by Moira Murphy
Lucy smiled sweetly.
“Mam,” said Josh, indignantly, “they want to experiment on us at school. They want us to take fish oils, innit. I’m not taking them, it’s not like I’m a bleedin’ seal, is it?”
My mother squinted her eyes, peered at me then asked accusingly, “Have you been drinking, Joanne?”
Lucy said, “You definitely look a bit spaced out, Mam.”
I just smiled as I turned to check out my interesting profile in the mantelpiece mirror.
18
THE HERO FROM ZERO
I was in the kitchen draining pasta and singing the ‘My Guy’ song when the front door was flung open and Josh’s school bag, with the aid of a kick, came flying through it. Josh followed, punching the bag affectionately as it fell to the floor. The light fitting swung precariously and the phone was knocked off its hook. School was out!
There was something about the way that bag came into the house that spoke volumes. Sometimes, quite often actually, it was kicked along the floor in the manner of a petulant footballer taking his frustration out on the ball after scoring an own goal. This meant Josh had been in trouble and was about to protest his innocence, a protestation which was liable to continue for much of the night or until either me or Lucy said, OKAY-ENOUGH! But more often than not the bag was dragged along behind him, like a dead body, and that meant he was fed-up, he’d had a horrible day, he hated school, school was the pits, he had loads of homework, nobody’s life was worse than his and if there was something for tea with Broccoli in it he would just kill himself – NOW. But today, the bag came flying through the air like a chicken to its roosting coop.
“Mam, school was mint today! Police were trawling the place with sniffer dogs searching for deadly weapons and stolen goods while a copper-chopper was circling the grounds looking for the robber. Honestly Mam, you had to be there, it was SICK!”
Huh! I turned from the sink. This was Willow Grove Comp not down town L.A.
Lucy, following behind him, rolled her eyes and said, “O.M.G! Get-me-out-of-here! I have just about had enough of small boys with small minds making out Craig Bolton is the next hero from zero, when in actual fact he is just the same little nerd he has always been.” Then she snapped a banana from the bunch, went into the living room, flopped into a chair and switched on Home and Away.
Josh, too excited to give in to the urge to wrestle Lucy to ground, she having had the temerity to call Craig Bolton a nerd, pulled out the only kitchen chair which still had four legs, straddled the back of it, grabbed an apple and between mouthfuls said the whole thing had kicked off because Craig Bolton had decided to bunk-off from doing PE.
“There are two things Craig always bunks off from, Mam,” said Josh, as if it’s Craig’s prerogative to do exactly as he pleases, “one is Citizenship, because Craig says that’s just for the gays, and the other is PE.”
“Sorry. Josh, but I won’t have you using the word gay in that derogatory fashion.”
“Huh! It’s Julian and Adrian, Mam! They are ‘the gays’. They call themselves ‘the gays’.”
“Oh,” I said, not sure what my response should be.
“Anyway, Craig, right, says PE is for tossers and if the teachers think they can get him to prance around like a fairy doing PE, then they have another think coming, innit. So, he hid in the toilet block until the coast was clear enough for him to sneak out to have a fag behind the science pre-fab.”
“I hope you don’t think that is acceptable behaviour, Josh, because it isn’t.”
“Yeah, yeah, anyway, as Craig peaked out of the door to check the corridor for teachers he clocked the new school secretary, Miss Smith coming out of her office with her arms piled high with papers. She locked the office door behind her but she didn’t bother to take the key out of the lock. So when Miss Smith was out of sight, Craig decided he wouldn’t bother having a fag after all and instead he would let himself into Miss Smith’s office and photocopy his bare arse, which was something he had always wanted to do, innit.”
“Re-phrase that please, Josh.”
“Yeah, yeah, wha’ever, anyway, Craig, right, had just got sat on the photocopier, with his pants down, when some bloke with tights over his head and a gun from the Pound Shop, burst in and demanded Craig tell him where the dinner money was kept. Craig recognised the gun straight away because his kid brother had one exactly like it. Craig pointed to Miss Smith’s desk and while the robber was rifling the drawers, Craig jumped off the photocopier and stumbled out into the corridor, locking the door behind him and locking the robber in.
