One Moment

by Linda Green

  ‘Never played proper rugby before, have you?’ says Harrison. ‘That’s because you went to a school for thickos, not a prep school like us.’

  ‘I’ve played tag rugby.’

  ‘That’s for girls. You don’t get hurt in tag rugby.’

  I try not to show him that this comment scares me.

  ‘Let’s go and line up, Finn,’ says Mustafa. He is even smaller than me, so he must be really scared about proper rugby too. I follow him outside. It is just starting to rain. Mr Makin is standing there in his rugby kit with a ball under his arm.

  ‘Look lively, lads,’ he says. ‘You’re about to play the finest sport on earth.’

  He blows his whistle and all the boys line up, before he marches us off to the sports field. When we get there, the first thing I notice is how muddy it is. I wish I could wear my gardening gloves and my waterproof dungarees that Mum got me when I was nine, but which still fit.

  I am wearing boots with studs in that Dad had to buy specially and they rub my ankle bones and make me walk weirdly. I would have been happier with a pair of wellies, but they weren’t on the sports kit list.

  Mr Makin blows his whistle and says we are going to learn how to tackle safely. He gets two boys to come out and demonstrate. By the end of it, they are both covered with mud. I don’t see what is safe about falling into a big patch of mud without waterproof clothing on.

  He tells us to go away and practise with our partner. Me and Mustafa look at each other and shrug. He has the ball, so he starts to run away very slowly. I go up to him and put my hands on his waist and he drops the ball, which I then pick up.

  ‘Look at Gay Lord. He doesn’t want to get his hair messed up,’ says Harrison, loud enough for me and most of the other boys to hear, but not Mr Makin. It doesn’t matter that I’ve had my hair cut. They are still going to tease me about it anyway.

  ‘Or get a ladder in his tights,’ says Toby.

  The other boys laugh. We swap over. I run with the ball and Mustafa chases me half-heartedly. As soon as he gets to me and touches my waist, I just hand him the ball.

  I hear Mr Makin’s whistle blow. ‘Rook-Carter and Ali, you are an embarrassment to the game of rugby,’ shouts Mr Makin. ‘Carry on like that and you can go and join Miss Hambleton’s netball practice.’

  The other boys howl with laughter. ‘Right,’ continues Mr Makin, ‘Rook-Carter, you can work with Cuthbertson, Ali, you go with Johnson. Perhaps that will buck your ideas up a bit.’

  I stare at Harrison, who has a smug grin on his face. Toby is also laughing as Mustafa starts to walk over to him. What I really want to do is to run away and never come back. Instead, I go over to where Harrison is standing.

  ‘I bet you wish you never grassed on me now,’ he says. ‘This is payback time.’

  The sound of the other boys laughing almost drowns out the rain. Harrison throws the ball hard into my face, so that it stings.

  ‘Ladies first,’ he says.

  I start to run away. I want to run all the way home. To never come back to this stupid school. I cannot run fast enough, though. I can hear Harrison as he comes up behind me. I know he is going to get to me any second. I feel a bit sick inside. A second later I feel his hands grab the top of my legs and pull them away from me. I put my hands out to save myself, but it is too late. I fall flat in the mud. I feel the full weight of Harrison as he lands on top of me with a grunt. His knee comes up and connects with my balls. For a moment, I think that I am going to be sick. I am struggling to breathe. I can’t work out whether my eyes are shut, or it is just the darkness of the mud. What I do know is that I don’t want to be down here, on the ground. I try to get up but the weight stops me. I am shaking and my back is wet. It is blood. I know it is blood. I can feel it seeping onto my back. It will be there when I stand up. Her blood all over me.

  I start screaming. I am not sure if they are still here or they have gone now, but I cannot help it. The screams keep coming. I am screaming for her. Screaming ‘Mummy,’ over and over and over again. The weight lifts. I do not dare get up though, because if I do, I will see her lying there. I will see the carrier bag and the knife and the sausages on the floor. I would rather lie here forever covered in her blood than see that again.

  Someone is pulling my arms. Hauling me up off the floor. I keep my eyes tightly shut and cling on to them. It must be Kaz. I try to wrap my arms round her, but then I realise it is not Kaz. It is a man’s voice calling my name. I open my eyes a fraction, just enough so that I can see who it is. The first thing I see is Mr Makin’s whistle, swinging in front of my eyes.

  *

  Mr Makin asks Mustafa to come back to the changing rooms with us. I think he is scared I might start screaming again, and he doesn’t know what to do if I do.

  ‘Do you need a doctor, Finn?’ he asks.

  I am not sure if he means a doctor who gives you medicine or the sort of doctor Dad took me to see after it happened, one who wants you to talk about how you feel. Whichever it is, I don’t want to see one.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘I just want to wash the mud off my face.’

  He tells Mustafa to stay in the changing rooms with me. For us to wait here until he comes back with the other boys. When he goes, I look at Mustafa. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I just walk slowly into the toilets with my head down.

  *

  They are still laughing at me when they come back into the changing rooms. Mustafa and I have got changed back into our uniforms and are sitting on the benches.

  ‘Finnona wants her mummy,’ says Harrison. ‘Finnona’s been crying for her mummy.’

