious.

  ‘You’d like to be with them, wouldn’t you?’ said Will, following where she was looking.

  ‘Not after how Jude behaved.’ Poppy turned back to Will.

  ‘Do you think she told lots of people? About your dad, I mean.’

  ‘What do I care!’ Poppy tossed her head scornfully. ‘Anyway, it’s none of their business. The main thing is, he’s innocent,’ she added.

  ‘That’s why we’re getting him out,’ Will said soothingly.

  But Poppy was too upset to stay still. She went to the toilets and locked herself in until she’d recovered.

  That afternoon they had double science, but Poppy was so distracted that she got into trouble again.

  ‘You’re just not trying, Poppy. I’m very disappointed in you,’ said Mr O’Donovan. Usually she was one of his favourites.

  ‘Sorry, Miss,’ said Poppy mechanically, and everyone laughed. Which didn’t make Mr O’Donovan any happier.

  It was a relief when the day came to an end and her mum was there to meet her. However, she looked flustered, with two bright spots of colour on her cheeks.

  ‘What is it, Mum?’ Poppy just stopped herself from asking, ‘What’s wrong, now?’ Because that’s how it felt – one bad thing after another.

  They walked a little way before Irena spoke. ‘I’m afraid I’ve done something you won’t like, Poppy.’ What?’

  ‘I know it’s the right thing. Your dad didn’t like it either.’

  ‘What?’ repeated Poppy anxiously.

  ‘I talked to your headmaster about your dad.’

  ‘You’ve told Mr Hannigan!’ Poppy grabbed her mother’s arm.

  ‘They needed to understand the problem. Why your work might suffer.’

  ‘But now everyone will know!’

  ‘No, no. He’ll just tell the teachers who need to know. . .’

  ‘Half the school knows already,’ Poppy interrupted, ‘after Jude brought in that newspaper.’

  ‘She shouldn’t have.’ Now it was her mum’s turn to look upset. ‘Why did she, I wonder? Your best friend. . .’

  ‘Because she’s a horrible stupid ugly pig!’

  ‘Ssh, Poppy.’

  ‘Oh, Mum. Don’t you see, now everyone will think he’s guilty.’

  ‘No, no,’ protested Irena.

  But Poppy knew she was right. With a feeling that she was growing up too fast, she thought, people like to think the worst, it actually gives them pleasure.

  ‘She remembered Jude’s sly and excited expression. Even though Jude had said sorry, Poppy could never forgive her that.

  ‘Well, it’s done,’ said her mum. ‘Mr Hannigan was very understanding.’

  They walked all the way home in silence and halfway back it began to rain, which was some kind of relief because they had to run.

  When they’d dried off and Poppy was about to watch Cheetah Kingdom, her mum suddenly said timidly, ‘I’ve fixed for us to go this Saturday, darling. That is, if you still want to.’

  Poppy gulped. She didn’t have to ask where they were going. ‘OK,’ she mumbled, as
if it was nothing special, and went in to watch television.

  Chapter Seven

  Saturday. It was raining hard. Irena held an umbrella and Poppy pulled her hood up. They had to pass Will’s house to get to the bus stop and they were hurrying along, heads down – prison visitors were only allowed in between certain times – when Poppy heard a shout.

  She looked up and saw Will hanging out of his bedroom window with his thumb stuck high in the air.

  ‘Good luck!’ he yelled, before he was pulled back inside.

  Irena looked up too. ‘So Will knows where you’re going.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’ Poppy tried not to smile.

  ‘What are you looking so cheerful about?’ asked her mum.

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing Dad.’

  ‘He’s looking forward to it too.’ Her mother had been in a state all morning, changing into one dress and then another, trying her hair up and then brushing it down.

  Poppy had figured it didn’t matter what you wore in prison, but when she put on her old jeans her mum had said, ‘Don’t you want to put on something nice for your dad?’ So she changed into a pair of stripy cut-off trousers.

  ‘That’s better,’ her mother said.

  But now they’d be soaking wet when they arrived. Poppy’s sandals were sodden.

  ‘Run!’ shouted Irena suddenly. There was a bus coming along as they approached the bus stop and the driver waited a second or two for them.

  ‘I never knew I could run in these shoes before,’ panted Irena, as they went up to the top of the bus.

  Poppy looked at her two-inch high heels. Usually, her mum wore sensible flat slip-ons, ‘so that I can give what-for to the pedals on the piano’ (the ‘what-for’ sounding funny in her Polish accent).

  It was only when they were settled that Poppy suddenly felt nervous.

  ‘What will it be like, Mum?’ she whispered.

  ‘Well, first of all we go into the visitor’s centre which is brand new and very nice.’ Irena smiled in a thoroughly unconvincing way. Then what?’ asked Poppy, adding, as her mum hesitated, ‘Is the centre behind those great big high walls with the barbed wire on top?’