‘Billie already has a mum, Barbara. She’s a crap mum, but she’s still her mum and no one’s ever going to take her place.’
Barbara stiffened up. What else could I say? You should never take on a teenage foster-child because you want to be their mother. It isn’t going to happen.
I touched her on the knee.
‘I’m sorry.’
She nodded stiffly. Ah, bless. We all want someone to love, and we all want someone to love us back.
‘Do you still want her to come back to you?’ I asked.
She didn’t hesitate, give her that. ‘I still want her,’ she said. ‘She might not be able to love me, but I can still love her, can’t I?’ And Dan, sitting next to her, suddenly beamed like an angel.
‘That’s my girl,’ he said. ‘Of course we have to keep her.’
Shut me up, someone, will you? I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and what do I know? Unsuitable they may be – well, anyone suitable would have dumped Billie ages ago. I leaned across and gave her a big hug. ‘You can’t ever be her mum, Barbara, but I never said she won’t learn to love you.’
What is it about that girl? How come we all keep on coming back to her, despite everything she does? She’s violent, unpredictable; she’s dangerous. And you just can’t help loving her.
They let her out about an hour later, after a lot of noise on my part. She’d been arrested for actual bodily harm but not charged. She would be, though. The best we could hope for was to get it down to assault. She looked ruined. Red eyes, grey skin. They hadn’t beaten her and they hadn’t starved her or tortured her in any way. What they had done, they’d locked up a vulnerable girl in a bare cell on her own for three hours when she was distressed. Isn’t that enough?
At least we had a nice little welcoming committee there waiting for her when she got out. We all went over to give her a hug, Barbara first. Then I got my turn. I hugged her tight. ‘You’re doing great,’ I whispered in her ear. She wasn’t looking at anyone, no eye contact. Not good. We all filed out. The police were still on her. One of the young coppers smiled at her and opened the door like he was being nice.
‘See you next time, Billie,’ he said.
I was just waiting for someone to step out of line. I pounced.
‘What do you mean by that, saying that to a child? Don’t tell me that’s part of your training, because I know it’s not.’
The copper opened his mouth to bleat.
‘I’ll have your name and number, I think,’ I said, and whipped out me pen. ‘I have a meeting with your chief constable next week. I can bring it up then. Telling a child she has no future …’
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘That’s for your superiors to decide. I’ve known children in worse trouble than our Billie turn things round and come out with more of a future than you’ll ever have. Name?’ I snapped. I took down the poor guy’s name and number and we all marched out, heads in the air, into the car park, like it was them who was in trouble, not Billie. As soon as we got outside, I started to cackle.
‘Did you see his face? Oh my God!’ I chortled. ‘He bit off more than he bargained for there.’
I thought we’d all have a laugh about it – not. Dan gave an embarrassed little smile. Barbara gave the slightest of snorts down her nose, like, We don’t have time for this. Billie was just too far gone to notice, I think.
‘Well,’ I said to her. ‘I told you I’d be here for you.’
Barbara led her to the car, and I followed on behind. Billie dodged down and got straight in. Still no eye contact. Barbara and Dan followed. I paused, and bent down to the window.
‘Barbara. Can I come? Do you mind?’
She looked at me and glanced at Billie in the back, and for a moment I thought she was going to say no. I wouldn’t have blamed her – it was the Barbara and Billie show now. She had the hard job. I just popped in and out. But she nodded and I opened the door and got in the back beside Billie. We drove along in silence for a good while before she spoke.
‘What’s going to happen to me?’ she said.
I gave it to her straight – she may as well start getting used to it.
‘You’re going to get done this time, Billie. That boy you got, his parents are going to press charges.’
‘I went to say sorry,’ she said.
‘Ah, did you? Ah, love. But sorry isn’t enough.’
‘Nothing’s ever enough,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have been caught if I hadn’t gone in.’
‘Yes, you would, Billie. You know you would.’
‘He shopped me, that kid. I went to say sorry and he shopped me.’
‘Do you blame him?’
‘I’ll have him for that …’
‘Billie, stop it! This situation is your doing and you know it.’
There was a long pause. ‘What do you think I’m going to get?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, Billie. A few months, I expect.’
She looked desperate, poor love. I felt so sorry for her. Billie needs helping, not punishing. Don’t get me wrong. I understand that people are going to get put away sometimes. But why does it have to be in a place that makes them worse, not better?
‘I don’t think I can do that,’ she said.
‘We’re going to fight it,’ said Barbara, leaning across from the front. ‘Don’t you worry, Billie. We’re going to fight it.’
‘Too right we are,’ I said. But I knew, and I think Billie knew – they had her this time. We could appeal till we were blue in the face. Because you know what? She deserved it. I didn’t even know in all conscience whether I could argue for letting her off any more.
I looked at her and I thought how hard she’d tried, how hard we’d all tried to get her life together. And I thought, You know what, Billie? I thought you were going to make it, I really did. But now – I just don’t know.
She was going down fast, and I hadn’t got a trick left to stop her.
