The hospital. I'll drive us there – it'll be quicker t h a n an ambulance.'
'I'm not going to any hospital!' Carl shouted 264
hysterically. 'I'm OK. I'm j u s t cut a bit, that's all.
Look, I'll w a s h it off, r i g h t ? ' He r a n the t a p h a r d on his arms, splashing water everywhere.
'Carl, love, you're going to have to go, you're going to need stitches,' said Jules. 'Your fingers are a mess – and look at your wrist!' She tried to hold him but he was flailing wildly.
'Did he cut him? I'll punch his head in,' said Jake, nearly in tears himself.
'I'm going to call an ambulance if you won't let me take you by car,' said Jules.
We'll call the police too,' said Mick, getting his mobile out of his j e a n s pocket.
'Why in God's n a m e phone the police? Are you going to have me arrested?' Carl shouted.
'We have to report what's happened. Sylvie thinks your friend Paul smashed everything,'
said Mick.
Carl looked astonished. 'You idiot,' he said to me. He stood up straight, wiping his eyes and nose, blood dripping from his arms. 'Isn't it obvious? I did it.'
We all stared at him.
'Don't be ridiculous, Carl,' said Mick. 'What are you trying to do, protect this so-called friend?'
'You wouldn't smash your own collection, Carl,' said Jake. 'It would be like me smashing my guitar.'
'Oh, Carl,' said Jules. 'Whatever made you do it?'
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There was a sudden loud knocking on the door.
'You didn't call the police already, did you?'
said Carl.
'No, no. Jake, go and see who it is,' said Mick.
We h e a r d my mum's voice, very cross.
'Oh no,' I said.
'Let's call in all the neighbours. Let's get the whole street to come and gawp at me,' said Carl.
Mum came storming through to the kitchen.
'Sylvie, how dare you disappear like t h a t — ' she started. Then she stopped, seeing Carl and the state he was in. 'Dear God, what's happened?'
'We're not quite sure,' said Jules. 'Some of Carl's glass collection got smashed and he's h u r t himself picking up the pieces. Sylvie's got a little cut too, but I t h i n k she's fine. Still, maybe she'd better come with us to the hospital j u s t to make sure she doesn't need a t e t a n u s jab or whatever.'
'I'il take her. Oh God, no, I've h a d too much wine. Perhaps Gerry can drive us. I don't think he's h a d as much as me.'
I went to Mum and p u t my arms round her.
'Mum. You stay here with Gerry. I need to go with Carl. Please!
M u m s t a r t e d a r g u i n g b u t J u l e s was surprisingly firm.
'There's no point all of us sitting in A and E
for hours. I'll take them.'
She put a h a n d on Carl's shoulder, a h a n d on mine, and steered us out of the house. Carl tried 266
to pull away when we were at the gate b u t she h u n g onto him.
'You're coming to t h a t hospital, Carl. You're badly cut. It looks like you've got splinters of glass in your fingers. For God's sake, you're my artist son, you need to get your h a n d s fixed properly. You could have severed a tendon. Now get in t h e car, both of you.'
She drove us to the hospital while we sat shivering in t h e back of t h e car. Carl was still sobbing, though he was trying h a r d to stop. I got the car r u g and wrapped it round him.
'There now,' said Jules when we pulled into the hospital car park. 'Let's get you sorted out, sweetie.' She p u t her arm round Carl, tucking the rug tighter round him. 'Come on, Sylvie.'
We h a d to give our details to a woman at reception. Then we sat in a crowded waiting room with babies crying, drunks swearing, m a d people muttering. Carl hunched up inside his rug. Jules sat between us, h e r arms stretched out round both of us. We still didn't talk. We were too dazed by the whole situation. Carl s h u t his eyes as if he was trying to blot it all out.
Jules kept looking at him anxiously, h e r t e e t h nibbling at a piece of loose skin on h e r bottom lip. He was still shivering violently.
'There now,' she whispered. 'There now.'
Then we were led into a small cubicle and a woman in a white coat gently peeled back Carl's bloody sleeves a n d looked at his a r m s and hands.
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'Ooh dear, you've gone to town here, matie,'
she said. W h a t have you done to yourself, eh?'
'He tripped a n d knocked over a glass collection,' said Jules. 'That's why he's in a state of shock.'
