by Sue Margolis
“The Cakes are scary.”
“Have they ever threatened you?”
“Uh-uh. They mostly pick on kids in their own year.” He takes another bite of his sandwich. “I couldn’t bear it when nobody believed me. Then when you doubted me, it felt like nobody cared about me.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I promise that I will never doubt you again. Not ever. But running away was such a stupid thing to do. Anything could have happened. Have you any idea how worried we’ve been?”
“I’m sorry. But it seemed like it was the only way I could get you to believe me.”
• • •
On the way home—in a taxi—Sam tells me about his time on the tube. “It was pretty boring really. I just kept going to the end of the line and back again.”
“But didn’t anybody speak to you? Didn’t anybody want to know what you were doing?”
“Only this tramp. He got on late one night. He sleeps on the tube most nights because it’s warm. His name was Colin. He stank of poo, and he was a bit drunk. We played I Spy, and he offered me some of his burger. But I said no because I thought it might have come out of a bin. He asked me if I had any money, and I gave him ten pounds so that he could buy some breakfast. Then he said he knew a place where I could stay—with his friends, under the highway—”
“Oh my God.”
“But I said no because I was scared. Then I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was gone, and I realized he’d taken all my money.”
“You mean my money—the money you stole from me.”
“Yes. Sorry. I’ll pay you back. With interest if you want.”
“It’s OK. I think we can forget about the money.”
“So, anyway, then this lady found me and the police came. They were very nice. One of them gave me half of her Kit Kat.”
When we get home Mum gets hold of Sam and practically squeezes the life out of him—just like I did. She only stops because a uniformed male officer is waiting to speak to Sam.
“Good afternoon, young man. Have you any idea the trouble you’ve caused?” He must be six-six. Sam is too petrified to speak. He just about manages to nod. The officer takes Sam into the living room, leaving Constable Lisa and me in the hall to eavesdrop.
“We had helicopters out looking for you. Have you any idea how much that costs?”
The officer starts lecturing Sam about cuts in police funding and penalties for wasting police time.
I’m not sure he’s in a fit state for this, but Constable Lisa says it won’t do him any harm to be read the riot act. “He needs to understand that actions have consequences and that running off isn’t a way to deal with his problems.”
I’m inclined to agree. “You know, I don’t know what we would have done without you. You’ve been amazing.”
“I was only doing my job.”
“I know, but you do it brilliantly. Mum and I are so grateful.”
“I’ll beat your mother at pontoon one of these days.”
“I heard that,” Mum says, trotting out from the kitchen. “You can always try… . Meanwhile you deserve a promotion.”
“Tell my commanding officer,” she says, grinning.
“Don’t think I won’t,” Mum informs her.
Constable Lisa says she’d best be off.
We thank her again and she’s not offended when I say we’re sad, but delighted to see her go.
“That’s how it should be,” she says.
After his lecture from the stern police officer, Sam is subdued and thoughtful. He says he had no idea that he had caused so much trouble, that there were all these policemen out looking for them. “Did you know they sent up helicopters to look for me?”
“I did.”
“Wow. I thought they only did that for murderers.”
Sheepish as he feels, I can tell that this is going to become his badge of honor.
While Sam is in the kitchen demolishing my mother’s meat loaf, I call Ginny and Tanya to tell them the news. I call Mike last.
“Oh, thank God… . So, where did they find him?”
I tell the tale, including the bit about Colin the tramp. I’ve barely got to the end of the story when I hear the sound of breaking crockery coming from the kitchen. “Sorry, Mike. I’ve got to go. Mum appears to be smashing plates.”
“Sure.” Again I hear the disappointment in his voice. He wanted me to tell him he’s forgiven. Instead I cut the conversation short. I couldn’t spare him a few more seconds.
In the kitchen Mum is picking bits of china off the floor. She’s broken a casserole dish. Sam wants to help. Mum is yelling at him to keep away because he has nothing on his feet. I’m yelling at her to mind her fingers. She says she is minding them. I had no idea that a domestic mishap could feel this good.
CHAPTER
twenty-two
Over the weekend the four of us huddle together. Rosie won’t let Sam out of her sight. I am in no doubt that while she was away her bravado gave way to desperate fear. I keep wondering if I made the right decision sending her to Tanya’s. I can only imagine what was going through her mind when she was in bed at night, alone with her thoughts. But Mum says I’m overreacting and that at her age her imagination isn’t sufficiently developed to picture the worst. I hope she’s right.
I’m also worried about Sam. He’s exhausted. I’m not sure he’s up to competing in the chess tournament on Wednesday. But he’s adamant that he wants to go ahead with it, and I don’t feel inclined to argue.
Mrs. S.J. calls to say words cannot express how delighted she is that Sam has been found and that prayers were said for his safe homecoming in school assembly. “Mrs. Gilbert and I made a bad call and it had a disastrous outcome. We can only be thankful that it ended the way it did.” She wonders if Sam and I might feel up to coming into school on Monday so that she and Mrs. Gilbert can offer us their apologies in person. “I will of course be sending a formal letter of apology to Sam’s parents.”
“What about Seb and the Cake twins?”
