Sunshine Through the Rain

by Gilly Stewart

  Mr Fletcher was a brisk, balding man in his fifties, who shook her hand and ushered her into his office. Angus was sitting on a chair pushed back against one wall. He didn’t look up.

  Ellen glanced doubtfully from the boy to the teacher and back. Angus looked so sorrowful, that straight hair flopping over his face, skin deathly pale. But if he was in trouble she wanted to know what had happened before she started offering sympathy. She compromised by laying a hand briefly on his shoulder.

  ‘Please take a seat.’ The rector sat down himself, beside rather than behind the desk. ‘Now, I can tell you what I understand to have happened, but I would much prefer it if Angus explained for himself. Angus?’

  Ellen held her breath. Was her nephew going to demand his ‘real’ name?

  He didn’t. He raised his head, but didn’t look directly at either of them. ‘It was nothing. Just a … misunderstanding.’

  ‘And what caused this “misunderstanding”?’

  ‘I, erm, can’t remember. It was nothing.’

  ‘It may or may not have been a misunderstanding, but I beg to differ when you claim it was nothing.’ Mr Fletcher didn’t raise his voice but his tone was firm. ‘Miss Marshall came upon you and three other boys having what appeared to be a full-scale fight outside the dining hall. I’d like you to tell your aunt and me what started this.’

  Angus shrugged very slightly and shot Ellen a quick glance, as though to judge her level of sympathy. Ellen felt a lump rise in her throat. Poor Angus. Why hadn’t she listened to her mother’s warnings?

  ‘I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,’ she said gently. ‘But you’ll need to tell us what happened so we can help.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask the others?’

  Ellen let the rector answer that. She was wondering herself where the other boys were.

  ‘I have already spoken to Jason, Paul, and Ryan. They have all three been suspended from school for the next week, as you will be.’ Mr Fletcher waited for a reaction, but Angus had gone back to looking at his feet and said nothing. Ellen noted that his trousers were frayed and rather short. When had that happened? Was she supposed to notice when the kids needed new school clothes on top of everything else?

  ‘Angus, your aunt and I are waiting to hear what you have to say.’

  Angus let the silence drag out as long as he dared. ‘We were just messing about in the dinner queue. That’s all.’

  ‘A normal amount of pushing and shoving is something we have to live with. One boy on the floor being punched by another is absolutely not. I would like to know what started this.’

  ‘Nothing. We were just messing about.’

  ‘I don’t recall that Jason and his friends are boys you normally go about with. Am I correct in that?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘So it was three against one?’

  Angus shrugged again.

  ‘Where were your friends?’

  Angus let out his breath in a rush. ‘I don’t have any friends, do I?’ He spoke so quietly Ellen struggled to hear his words. She moved towards him, wanting to touch him, comfort him, but he shrank back into the chair. She thought he flinched slightly, as though something was sore.

  Mr Fletcher waited a full minute. When the boy offered nothing more he said, ‘Is there anything else you would like to tell us, Angus?’

  The boy shook his head. Ellen suspected he was close to tears.

  ‘Very well then. Your one-week suspension starts from today, and I don’t expect to see you back in school until a week on Monday. This will of course be confirmed to you by letter.’ Mr Fletcher left a pause, but Angus said nothing. ‘Please go and wait in the corridor for a few moments, while I have a word in private with your aunt.’

  Ellen felt shaky with anger, guilt, and fear. How could the school let this happen? Why hadn’t she noticed there were problems?

  ‘Perhaps you won’t agree with me, but I have to say that I don’t think this is all Angus’s fault,’ she said, as soon as the boy had left them alone.

  ‘It is rare that the fault is all on one side.’

  Ellen glared. She was getting a bit fed up of this measured tone. ‘Actually, I disagree. I think Angus is being picked on.’

  ‘Has he told you that?’

  ‘Well, no. But I know my sister had … concerns that he might be being bullied.’

  The headmaster was sitting back, apparently relaxed, listening with irritating patience. ‘I don’t recall her saying anything to me about that. I’ll check with Angus’s teachers.’