Just then old Humphreys, the geography teacher, came round the corner and demanded to know what Bolton was doing outside the secretary’s office with his pants round his ankles. Before Craig could tell him what had happened, old Humphreys grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him along the corridor saying Mr Clayton would know how to deal with the likes of him. Craig was trying to pull his pants up and trying to tell old Humphreys about the robber in Miss Smith’s office, but old Humphreys wasn’t having any of it. He said the school had its reputation to think of and it could do without perverted little bastards hiding in corridors waiting to expose themselves. And he went on and on about the effect taking drugs and sniffing glue had on developing brains, although he didn’t think that applied to Craig Bolton as he doubted Craig had any brains to develop.”
“Er, stop right there, Josh.” I said, “There is no way Mr Humphreys would have used language like that!”
“Honest, Mam, it’s the truth. You can ask Craig if you don’t believe me, innit!” Josh protested, secure in the knowledge that that scenario would never happen.
“Anyway, Mam, if you will stop interrupting! Old Humphreys right, told Mr Clayton that not only had Craig been hallucinating about robbers, probably as a result of sniffing glue, but he had also been found in the corridor with his pants down, waiting to expose himself to poor Miss Smith.
“Mr Clayton was shocked. He said it didn’t bear thinking about that a pupil in his school would be capable of such behaviour, although nothing would surprise him when it came to Craig Bolton. He said Bolton was, and always had been, a menace and a troublemaker and a disgrace to the good name of the school and drug taking and glue sniffing and exposing himself in a school corridor, would not be tolerated under any circumstances.
“Craig was still trying to tell them about the robber, but they told him to zip up both his trousers and his mouth. They said he would gain nothing by inventing ridiculous stories and the sooner he was off school premises the better. Then Clayton rang Craig’s mother and asked her to collect Craig as he was to be suspended indefinitely. He told her that not only had her son been using hallucinogenic drugs and as a result had been making up silly stories, but by intending to expose himself to a vulnerable young woman, he also had the makings of a pervert.
Craig said his mother, who was as hard as anything and had AC/DC tattoos up her arms and across her back and could deck a bloke with one punch when she’d had a skin-full, went ballistic at the mention of drugs and pervs and he heard her screeching down the phone. ‘HE’S WHAT!!! WAIT TILL I GET MY HANDS ON HIM, I’LL SWING FOR THE LITTLE BUGGER.’”
I tutted, and Josh said, “I’m just telling you what Craig’s mam said, innit. Anyway, Craig, right, told Mr Clayton that his mother would kill him if she thought he was taking drugs and had become a perv and Mr Clayton said better that than he should die from taking drugs while on school premises. After all, the school had its reputation to think of.
“Then was an almighty scream from the other end of the corridor. Mr Clayton and old Humphreys looked at each other before rushing out of Clayton’s office. They were followed by Craig, who, on his way out, had grabbed some chocolate hobnobs off a plate on Clayton’s desk and was stuffing them into his pockets.
“The scream was from Miss Smith who had unl
ocked her office door and had been knocked for six by the robber running out of it. A couple of teachers were running down the corridor to get to Miss Smith who was yelling that the man had threatened her with a sawn off shotgun. Then the teachers started yelling for someone to get first-aiders and to ring the police.
“Just as they were about to leg it down the corridor, Clayton and old Humphreys were stopped dead in their tracks by Craig’s mother, who had come bursting in through the side doors. Craig said his mother had her blue hairy jumper thing on and she looked like Sully out of Monsters Inc, only scarier. And he heard Clayton say through his teeth, ‘Christ Almighty, Richard! The proverbial brick shithouse or what?’
“And old Humphreys said through his teeth, ‘You’re not wrong there, Keith.’
“Then, because they now knew Craig had been telling the truth and there had been a robber locked in Miss Smith’s office, they both started grinning like Cheshire Cats, and as his mother got closer, Craig said he could hear a sort of humming noise coming from the back of Mr Clayton’s throat.