“I shall be seeing the Cake family as well—including the older brother. You should also know that Dr. Connell and her husband have made a formal complaint against the school—as have Felix’s parents.”
“I see.”
“I’m afraid I can’t say any more until after the governors’ meeting.”
But I know as well as she does that by allowing the Cake twins to terrorize pupils, she has failed in her duty of care and that her job is in jeopardy.
Finally, on Sunday night after the children are in bed, Abby phones in a panic to say she’s just received a message to call home urgently. But the line is hopeless. I could have shouted at her to redial. But I don’t. I’ve never been so grateful for a bad line. Even though Sam is safe, my guilt hasn’t lifted. I can’t face telling my daughter what happened. I know I’m being a coward and that I can’t put off the inevitable, but for now it’s what I do.
The inevitable postponed, I manage, through the loud crunching on the line, to make her understand that everything is fine and that she shouldn’t worry.
“You sure?” she yells.
“Positive. It’s all sorted. I’ll tell you everything when I see you. When are you coming home?”
“What?”
“When. Will. You. Be. Home?”
“Wednesday afternoon.”
I do my best to explain that Wednesday is Sam’s chess tournament and that they might just catch the end of it. I’m not sure if she hears.
The kids have spent the last three nights sleeping in Sam’s bed. On Monday morning when I wake them with the news that their parents will be home in a few days, they start whooping and dancing and jumping on the bed. Usually I would nag them about breaking the springs, but not today. Rosie is counting on her fingers how many months her parents have been away. “January, March, April …”
“You forgot February. It’s been over three months.”
“That’s a really lo
ng time for childrens to be without a mummy and daddy. I think I’ve been very brave.”
“I think you’ve both been brave.”
“And now we get to go to Disneyland. Yay.”
• • •
Rosie sings “If You’re Happy and You Know It” all the way to school. At first Sam moans at her for singing a baby song. Then he joins in. And so do I.
When Sam and I arrive for our appointment with Mrs. S.J., Tanya is waiting to see her, too. Tanya’s sister is getting married in Spain in a few weeks and she wants permission to take Cybil out of school for the wedding.
“Hi, Sam—how are you doing? That’s quite an adventure you had.”
“The police were looking for me with helicopters, you know.”
“I do know.”
“Usually they only do that for murderers and really bad people. It’s a shame I didn’t get to ride in one.”
He wanders off and sits himself down on a chair near Mrs. S.J.’s door. Tanya says that S.J. has got the Cake family and Seb and his parents in with her. “I think we might have a long wait.”
She’s right. It’s half an hour before Mrs. S.J.’s door opens. The head of the senior school appears first. Grim-faced, he marches away, black gown billowing. Then come the Cake parents. She’s pale with shock. He’s grinding his teeth. I get the feeling he wants to punch somebody. The boys follow. Alexander, the psycho, looks so upstanding in his navy school blazer and striped tie. Then I hear his father telling him to wipe that bloody smirk off his face. The twins are giggling. I can’t tell if it’s nervous laughter or defiance. Then Mrs. Cake starts whisper-shouting at Mr. Cake. “I told you that counselor the school provided wasn’t any good. I said the boys were running rings around her. But would you listen? No. Too busy fucking your blond intern. Now look what’s happened. We’ll never get them into another school and it’s all your fault… .”
“Uh-oh—somebody’s been expelled,” Tanya says. “Bloody nut jobs, all three of them.”
There’s no sign of Claudia and Laurence. Tanya reckons that Mrs. S.J. is begging them to withdraw their complaint.
“I wish her luck with that,” I say.
When they finally emerge, Laurence has his arm around Seb’s shoulders. Claudia is a few steps behind, looking gray. She tells her husband to go on ahead. “I need a couple of minutes,” she says, looking in my direction.
Laurence stops to introduce himself and tell me how glad he is that Sam has been found. “It must have been the most terrifying ordeal. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through. But you must understand that Claudia was only trying to protect Seb. I do hope we can put this behind us.”
“I hope so, too.” He’s her husband. Of course he’s going to support her. What else is he going to do? I’m not prepared to offer him an analysis of his wife’s character, especially not with his son standing there. Instead I turn to Seb and ask him how he’s doing.
“Good. Mum and Dad wanted to send me to a new school, but I’ve managed to change their mind. I don’t want to leave my friends. I’ll be fine here now that the Cakes have gone.”
“Good for you. I’m glad. That means you and Sam can still be buddies.”
Laurence tells Seb they should be going. As they make their way to the door, Claudia steps forward. She vaguely looks in Tanya’s direction but doesn’t bother to acknowledge her.
“And hello to you, too,” Tanya mutters.
“I’m so glad everything turned out well,” Claudia says. Her tone is stiff, awkward. She’d rather be anywhere than facing me. But I can’t help admiring her for doing the decent thing. “You must have been so frightened.”
“We were.”
“Of course, Laurence and I blame the school. None of this would have happened if the Cake twins had been dealt with properly. As you probably know, we submitted a complaint. But Laurence persuaded me to drop it. Seb loves it here. The Cakes are gone, and the governors have agreed to make sure more staff is around during recess. And since the school’s current antibullying scheme clearly isn’t working, Mrs. S.J. has agreed to put a new initiative in place. She has asked me to advise her.”