Chris
‘The good news is,’ said my dad, ‘you don’t have to go back to the Brant.’
‘A bit of a relief all round,’ said my mum. They looked at each other and smiled. Obviously getting me away from the Brant was a major personal triumph for them. ‘The school thinks you’ve been through enough. You can go back in as soon as you’re ready.’
I closed my eyes and sighed. The thought of school – it just made my heart sink. Yes, I know, I got my bollocks stamped at the Brant, but that was bad luck. I’d been liking it up to that point. It was only half of one morning, but at least they treated you like a human being. It wasn’t sir this and miss that. It wasn’t boring me to death. The other kids liked it. So did I.
And, anyway, I’d made friends with Billie. No one was going to dare even touch me now.
‘Billie Trevors has been arrested for ABH – Actual Bodily Harm,’ said my dad. ‘That’s the other good news.’
‘That’s not fair,’ I said.
They stopped smiling and looked curiously at me.
‘Pardon?’
‘I think we should drop the charges,’ I said.
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this,’ muttered my dad.
‘You could have been seriously injured. You know that, don’t you?’ said Mum.
It all seemed pretty straightforward to me. Billie had come in to say she was sorry and she got nobbled by the rozzers because of it. It took some courage to do that. She didn’t have to. And, be fair, if someone pulled down your kecks in public, you’d be cross. I was stupid to jump in, that’s all.
You know what they say in a fight? Go for the biggest bugger first. In our family, that’s Mum. It’s like monkeys – there’s always a dominant one. Dad does a lot of hooting and branch-shaking to make himself look good, but it’s all show. Mum doesn’t need to do that. It’s her overweening mental and emotional superiority that gives her the edge – b
ut that doesn’t mean to say she doesn’t have a weak spot.
‘They’re going to lock her up if we let them arrest her,’ I said. ‘The Secure Unit. Prison for kids. And she came to apologize! What’s the point of locking her up if she’s already reformed?’
Dad glared at me furiously. That stuff about reforming people – he can’t bear it. It’s a big point of issue between her and him. She believes that practically anyone, even the most hardened mass-murderer, can be made into a kind and useful member of society given the right circumstances, whereas my dad, he just believes in evil bastards.
‘The longer they lock her away, the better,’ he snapped. Tactics, he just don’t get it.
‘Hang on, hang on – he has a point there. She did come in especially to apologize, even though it got her caught,’ said my mum.
And that was it. They started snorting and glaring at each other. Then the pant-hooting started and they rushed upstairs to ‘talk it over’. Shortly after, suppressed shouting could be heard from an upstairs bedroom.
I had my hopes, but they were soon dashed. They came down together a bit later to announce their decision. I could tell they’d come to the wrong one by the way they were glancing conspiratorially at each other and touching one another on the arms.
‘It’s gone too far, Chris,’ Mum said. ‘You’re damaging your chances at school and now you’re even willing to risk damaging your chances of being a father. Quite apart,’ she added sternly, with a glance at my squirming father, ‘from causing strains inside the family.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I got kicked in the balls,’ I said. ‘It happens.’
‘This is the deal,’ Mum went on. ‘We’ll drop the charges …’ Dad couldn’t help himself and started rolling his eyes and snorting like a horse. Mum glared him into silence. ‘… We agree to drop the charges so long as you promise – promise! – on your word of honour! – to go back to school and get on with your work. Properly.’
‘We want your word,’ emphasized my dad. ‘Properly,’ he added, just in case there was any doubt.
‘Are you seriously telling me,’ I said, ‘that unless I agree to your blackmail, you’ll go straight ahead and get Billie locked up? Effectively ruin what chances she has of getting her life back on track?’ I asked them incredulously.
Mum flinched. ‘It’s not like that,’ she began.
‘Then how is it?’
No reply.
‘How do you justify that? Putting someone’s whole future at risk for your own personal whim?’ I asked her.
It was one of the few times I can remember Mum losing her rag.
‘I justify it,’ she shouted, ‘on the grounds that my son is behaving like a two-year-old child who won’t do anything unless he gets his own way. I justify it on the grounds that I can’t think of any other way of making you knuckle down and get on with your school work and make a future for yourself. Now, Chris – do we have a deal?’
‘You’re holding her whole future to ransom!’
‘Do. We. Have. A. Deal?’ she demanded through gritted teeth.
I turned my back and stamped upstairs without bothering to answer. There was silence downstairs for a while, then they came upstairs and went into the bedroom. See? Like monkeys. He gets his reward for being good. Or maybe it’s her who gets rewarded. I don’t want to know.
School. Even worse – work. Billie, Billie – this is asking a lot. I was going to have to think about this one.
The solution, when it came to me, was easy. As is so often the case, it involved the application of a simple lie. I went and told them that, yes, on reflection, I agreed to their terms.
And they believed me.
Rob
After Philip was finished, I went upstairs and lay on my bed for a bit. Davey poked his head round the door to see how I was, but I wasn’t ready for him.
‘Go away,’ I said.
‘No, Rob …’ he began.
‘Get lost or I’ll shout at you and then he’ll come back upstairs and do me again. OK?’