'I should think you are too!' she said. Well, we'll get you thoroughly examined and stitched up a n d you'll eventually be as good as new. I wish we could do t h e same for your mum's glasses! And now w h a t about you, young lady?
Oh, this is j u s t a little nick. Still, we might give you a tiny stitch, j u s t so you can keep your brother company'
'He's not my brother,' I mumbled.
'Uh-oh! Boyfriend, then?' she said.
I took a deep breath. 'No. Best friend,' I said.
Carl opened his eyes a n d gave me a wry little smile.
'I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little while until there's a doctor free to stitch you up. I'm not sure if the cafeteria is still open, but you can get a tea or coffee from the machine down the corridor. That's it, t r y to cheer up. It's not t h e end of the world.'
'She's right,' said Jules when she'd gone. 'Now, I t h i n k we could all do with a cup of tea, don't you? I'll go and see w h a t I can rustle up. You two look after each other. If either of you s t a r t violently spurting blood holler for a doctor, OK?'
She went off, a n d Carl and I were left together.
'I'm sorry I called you an idiot,' Carl 268
whispered. 'You're not the idiot, Sylvie. I am.
I've j u s t been so stupid. I feel so ridiculous.
It's so awful. I'm not used to being like this, feeling so much, making such a fool of myself. I j u s t couldn't bear it though. He's told everyone.'
'But why did he?'
'I don't t h i n k he intended to. He kept quiet and ignored me in class. Then he told the d r a m a teacher he didn't want to be in A Midsummer Night's Dream any more. He said it interfered with his football practice, but then one of the Neanderthals in the t e a m said to him, "'What, don't you want to be in your fairy play any more, you little poof?" He didn't mean it, he was j u s t mucking around, b u t Paul took him seriously and practically punched him. Then some of the others started joining in. They were j u s t teasing
– they all t h i n k he's fantastic, a n d they know he's s t r a i g h t – he's been showing stupid Miranda's tits to everyone, for God's sake.
All he h a d to do was laugh, b u t he got more and more wound up. I was watching him and he saw me and he blushed. Someone said, "Why have you gone all red?" and someone else said, still teasing, "Ooh, it's the sight of his fairy play-mate," meaning me. You could tell they weren't serious, they weren't p u t t i n g two a n d two together, b u t he was scared and he j u s t started yelling stuff'
Carl stopped a n d took a deep s h u d d e r y breath.
'Stuff about you?'
269
'Yes. That I was gay and I'd tried to snog him and it made him sick. Then they all got started on me. Only this time they weren't teasing. This time it was for real. And Paul joined in. He said t h e worst things. And he told t h e m stuff about me, told them about my glass collection. They started calling me Glass Boy. Then one wag said, "No, no, Ass Boy," and that's caught on in a big w a y '
'Oh, Carl. What did you do? Did you get angry? Did you cry?'
'I j u s t stood there like a dummy, trying to ignore them. I tried to m a k e out t h a t it was no big deal. I didn't really care so much about all t h e others. It was Paul saying it. I held it all in.
I went to d r a m a and all the boys there knew and they couldn't say too much in front of the teacher but there was a lot of whispering and no on
e would come near me. Then on the way home on t h e bus some of t h e m were saying stuff and cracking jokes, really stupid crude j o k e s — '
'How can they all be so horrible?'
'It's j u s t the way things are. But I still didn't react. I sneaked in at home while everyone was in t h e living room watching something daft on the television. I couldn't face them. I grabbed a bottle from the kitchen cupboard – cooking sherry, for God's sake – and I went out to the Glass H u t and I started drinking.'
'Why didn't you phone me?'
'I wanted to hide away by myself. I tried to get d r u n k but the sherry tasted disgusting, so sweet 270
and syrupy, it was h a r d to get it down. I wanted to blot out all their voices, all the stupid crude things, all the ugliness. I kept seeing Paul and the dirty things he was shouting, and there was the Glass Boy right in front of me. It's so like Paul – I don't know whether you've ever noticed.
I couldn't bear it. I didn't really know w h a t I was doing, I j u s t flung the sherry bottle, and it smashed him. It was so awful, I couldn't bear it, and yet I couldn't stop smashing, and then I cut myself a n d — '
Carl stopped. Jules was standing there, trying to balance three polystyrene cups of tea.