  ‘Leave him alone,’ says Mustafa.

  ‘Yeah? What you gonna do about it? Get your family to make a bomb to blow us all up? That’s what your lot do, isn’t it?’

  I don’t even say anything to stick up for Mustafa, because I still cannot speak. I don’t know what happened. Why it all came back like that. All the stuff that I have tried to force out of my head for so long. The stuff I only see or hear in nightmares. But it felt like I was back there. Like it was happening all over again.

  I sit down and tie up the laces on my school shoes.

  ‘Never knew you were such a mummy’s girl,’ says Harrison. ‘Does she still read you bedtime stories? Does she tuck you in bed at night? Give you a goodnight kiss?’

  They are all laughing. Every one of them except Mustafa. I pick up my school bag, leaving my muddy PE kit behind, and walk out of the changing room. Mr Makin is in his little office. The door is open, but I don’t see him as I creep past. The sports block is separate from the rest of the school, so I don’t have to sneak past anyone else. I carry on walking, past the main entrance and out of the gates. As soon as I get to the other side, I start running. I may not be very fast on a rugby pitch, but it turns out I am much faster when I am running away from school. I don’t know if they are going to come after me, but I am not going to take that chance. I keep running until I get to the bus stop. I have no idea what times the buses are, but I am lucky. I only have to wait two or three minutes before one comes along. I get on, still trying to get my breath back, and show my pass. I think for a second the driver is going to say something. Ask if I’m bunking off. Shut the doors and drive me straight back to school. He doesn’t though. He just nods and pulls away from the bus stop.

  I sit in the corner at the back of the bus, like I have done something naughty, and stare out of the window. I know exactly where I am going. The last place I was happy. The place I wish I was every day when I am at school.

  It feels strange going past our house and not getting off. I do not want to be there, though. I want to be at the place I feel closest to her. It is quite a long walk from the bus stop. Down the main road and then cutting off into the woods. It looks different from the last time I was here. There are no bluebells like there were back in May. Some o
f the leaves are starting to turn yellow and orange. And there is no Mum singing or dancing or helping collect things for my nature tray. Just the emptiness in the air where her breath used to be.

  I start to worry I will not be able to find it. That I will be walking around for hours and every bit of the woods will look the same. But even though I am coming from the opposite direction, I recognise it as soon as I get there. The spot where we camped. Our tent isn’t there any more, of course. Dad came to get it and the rest of our stuff a few days after, while the police family liaison officer lady looked after me. I had to tell him where it was and draw a map for him. I didn’t want to see it when he brought it back. I didn’t want to look at any of our stuff. All I wanted was the one thing he couldn’t bring back to me. Mum.

  The ground is still wet, but I don’t care; I want to get as close as possible to where she was. I sit down and shuffle around until I think I am in the exact spot where we sat while she cooked breakfast. I shut my eyes and try to imagine the smell of our sausages, try to remember what she was wearing on the last day I saw her, because for some reason she changes in my head every time I try to picture her.

  I feel close to her here. Dad has offered to take me to visit her grave, but I do not want to be where she is dead. I want to be where I was with her when she was alive. That is the her I want to remember.

  They will be looking for me now, I know that. I wonder if Dad will report me as missing to the police again. I hope not. I do not want to be chased or arrested. I do not want to feel scared. I came here to try to stop feeling scared. I take my mobile phone out of my school bag. I always have it on silent when I am in school. There are seven missed calls; all from Dad. They must have phoned him at work. He has texted me too. His message says: ‘Finn, please let me know you are safe. Tell me where you are and I’ll come and pick you up. You are not in trouble.’

  I hold the phone in my hand while I try to decide what to do. I don’t want to go back to school but I don’t want the police coming looking for me either. I don’t want to be on the news again.

  I press to return the call. Dad answers straight away.

  ‘Finn, are you OK?’

  ‘Are the police looking for me?’

  ‘No. I haven’t called them yet. I’ve only just got home and I wanted to check here first.’

  ‘Will I have to go back to school?’

  ‘No. I’ll bring you straight home. I promise. Where are you?’

  ‘Where me and Mum had our tent.’

  There is a sound on Dad’s end of the phone. I think he might be crying. It is a moment before he says anything.

  ‘Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come and get you now,’ he says.

  It’s not that long before he arrives. He must have come in the car and then run from the road because he is out of breath. He sinks down onto his knees and hugs me. He is definitely crying now because his tears are making my forehead wet.

  ‘I was so worried,’ he says. ‘School said you’d been screaming and crying out for Mum.’

  ‘Harrison tackled me in rugby and he fell on top of me. I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was in the petrol station again.’

  Dad screws his eyes up tight and strokes my hair.

  ‘And then he was teasing me in the changing rooms; calling me a girl and saying Mum still kissed me goodnight.’

  ‘Did you tell a teacher?’

  ‘No, because they wouldn’t listen to me. And Mr Makin hates me anyway because I don’t like rugby.’