‘Rob …’
‘Go on, get lost,’ I said.
‘I just wanted to say, Mum was at the school gates today. She was asking about you.’
I sat up. ‘Did you tell him?’
‘No, course I didn’t. She wants to see you tomorrow.’
‘Right. Don’t say a word, right?’
‘Right.’
‘Or I’ll bat yer head in!’ I hissed after him, just so he knew how cross I was. I got my phone and had a check.
I could have killed myself. Mum had texted me twice to let me know she’d be at the school gates, but I’d left the phone at home so I never knew. I never use it. I needed to get back to her right now, but I had no credit. I went to Davey, but of course he had no credit, either.
‘I have to let her know I’ll be there,’ I said.
‘She knows you’ll be there.’
‘Does she know I’m out of school?’
‘Yeah … But she said she’ll definitely be there. She said.’
‘I have to text her. Go on, go down and see if Philip’ll give you some credit. He will.’
‘I don’t want to, Rob.’
‘Go on. I’d do it for you.’
He started shuffling and whining then, because he knew it was true. ‘He won’t give it me.’
‘You can try. What’s up with you? He never hits you.’
He just pulled a face at me.
‘What then?’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Go on …’
So he went, but it didn’t do any good. I heard Philip shouting at him and telling him to go to his room. There were some bangs. Philip chucks things around when he’s taking it out on Davey, but he never hits him. Davey came back up trying not to cry.
‘You all right? Sorry, I just wanted to be able to tell Mum I’d be there,’ I said.
‘I’m all right, I’m all right …’
‘Listen, Davey, you won’t tell Mum, will you? About Philip and me. I don’t want her worrying about that.’
Davey nodded his head and went back to his room. I shouldn’t have sent him down. Philip hates it when he sides with me. It’s not like what I have to put up with, though, is it? He can do that for me, at least.
The next day I was in a right state, waiting. I didn’t have anywhere to go so I had to stay at home with Philip keeping an eye on me. The important thing was to make sure he never found out she’d be waiting for us. If he knew that, he’d be there – you could bet your life on it.
The next most important thing was to make sure I got there. Like I said, Philip’s always at home. He stays in all day sometimes. What if I never made it? What would she think then? Like I didn’t care, like I didn’t want to see her, like I blamed her …
I was fretting about it all day, but I struck lucky. He had a job interview in the afternoon. He’s a painter and decorator, Philip – proper stuff. He can do posh papers, £40, £50 a roll, paint finishes and everything. Our house, it’s not big and the furniture’s rubbish, but the decoration’s great. People always talk about it. Trouble is he gets arguing with the boss or gets drunk and then he gets sacked so he doesn’t keep his jobs for long.
‘I’ll need a job bringing up you and Davey, now that cow’s left me in the lurch,’ he told me.
We had lunch together, he made us omelettes, and then he went out.
‘Don’t forget – you’re grounded,’ he told me before he went. ‘If I find you’ve been out that door, you’re for it.’
I waited till he was well off down the road before I sneaked out the back way so the neighbours wouldn’t see me. It was about two by then. I had another hour and a half.
I was crapping myself, but not about Philip. What if she wasn’t there? What if she thought she hadn’t heard from me so she didn’t bother? That sort of thing. What if Philip came back early and f
ound me not there and came round to school to get me? Then he’d see Mum – he’d get his hands on her. Maybe I shouldn’t turn up at all in case Philip got wind of it.
But of course I did turn up. And so did she.
We had a big hug, me and her and Davey, right out in front of the gates. I didn’t care. I just stood there soaking her up, the smell of her, the feel of her arms round me. I know that might sound cheesy, but that’s how it is with me and my mum.
We went and had a drink in a café. We weren’t there long before Mum wanted to talk to me on my own.
‘Go home, go to him, Davey,’ she said. ‘You and me had some time to usselves yesterday. I need to talk to Robbie now.’
Davey pulled a face, but he’s fair; he understood.
‘I’ll see you again very, very soon,’ she said. ‘Promise.’
He didn’t like it, but he did as she said. She went out with him to say goodbye in private. She always gives you some time, my mum.
When she came back, she said, ‘Come on, let’s get out. I need a ciggie.’
She linked arms with me and we walked around till we found a bench, then we sat down. She lit her fag, took a long drag, leaned back and said, ‘So, what’s going on with you, Robbie?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean. Look at you. You’re a mess. You’ve been fighting again, haven’t you? And you’ve been chucked out of school. How are you going to be looking out for your little brother with all this going on? You’re not even at the same school as him any more.’
‘School,’ I told her. ‘I’ve had enough of school. I’m always getting picked on and then getting the blame for it.’
Mum shook her head. ‘You’re always getting into fights, Robbie. I don’t understand it. Where’d you get it from?’
I looked at her sideways. I could have told her … but I didn’t. She has enough on her plate without me loading my troubles on her too.
I shrugged and smiled, and my mum, she smiled back.
‘You’re a right mess,’ she laughed. ‘Tell me, then. School, eh?’
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