  ‘I don’t know if she had been in contact with the school about it or not. How would I know? I was in Edinburgh, they were down here. No one thought for a moment that I was going to end up responsible for the children. I just know she had her worries.’

  ‘As I said, I’ll look in to it. I have always had the impression that Angus Moffat is rather a solitary boy. Not exactly friendless, but somewhat aloof. I gather that this has become more pronounced since his parents’ unfortunate death.’

  ‘It’s hardly likely to make him more outgoing, is it?’ Ellen felt criticised. She hadn’t thought Angus was any different to usual, but what did she know about usual?

  ‘And perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to let Angus spend time on his own in Dunmuir just now.’

  ‘So you do think he’s being bullied?’

  ‘I couldn’t say,’ he said, carefully. ‘But my advice would be to keep an eye on the boy. You know how silly twelve and thirteen year olds can be, don’t you?’

  Ellen knew practically nothing about children of any age, but she decided not to share that fact.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Did they hurt you?’ said Ellen as Angus slid into the car seat beside her.

  ‘No. I’m fine.’ He shrugged and she was pretty sure he flinched again. She wanted to insist, to push back his fringe, make him open his shirt so she could see for herself. But natural reticence stopped her.

  ‘I can’t believe this has happened. And the school …’

  Angus just turned to look out of the side window and said nothing. Once they reached Craigallan he took himself of to change and disappeared outside. By the time he came in for his evening meal, a faint colour had returned to his cheeks. Ellen decided to see that as a positive. She didn’t have the energy to tackle him right now.

  She rustled up a stir-fry and said that as it was Friday she didn’t see why the children shouldn’t eat their pudding – yoghurts – in front of the television. With a glass of wine and the local weekly paper, she curled up in the chair beside the Rayburn and tried to relax.

  But she couldn’t. Angus wasn’t just being bullied, he was being beaten up! And she hadn’t done anything to stop it.

  Oh, Jess, I’m sorry, she thought. For not realising how hard it is. For not getting it right. Jessie, Jessie, where are you? She let the tears well up in her eyes then dabbed them away before they fell. She didn’t want the children to know she had been crying. As far as she knew, they hadn’t shed any tears themselves for a week or two, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  She leafed through the newspaper, amazing herself once again at the minutiae that appeared to interest the local people. How many school fêtes and charity appeals could one person take? Which reminded her that there was that coffee evening for the primary school coming up right after the holidays. Hadn’t Clare talked her into volunteering her services? She was pretty sure there was something, but couldn’t quite remember what it was she had promised to do.

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling for inspiration. And didn’t at all like what she saw there.

  ‘Shit.’ She let the paper fall to the floor. Was that a drip? She went over to the corner and squinted upwards. Yep, it was definitely a drip. She looked down. There was already a small puddle forming at her feet. It had been raining hard since late afternoon, and this time the rain seemed to have found a way in. Why now? Richard had finally agreed to visit for a weekend and was arriving tomorrow. She had be
en so looking forward to a break. A leaking roof was not the sort of thing to put Richard in a good temper.

  She turned helplessly in a full circle. What did one do in situations like this? Her flat in Edinburgh had a service agreement and all you needed to do when a problem arose was to ring the factor. Nothing was that easy at Craigallan.

  She pulled out an old washing up basin from beneath the sink and placed it under the drip. If that was what they did at Dunmuir Academy, why not here? The irregular ‘plop’ of water echoed around the kitchen and made her feel even less at ease. She went to the back door and peered out. The rain seemed to be tailing off. So perhaps the leak would resolve itself? If she was really, really lucky that might even be before the plaster ceiling caved in.

  This was ridiculous. She had to do something.

  Lucy appeared in the doorway at that moment and paused doubtfully, looking at the ceiling. ‘Auntie Ellen, it’s dripping.’

  ‘It’s OK, sunshine. I’m going to get it fixed.’

  ‘Oh.’ Lucy looked at the bowl on the floor with interest. ‘Will it be all right like that?’

  ‘Yes. Absolutely fine. For the moment.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ said Angus, coming up behind his sister.