“Mr Clayton shook Craig’s mother’s hand and thanked her for coming so quickly but he was really looking down the corridor watching everything kicking off. Craig said he nearly puked because Clayton put his arm around his shoulders and said it was obvious there had been some misunderstanding and Craig deserved a pat on the back for his bravery. He said Craig was a credit to the school and he wished all the boys had Craig’s bravery and integrity. Craig said Clayton was licking up to him like mad, because he knew if they had listened to him in the first place, the robber could have been caught and Craig said he would tell that to the police, if they asked him.
“Mr Clayton, who was still grinning like an idiot, said, ‘Now, now, Craig, let’s not be too hasty about what we should or should not be telling the police.’
“He told Craig’s mother that he would leave them in the capable hands of Mr Humphreys, as armed police, newspaper reporters and medics for Miss Smith were now invading the school. Before he went he said Craig and his mother were to avail themselves of the coffee machine and the plate of chocolate Hobnobs which they would find in his office. Then Craig heard Clayton whisper to old Humphreys, ‘Keep a close eye on those two while they’re in my office, would you, Richard?’ And old Humphreys said, ‘You can rely on me, Keith.’
“Craig’s mother told old Humphreys that it would take more than a gob full of Hobnobs to keep her quiet. She said she intended to sue the person in charge of education as soon as she finds out who it is and she will stick out for every penny she can get her hands on because nobody calls her Craig a druggie and a perv and gets away with it. And she hopes their Barry doesn’t find out, because God knows what he’d do about it. He was banged up for bare-knuckle boxing but was due out shortly. Well at least their Barry had said it was bare-knuckle boxing and she didn’t fancy anybody’s chances who said it wasn’t.
“Craig said old Humphreys was brickin’ it and he said, ‘Now, Mrs Bolton. The only reference to drugs had been to find out if Craig had been taking any medication which might cause an allergic reaction to any medication he may need as a result of his ordeal.’
“Craig’s mother said, ‘BOLLOCKS!’
“So what do you think about that then, Mam? Awesome innit?”
“Hmmmm,” was all I could manage.
“Anyway Mam, I think I’ll nip round to Jack’s to tell him about Craig, he wasn’t in school today, he was having grommets put in his ears.”
“Well ask his mam’s permission first, he might not be up to the excitement; think of his ears and keep your voice down.”
While I was digesting Josh’s story, music signalling the end of Home and Away wafted into the kitchen bringing Lucy with it.
“Please tell me the Craig Bolton saga has finished,” she said, “I couldn’t stand that for another minute! Honest Mam, talk about pathetic. The boys were carrying Craig Bolton around on their shoulders chanting, Ree-spect! Ree-spect! I mean, how juvenile! Anyway, Symphony Evans was back at school today because her mother said it would cost too much to take the case of Symphony refusing to wear school uniform to the European Court of Human Rights. And Symphony’s dad said if she came back to school without any fuss, he would fork out the thirty pounds it would cost for her to have acrylics done. And because the girls were soh not interested in the carry-on over stupid Craig Bolton they all gathered around Symphony to say how edgy and fabulous the acrylics were and how dead jealous they were. Well everyone except me and Chloe that is. Symphony said it had taken her ages to choose the colours because she couldn’t decide if she wanted each finger different or what. But eventually she decided to have alternating baby pink and frosted silver with crystal swirls embedded in them. Well everybody thought they were swirls, but Symphony said they were actually S’s, as that’s her initial. Honest Mam, me and Chloe nearly gagged, they were soh pretentious! I said if I had thirty pounds I’d adopt a gorilla online. Chloe said she’d go for a snow leopard.”
The Craig Bolton story made Headlines in the following day’s Northern News:
SCHOOLBOY COMMENDED FOR BRAVERY
Fourteen-year-old Craig Bolton, of Willow Grove Comprehensive, was declared a hero yesterday after attempting to foil a masked raider who had broken into the school. Craig had been in the secretary’s office photocopying his anatomy project when a masked man broke into the office demanding money. Craig said the man was brandishing a weapon which he recognised as a gun. Craig diverted the robber’s attention before running out of the room and locking him in. Mr Clayton, Headmaster of Willow Grove Comprehensive, said it was an act of unparalleled bravery and Craig Bolton was to be applauded, not only as a credit to the school, but as a shining example to other pupils.