  I am crying now too. I remember crying like this when I was on my way here with Mum when she told me I wouldn’t be able to live with her any more. I have never heard Dad do noisy crying like this though. He cried at the police station, but it was quiet crying. I don’t think he even did noisy crying at the funeral, although maybe I just couldn’t hear him because I was crying so much. I hated the funeral because it was sad, and in a church and everyone wore black, apart from Rachel who came in purple, and Mum wouldn’t have liked it one little bit. It was the wrong kind of funeral for Mum. They didn’t even play the song about the dog days being over and I told Dad that was her favourite.

  ‘I’m sorry, Finn,’ says Dad eventually.

  ‘What for?’ There are lots of things he could be sorry about and I’m not sure which one he means.

  ‘For calling the police. I was so worried about you that I messed it all up. When I went home after your mum phoned and found the note on the floor, I felt so stupid. I rang the police straight away, but they couldn’t call off the search without seeing you for themselves. I know it’s my fault and I understand that you’re still mad at me for that. I’m mad at myself too. I always will be.’

  We cry some more, and I wipe the snot from my nose. ‘I should have kept quiet,’ I say. ‘If I’d stopped crying and screaming at the petrol station and kept quiet, the robber wouldn’t have kicked Mum and I wouldn’t have kicked him back and none of it would have happened.’

  Dad is shaking his head. ‘It’s not your fault. You must never think it’s your fault. You were scared. You were incredibly brave. Remember how I cried when you told the police lady you’d kicked the robber? It was because I was so proud of you.’

  ‘But I made him kill her.’

  ‘You didn’t, Finn. He killed her, it’s his fault, not yours. That’s why he’s going to go to prison.’

  ‘I thought you said he’s in prison already?’

  ‘He is, but after the trial he’ll be sent there for good.’

  ‘I wish I could kick him again,’ I say. Dad does a little laugh in among the crying.

  ‘She’d be so proud of you, Finn. She loved you so much.’

  ‘Did you love her?’ I ask. ‘Because you never say so.’

  Dad puts his head down and does some more crying.

  ‘I never stopped loving her,’ he says. ‘Not even for a minute.’

  ‘Not even when you were arguing?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I know I wasn’t very good at showing it. Sometimes, you can love someone but find it really difficult to live with them.’

  ‘Because she liked doing the crazy chicken dance and you didn’t know how to do it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ says Dad. ‘Exactly that.’

  AFTER 16

  16

  Kaz

  ‘Finn’s safe. I’ve got him. We’re on our way home.’ I close my eyes and let go of a long, deep breath as I read the text from Martin. He’d called me earlier to tell me Finn had run away from school. Wanted me to know, in case he got in touch or headed for my house. I put down the scouring pad I’m holding and take off my Marigolds. I’ve been cleaning place top to bottom ever since. Only thing I could think of to try to stop me fretting about him. Surprised I didn’t take the steel off the sink, I scrubbed it that hard.

  I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I can’t bear to think of him going back to that school. Not even for a day. Hannah wouldn’t have let it happen, I know that much. She laid down her life for that boy. Like I was going to lay down mine for Terry. It would break her heart to see him suffering like this. I need to pay her back for saving my life too. I need to find some answers.

  I pick up my bag and leave the house. I head straight to the library. They have books and computers and librarians. They have answers.

  *

  When I turn up at Finn’s house later, Martin opens the door looking almost as bad as he did that night.

  ‘He’s in bed,’ he says. ‘He’s not asleep, though. Go up. He says he wants to see you.’

  I put my bag down in the hall and go upstairs. The curtains are drawn in Finn’s room but there is still enough daylight to see him clearly. His face is very pale, paler even than usual, or maybe it’s just that his shorter hair makes it seem that way.

  I sit down on the bed and lean over to give him a hug.

  ‘I�
�m so glad you’re OK,’ I say. ‘You scared life out of me.’

  ‘I had to go. I couldn’t stay there a moment longer. I couldn’t breathe, Kaz. It was like it was all happening again.’

  ‘I know, love,’ I say, stroking his arm. ‘Your dad told me everything.’

  ‘Do you still think about what happened that night?’ Finn asks.

  I nod. ‘Pretty much every day. I have nightmares about it sometimes, too.’

  ‘So do I,’ says Finn, brushing away his tears. ‘I have this nightmare where when I stand up, I’ve got her blood all over me and I look down and it’s even on my hands.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ I say. ‘You were so brave. The police lady said that afterwards, didn’t she?’

  Finn nods. ‘Dad says the trial’s next month. You’ll be there too, won’t you?’

  ‘Yep. And I know we’re not really allowed to talk about what happened until then, but I want you to know I shall tell them exactly how brave you were. Because I was there. And you were a damn sight braver than me. I know that much.’

  We both cry for a bit.

  ‘I’m so glad you were there,’ says Finn. ‘I wouldn’t have had anyone to look after me otherwise.’

  ‘I know,’ I reply, ‘me too.’

  *

  He falls asleep in my arms, eventually. I creep out of the room and go back downstairs. Martin is in the kitchen, sitting staring into a mug of coffee. I sit down opposite him.

  ‘You know Hannah saved Finn’s life, that night; what you don’t know, is that she saved mine too.’

  He looks up at me, frowning.

  ‘You’ve never asked why I was there,’ I say.