“That’s excellent news. But it’s such a shame that Seb didn’t feel able to come to you when he was being bullied. There he was, getting beaten up, and he couldn’t confide in his own mother.” I’m twisting the knife, hitting her when she’s down, but only a saint could resist.
Claudia looks like she’s been punched. For once she’s lost for words. Meanwhile I’ve hit my stride and decide to carry on: “Isn’t it time you accepted that despite your qualifications you don’t have all the answers—that you’re human like the rest of us? You get things wrong. You mess up.”
“Yes, well, clearly I have some issues that I need to look at… .” Her sentence trails off.
“Apology accepted.”
“It’s unfortunate that Sam became involved. I hope he isn’t too traumatized. If he needs counseling …” She stops herself. “Sorry … force of habit.”
“He’ll be fine. But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.”
“So, how are you doing?”
“Much better than I was.”
“Good … Dad has been telling me how strong you’ve been. If it had been Seb, I think I would have gone to pieces.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I think that when we have to, we find the strength to cope.”
“So”—she clears her throat—“Dad also mentioned that … that it might be serious between the two of you and … I … well, the thing is … I was wondering if perhaps the four of us could maybe go out for dinner. No pressure. I mean, if you’d rather not, I would understand. I just thought it might be a chance for you and me to get to know each other a bit better.”
I’m laughing to myself. What was it she said to me the other day? “Stay away from my father… . This is a battle you will not win.”
“It’s a lovely idea and thank you. The thing is, I’m not sure where your dad and I are at just now. Shall we say we had words?”
“About me?”
“Not entirely. But your name did crop up.”
“I see. Well … let me know.”
“Of course.”
“Good. Right. Well, I’d best be off.”
She offers me a thin, awkward smile and heads for the door. But Tanya gets out of her seat and calls after her.
“Yes?”
“Don’t look down your nose at me,” Tanya says as she approaches Claudia. “OK, while home truths are being handed out, I would just like you to know how much you hurt me and my husband with the gossip you started about us taking drugs. You decided that because we’re in the music business and because I wear my hair in dreadlocks, we had to be on something. And people believed you. No doubt some still do. Well, for your information, we don’t take drugs. Ever. It was wicked and evil, and I hope you are ashamed of yourself.”
“Yes, well, we all make mistakes… . Now, if you’ll excuse me, my husband is waiting for me.” She heads out of the door.
“Did you see that?” Tanya says. “She was on the verge of tears. Wow. I just made Claudia Connell cry.”
“I don’t think it was just you.”
“OK. But I’ve never seen her like that before. She looks like she’s been poleaxed. Her entire world has collapsed around her.”
“Indeed it has.”
“Do you think I was too hard on her? She’s had a lot to contend with.”
“She has. On the other hand, you have to think about what she did to you. There was so much gossip, it was months before you were able to show your face at school.”
“Funny how even now when she’s so vulnerable, she can’t find it in her to actually apologize. I reckon that’s the best either of us is going to get.”
“I’m inclined to agree.”
Mrs. S.J. comes out of her office. “Mrs. Devlin … Sam. Good to see you. Do come in. Mrs. Gilbert is already here.”
As Mrs. S.J. steps back into her office, T
anya looks at the time on her phone. “Sod it,” she mutters. She can’t be bothered to wait any longer to see Mrs. S.J. She’ll take Cybil out of school without asking permission. Rick can call and say she’s sick.
• • •
The following morning, Mike calls to invite me for lunch.
“I’ve got smoked salmon and a bottle of Moët. I thought we should celebrate Sam’s return.”
“How can I refuse?” But that’s not the reason I’m going. I’m going because last night I made a decision. I decided that I’ve held my grudge too long. It’s time to make amends. I’ll say one thing for catastrophe; it has a way of putting life into perspective.
I lean on the breakfast bar, sipping my champagne, while he finishes making smoked salmon sandwiches. “By the way, I bumped into Claudia yesterday. She looks totally done in.”
“I know. This whole thing has knocked her sideways. Like I said, she’s been forced to confront her imperfections as a mother. Imperfection doesn’t sit well with my daughter. Laurence says she’s already been on the phone to some PR company to discuss how to limit the damage if the press gets wind of what’s happened.”
“That sounds more like the Claudia I know. She’s clearly got some fight left in her.”
“Maybe. But I’ve made it clear to her that she needs to stop ‘therapizing’ other people and get some therapy of her own.”
“Do you think she will?”
“Maybe not right away. But I fully intend to keep nagging her—as does Laurence. I still think that in the long run this fall from grace is going to do her a power of good.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He cuts a sandwich into four elegant triangles. “Crusts on or off?” he says.
“On, of course. They’re the best bit.”
He slides a plate across the counter toward me and hands me a napkin. “So … where are we at—you and me? Are we good?”
“When you turned up at that meeting, I felt so betrayed.”
“You’re dodging the question.”
“I know. But hear me out. I need you to understand how much it hurt—particularly as you’d said …”