  Lucy skipped over to the basin and watched with interest as the drops fell. Angus’s gaze followed her and then he looked at Ellen. ‘The roof has started to leak,’ he said. ‘I knew we shouldn’t have just left it.’

  ‘Yep. So let’s see what we can do about I, shall we? Is there a ladder about somewhere so I can get up in to the roof space and have a look?’ Ellen had noticed the hatch into the loft only a few days ago, and wished she had investigated at that point.

  ‘Dunno. There might be one in the shed.’

  ‘Can you and Callum go and look, please?’ Ellen spoke calmly and firmly. If he thought she expected nothing but obedience, perhaps she would get it? This time, at least, it worked. The two boys trooped outside.

  Lucy had transferred her attention from the drip to her aunt. ‘Are you going to fix it?’

  ‘I’m going to try.’

  Lucy considered this. ‘Mum didn’t like ladders,’ she said at length. ‘Shouldn’t we get Kit to do it?’

  ‘No we should not.’ Ellen was all the more annoyed because that was exactly what she wanted to do. She knew nothing about buildings, whereas Kit clearly knew a great deal. She reminded herself yet again that she had decided to stop relying on him so much.

  At that moment the front door bell rang and for a second Ellen wondered if her thoughts had actually summoned Kit to help. It was about this time he occasionally dropped in if he wished to use their washing facilities. Then she remembered that he never used the front door. No friends did. With a tsk of impatience she went to answer it.

  It was Mrs Jack, the lady who lived with her invalid husband in the bungalow opposite Clare. She bestowed a bright smile on Ellen and held out a small envelope. ‘So glad you’re home. I was beginning to wonder, although with the car parked out on the road like that one would have thought someone was in.’ She paused for breath and tried to see over Ellen’s shoulder. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting? I’m just doing my little bit for the greater good.’ She gave a tinkling laugh and thrust the envelope so far out that Ellen had to take it. ‘Collecting for the Red Cross, such a deserving cause. You don’t need to fill it now, but it’ll save both of us time if you do. Shall I just step inside and wait for a minute?’

  ‘I’m not really sure …’ said Ellen.

  ‘I don’t hold with supporting some of these new-fangled charities, but the Red Cross is an excellent organisation, very well established, everyone agrees. I like to do my little bit to help, which isn’t easy with Mr Jack the way he is. I feel this collecting is my little contribution, so to speak.’

  It occurred to Ellen that Mr and Mrs Jack were the only people in the village whose first names she didn’t know. And although she had never met Mr Jack, she could have done with seeing a little less of his wife.

  ‘I’ll come in, shall I? I shan’t mind waiting.’ Mrs Jack bared her teeth in what Ellen suspected was supposed to be a smile.

  Ellen decided that it was easiest just to acquiesce, and led the way through to the kitchen. ‘I’ll just find my bag …’ Angus and Callum had clearly found the ladder, for it was now propped up in the gaping hole in the ceiling. The handbag was forgotten. ‘Angus? Callum?’

  Two faces appeared in the gloom above.

  ‘Do you think it’s safe for them to be up there?’ said Mrs Jack.

  ‘Angus! What are you doing?’

  ‘Looking for the leak,’ muttered Angus. ‘You weren’t here.’

  ‘Are both of you up there? Honestly, I thought you had more sense …’ Her heart rate picked up, just at the sight of them so high above. ‘Come down at once!’

  It didn’t help having Mrs Jack as a fascinated witness to the events. But then, if Mrs Jack hadn’t come calling she would have been in the kitchen to stop them climbing up in the first place.

  ‘There is absolutely no reason for you to go up there.’

  ‘I’m holding the torch for Angus,’ said Callum, oblivious to her tone. ‘Have you ever looked up here? It’s so cool.’

  ‘Can I see?’ said Lucy, putting one foot on the ladder.

  ‘No you can not.’ Ellen could see the boys weren’t going to come down without an argument, which she really didn’t want to have in front of Mrs Jack. ‘Angus, Callum, stand back from the opening and don’t move any further. I’ll be with you in just a minute.’ She grabbed her handbag and pulled out the first note she could find from her purse. It happened to be twenty pounds, but she didn’t have time to look further. She stuffed it into the envelope and handed it back to Mrs Jack.