When asked to comment on her son’s bravery, Mrs Bolton said it was no more than she would have expected of her Craig. But, Mrs Bolton said, Craig’s brothers, five of them including Barry who was doing a stretch for bare knuckle boxing, weren’t too happy about Craig being called a druggie and a pervert, just because he had been caught with his pants down after checking himself out, thinking the shock he had suffered had caused him to have an ‘accident’. She expressed her hope that her son, Barry, didn’t find out who was responsible for blackening Craig’s good name because Barry had gotten used to prison–quite liked it–so it would be no skin off his nose to do another stretch. Even a long one.
Mr Clayton, when asked about accusations made of Craig using hallucinogenic drugs, said the suggestion was scurrilous and unfounded. The mention of drugs had been made merely to ascertain if Craig was taking anything which might give rise to contra-indications, such as hallucinations, if any medication was required following his ordeal.
When asked how she was feeling after her ordeal, Miss Smith, in a temporary position as school secretary, said she would find it impossible to regain her confidence after finding herself looking down the barrel of a gun in the hands of a violent robber. Miss Smith considered it most unlikely that she would be able to secure further suitable employment given the extreme, recurring dizzy spells, chest pains and headaches she was suffering. As well as the loss of her confidence, Miss Smith said she had also lost a number of valuable possessions in the raid.
When Craig was asked if he had any comment to make, he said, nah, he couldn’t be a***d.
The following week, Josh brought home a letter from school, signed by Mr Clayton asking for donations to help Miss Smith replace some of the items she had lost in the raid. The items, which were not covered by the school insurers were, a high spec camcorder, an Apple laptop, an iPad, an iPhone and a substantial quantity of valuable jewellery, which she had kept in a drawer in her desk in the event of being invited out, unexpectedly, straight from work.
Mr Clayton’s letter concluded by wishing Mrs Brody, who was on maternity leave, a speedy return to her position of school secretary.
19
&n
bsp; BYE GUY
It was Saturday, the day I had been waiting for all week. From the car window I checked the address against the note Guy had given me. It matched the tall, red bricked, terraced town house, three or four storied, grand and probably Victorian.
I looked at my watch, it wouldn’t do to be too early, or too eager. My watch said 9.55am. I had been up and dressed since 7.30, which, on a Saturday morning had never been known, could that be considered eager? Of course it could.
Well here goes, I told myself, in for a penny and all that. Butterflies were having a field day in the pit of my stomach.
I got out of the car, locked the door and walked the narrow, shrub-lined path, side-stepping the straddling branches of a small, brownish shrub, a shrub which I know from past experience has thorns powerful enough to rip the flesh from your legs, while smiling sweetly through tendrils of little white flowers. I gave it a knowing look and a wide berth as I continued up the path which led to a short flight of concrete steps and the front door. Plaster Acanthus leaves, like open hands, circled the tops of two bulbous plaster pillars standing like guards at each side of the door. Victorian ostentation at its best, I thought. I nearly grabbed an enormous brass knocker but somehow its size put me off, so I pressed the bell instead. Then as Guy, gorgeous Guy, pulled the door open, the butterflies did a final flutter before flying off and leaving me to it.
“Oh, you’ve come,” he said, smiling dazzlingly while tossing back his hair.
Try keeping me away, I thought, smiling back, as he led me into the hall and towards a very impressive staircase.
The top buttons of his white cheesecloth granddad shirt were opened and folded back showing off his plaited thong necklaces. His sleeves were rolled up and turquoise beaded bracelets hung loosely from both wrists. His white linen trousers were rolled up at the bottom to skim his ankles. He didn’t have anything on his feet. I suddenly felt overdressed. I didn’t think it was possible but he was actually even more gorgeous than I remembered.