'You cut yourself, Carl?' she said. The cups wobbled, spilling tea onto the floor.
I took t h e m from her. She sat down beside Carl.
'Tell me. I won't tell anyone else. Not even Dad. But did you cut yourself on purpose?'
'What? You mean, was I trying to slit my wrists? Well, I made a bit of a botch of it, didn't I?' said Carl, waggling his congealed fingers.
'No, Mum, I wasn't trying to kill myself. I didn't really care t h a t I was getting cut to ribbons, b u t I wasn't doing it deliberately.'
'Thank God,' said Jules. She p u t h e r a r m round Carl and rested her head against his. 'I know you haven't been very happy recently. I've been very worried about you. Obviously something horrible's happened to get you in this state. You don't have to tell me about it if you don't w a n t to. J u s t so long as you realize you've 271
got everything to live for. You're a fantastic, bright, gifted boy, you've got a family who love you to bits, and Sylvie's your best friend in all the world.'
'Yes, Mum. I know. It's j u s t — ' Carl struggled, shivering still.
Jules gave him his tea. 'Here, drink.'
She gave me my tea too. 'Do you know what's wrong, Sylvie?'
'Well. I do now. Sort of.'
Carl took a few sips of tea. 'The thing is, Mum
– oh God, I don't know how to say it. It all sounds so corny. You see, I fell in love with someone.'
'Ah. And . .. they don't love you back?'
'They h a t e me,' said Carl. He took another sip.
'He h a t e s me,' he whispered.
'Ah,' said Jules again. She took a big gulp of h e r own tea. 'Well, it's awful t h a t it hasn't worked out for you this time, but I promise you you'll fall in love again – and again and again and again. It might not be quite so intense, quite so painful, but it will be better, j u s t you wait and see.'
I stared at Jules. Carl stared at her too.
'Mum? I've j u s t told you I'm gay and you're being so matter of fact about it.'
'Well, it is a m a t t e r of fact. I've thought you might be.'
'Oh God, you haven't been discussing me with Dad, have you?'
'No. Well, not your love life.'
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'And you don't mind?'
'Of course not. You're my Carl and I love you j u s t the way you are. I mind a little bit for Sylvie.' She reached out and held my hand. 'It's maybe a bonus for me. Gay sons are always lovely to their mums.'
'What about Dad? Do you think he'll mind?'
'Mm. Maybe a bit. He prides himself on being totally PC a n d non-judgemental b u t it might take him a while to get his head round it. He'll probably w a n t you to keep quiet about it while you're still at school.'
'Chance would be a fine thing,' said Carl.
'They all know. Paul told them. And now they're all saying stuff.'
'Awful things,' I said.
'I never wanted you to go to the wretched school,' said Jules. 'I wish you'd stayed at Milstead with Sylvie.'
'I wish I h a d too,' said Carl. 'I wish we were back in the infants, doing our finger painting and pouring water out of teapots, playing house together.'
'You always bagged the best Barbie doll even then,' I said.
It wasn't a funny joke b u t we all laughed a lot because it was easier t h a n crying.
Mum was waiting up w h e n I got home at last.
I'd phoned h e r from t h e hospital a n d told h e r truthfully t h a t I only needed a single stitch, though poor Carl lost count of t h e n u m b e r of stitches he h a d to endure. He was so brave too, barely flinching.
'Let me see your h a n d , Sylvie,' said Mum, fussing.
'It's fine, see.' I waved it at her. I looked around t h e room. There was no sign of Gerry, but I'd seen his car outside. 'Gerry's still here?'
'Yes, he's staying t h e night,' M u m said, going pink. 'He's gone up to bed.'
Her bed.
'I thought I could maybe sleep on t h e sofa down here,' she said.
'Oh, Mum. Don't be silly. I'm not a little kid.'
274
'Well, it's a bit embarrassing. Gerry didn't plan to stay, but I was in a bit of a state and he wouldn't leave me. But contrary to w h a t you're thinking, we haven't – we're n o t — '
'Mum!' I put my h a n d s over my ears. 'Don't talk about it!'
'I know. Look, it's very embarrassing for all of us. And it's obvious it is a big deal for you Sylvie.
You were so hostile at supper.'