  ‘Oh, so generous, thank you.’ Mrs Jack was still staring upwards in great interest. It was as if she wanted the boys to fall down in front of her. She reluctantly transferred her attention to Ellen. ‘Of course you’ll need to fill out your name and the amount on the envelope, I do like to do everything properly.’

  ‘You do it. I trust you. Now, I’m really a bit busy …’ She ushered Mrs Jack back to the front door, pushing her almost bodily to keep her moving.

  ‘I think you need to keep a better eye on those two boys,’ said Mrs Jack. ‘I don’t like to tell tales, but living where I do you can’t help seeing things you’d rather not. A little wild at times, aren’t they, and to think they would go up a ladder on their own like that …’ She paused and turned to see Kit striding down the track, a towel slung over one shoulder and wash bag in his hand.

  ‘Good evening,’ he said politely. ‘Is everything all right?’

  Ellen groaned. This was all she needed to get the village gossips started. Mrs Jack’s eyes were positively bulging from her head as she looked from Kit to Ellen and back.

  ‘I need to get back to the kids. Mrs Jack is just going. Thank you so much for calling.’ Ellen let Kit in and shut the door in her unwanted visitor’s over-eager face.

  ‘What on earth …?’ said Kit, but she didn’t wait to explain. She dashed back to the kitchen and he, of course, followed her.

  ‘Look, you go and have your shower. I’m just …’

  This time she checked the ladder was correctly positioned and then climbed it herself, two rungs at a time. For once Kit forbore to give advice, but dropped his towel and bag on the floor and held the ladder in place.

  Ellen’s heart was in her mouth. She had no idea what sort of floor covering there was up here, whether the boys risked falling through the ceiling at any moment. Amazingly, they had done exactly as she asked and were standing a foot or so from the opening, balanced on the wooden rafters.

  ‘Don’t tread on this stuff,’ she said, gesturing at the insulation that was laid thickly between the wood. ‘You’ll go straight through.’

  ‘We know that,’ said Angus. ‘We’re not stupid. Now, can we get on with this?’

  Ellen paused to catch her breath
and recover from her fear of a calamity that wasn’t. ‘You two need to go back down. At once.’

  ‘But who’s going to help you …?’

  ‘I’ll help her,’ said Kit, appearing through the trap door and considerably reducing the light in the loft. ‘What on earth are you boys doing up here?’

  ‘I can manage on my own,’ said Ellen untruthfully. ‘If you can help the boys back down.’

  ‘I …’ began Angus.

  ‘Now!’ said Ellen, uncompromising. She didn’t mind raising her voice in front of Kit. She angled the torch so they could see what they were doing and waited in silence until they had complied. It was only when the boys were back at floor level that she felt able to breathe again. She peered around by the light of the torch, trying to see where the water was coming in and realising, although not admitting it, that it would have been easier with someone to hold the torch.

  She wasn’t even surprised when Kit’s head reappeared in the hatch and he levered himself easily onto the rafters. He was agile, for all his bulk. ‘I see we seem to have a little leak,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Want me to have a look?’

  ‘Would you take no for an answer?’ said Ellen ungraciously, and then sighed. She shouldn’t be ungracious. It wasn’t Kit she was annoyed with, it was circumstances that were constantly wrong-footing her. ‘It’s up here, I think.’ She pointed the torch and he examined the roof in silence for a while.

  As it turned out, they weren’t able to fix it, although they positioned a second basin on the rafters to catch the worst of the drops. The problem was with the slates on the outside, and that was definitely beyond Ellen and she refused to involve Kit further. ‘You’re not a roofer, are you?’ she said firmly. What she needed was to get in a professional.

  She insisted Kit go for his delayed shower and sent the children back through to the sitting room. Then, armed with the Yellow Pages and the cordless phone, prepared to do battle. It was just a question of being persistent. And if that didn’t work, she would play the helpless female. One way or another she was going to get a roofer out to Craigallan the following day.