'No I wasn't.'
'Come on We could barely get a word out of you.'
'I h a d other things on my mind. I'm sorry. I didn't m e a n to be rude,' I said.
'So you don't absolutely h a t e Gerry?'
'He's OK. He seems quite nice.'
'That's a bit lukewarm. He thinks you're lovely.'
'Then he's either lying or mad, because I admit I wasn't acting lovely. But it was truly because I was so worried about Carl.'
'Right. Carl. Are you going to tell me what's going on?'
'It's private, Mum.'
'Does Jules know?'
'She does now.'
'That's good, because she's been so worried about him. How badly h a s he h u r t his hands? It looked like a lot of blood.'
'He's cut all his fingers. They h a d to tweezer some splinters out. He was so brave. I'd have cried my eyes out.'
275
'But he was crying earlier.'
'You've no idea w h a t he's h a d to p u t up with, Mum. I wish I could tell you. I feel so sorry for him.'
She tucked me up into bed, giving me lots of little kisses the way she'd done when I was little. It was very late and I was exhausted, but I still couldn't get to sleep. My finger throbbed and I tucked it into my armpit for comfort. If my h a n d was hurting then Carl must be in agony.
I thought of all those boys shouting stupid insults at him. I hated Paul. I hoped Carl would s t a r t to hate him too. At least he'd be able to stay away from school for the next week or so, while his hands were healing.
I got up very early even though I was still exhausted. I wanted to be in and out of the bath-room without a n y e m b a r r a s s i n g encounters with Gerry. I made myself a quick breakfast, hoping to r u s h off before seeing anyone, b u t Miss Miles came in to make her early-morning cup of tea. She usually h a d a few Kirby grips skewering h e r thin grey h a i r into place and wore an old fleece over h e r limp nightie, b u t today she'd fluffed out h e r meagre curls a n d was wearing a silky kimono dressing gown.
I raised my eyebrows.
'Yes, I'm in my best bib and tucker in case I frighten our special guest,' she whispered. 'I met him last night when I went to make my Horlicks. He's very nice, isn't he?'
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>
'Mm,' I said, shrugging.
'Now, now, Sylvie, don't play t h e s u r l y teenager. He seems like a lovely man, and very fond of your mother.'
'They've only j u s t met each other. It's not like they're getting married' I said.
'Well . . . in the fullness of time . . .' said Miss Miles.
'Oh, please!' I hadn't quite got t h a t far. It was one t h i n g Mum having a boyfriend, b u t I wasn't ready for her to get serious, 'I'd h a t e that,' I said.
Well, if I'm being totally selfish, I wouldn't be keen either, because I'd have to find a new home and I like it so much more here! It's been lovely, almost as if I'm p a r t of the family' She smiled at me sweetly.
I wondered if I should say she was j u s t like an aunty to me b u t I couldn't quite get t h e words out.
'Did you ever have your own place, Miss Miles?'
'My salary wouldn't stretch to it, dear. I always thought I'd inherit the family house, b u t t h a t h a d to be sold for Mother's nursing care. Ah well.' She sighed. 'Something will t u r n up, as dear Mr Micawber always says.'
Miss Miles t r e a t e d C h a r l e s Dickens characters as if they were p a r t of h e r family too.
Still, I lived w i t h King Carlo a n d Q u e e n Sylviana . . .
I tried to conjure t h e m up. I could see t h e m but they stood as still and silent as waxworks. I 277
simply couldn't will t h e m to life. I couldn't bear it if they were all over too.
'I'm going to see how Carl is before I go to school,' I said. 'Can you say goodbye to Mum for me?'
I was astonished to find Carl up already and dressed in his purple school uniform. His b a n d a g e d h a n d s looked like comical white gloves.
'You're not going to school, are you?' I said.
'Are you crazy?'
'That's exactly w h a t I said,' said Jules. 'Oh, Carl, do see sense. There's no point in your going to school – you can't even write
your name.'
'Yes I can, with a bit of effort,' said Carl. He flexed his bandaged fingers. 'See. They still work.'
'Don't give me t h a t . You were ages in the bathroom. You can barely b r u s h your own teeth.
Mick, tell him he can't go.'
'I t h i n k Carl's the one who's got to decide for himself – and it looks as if he has,' said Mick.
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