Not Thomas

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Not Thomas Page 5

by Sara Gethin


  I know who he is. It’s him. The lady with the big bag and the other lady with the Gwa name said he would come. They said he’d come before Christmas. I’m running from the kitchen. I’m running to the window in the front room. I’m watching him going down the path. He’s getting into his red van. I’m waving and waving and waving. He’s looking and waving too. He’s smiling.

  ‘Thank you.’ I’m saying it quietly. I don’t want to wake up Mammy. I’m saying it through the glass. ‘Thank you, Siôn Corn.’ The window is getting misty. I’m rubbing the mist with my sleeve. The van is moving away and I am waving and waving and smiling and smiling. He’s nearly gone. His red van is nearly round the corner. I’m watching it and I’m watching it until it’s gone and I’m still waving.

  ‘Thank you, Father Christmas,’ I say. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  * * *

  I have stopped watching for Kaylee and her mammy and I’m watching the gold box outside the back door instead and I’m watching the bag that says ‘Santa Sack’ on it. I’m watching them through the glass and the bag is blowing a bit in the wind and some drops of rain have landed on the gold box but I don’t want lots of rain to land on it because lots of rain would spoil the gold paper.

  I can hear banging upstairs. Mammy has got up. She’s in the bathroom. I’m still watching the box and the bag and I’m watching the wind and the drops of rain and I can hear Mammy coming out of the bathroom and I’m running to the stairs. I can hear her saying, ‘Blurry knocking on the door.’

  ‘Mammy, Mammy. Come quick! Father Christmas has been. He’s left something outside for us.’ Mammy’s coming down the stairs. I’m running back to the door and I’m checking the box and the bag are still there. Mammy’s coming into the kitchen. ‘Happy Christmas, Mammy!’ I’m pointing to the things outside the door but Mammy’s eyes are not very open. She can’t see my finger pointing. ‘Father Christmas came,’ I say.

  ‘Who?’ She’s putting water in the kettle.

  ‘Father Christmas. He came this morning. He brought us presents.’ She’s picking up a mug from the sink and she’s tipping out the dirty water. ‘He was wearing a red hat. He said, “Ho, ho, ho”.’

  She’s putting a tea bag in the mug. ‘Yeah right.’

  ‘Look,’ I say. ‘Look!’ I’m pointing to the presents outside the back door. ‘He left those.’ She’s going to the back door now and she’s looking out and I’m jumping and jumping. ‘Happy Christmas. Happy Christmas.’

  ‘Fetch ’em in.’ She’s going back to her mug.

  ‘I can’t,’ I say. ‘I don’t know where the key is.’

  ‘Go ou’ the front then.’

  I’m running to the front door and I’m opening it and I’m running out and round the corner to the back of our house. I’ve come to the box and the Santa Sack and the wind is blowing the Santa Sack a little bit open. I can see inside it. I can see a black wheel with a silver shiny middle and I can see a bit of cardboard and I can see some letters. They are S U P E R T R U C. I’m lifting the Santa Sack off the gold box and I’m running round the front of our house with it and I’m running into the kitchen and I’m putting it on the floor. I’m running back to the front door and round the back of our house again and I’m putting my hands under the gold box. It’s very heavy. It’s full of tins and boxes and there are some sweets in it too. It’s very hard to pick it up. I’m trying and trying to pick it up but it’s too heavy. I’m putting it down again.

  I’m looking through the glass in the door. I can’t see Mammy. She isn’t in the kitchen anymore. I’m opening the back door. ‘Mammy.’ I’m saying it loud. ‘Mammy!’ I can hear some music. She’s put the telly on in the front room. ‘Mammy, it’s too heavy.’

  I’m going back to the box and I’m bending down. I’m trying and trying to pick it up and trying and trying and trying. I’m making myself very strong. I have very strong arms and very strong legs. I am the strongest boy in the world. I am the strongest boy ever. The box is moving. I’m picking it up. I’m turning round very slowly and I’m taking one step. I’m taking two steps. I am going through the back door into the kitchen. I am very strong. I’m very very strong. Mammy is coming back into the kitchen. She’s got the key. She’s holding it up. ‘Was down the side o’ the sofa,’ she says.

  She can see me carrying the box. She can see how strong I am. I’m bending my knees and I’m putting the box down on the floor. ‘Oomph,’ I say. All my breath has whooshed out of me. I feel floaty and my arms and legs are wobbly. I’m sitting down on the floor next to the box. ‘These are our presents from Father Christmas.’ My words are wobbly too. ‘Happy Christmas, Mammy.’

  Mammy is looking at the box and the Santa Sack. She’s looking at the back door. ‘Stupid kid,’ she says. She’s throwing the key at me. She’s turning round. She’s going back into the front room. I’m still sitting on the floor. I’m sitting next to the box. And the key.

  ‘Stupid kid,’ she says again. She’s saying it over her shoulder. She’s saying it over the noise on the telly. She’s saying it to me. ‘Makin’ me look for the blurry key. Back door wasn’ even locked.’

  * * *

  I am waiting for Kaylee and her Mammy again. I’m waiting for them to stop by our gate. The box and the Santa Sack are in the kitchen. Mammy is on the settee. She’s nearly asleep.

  ‘Mammy, the concert is today,’ I say. ‘Miss says it starts at half past three.’ I’m trying to look at Mammy and I’m trying to look out of the window too. ‘I’m singing the solo.’ She’s not saying anything. ‘Mammy, Mammy. I’m singing the solo today.’ Mammy’s nodding her head a bit but her eyes are still shut.

  Kaylee and her mammy are here and they’ve stopped by our gate. I’m running to the front door. ‘See you at the concert, Mammy. At half past three.’ I’m shutting the front door behind me and I’m running down the path to Kaylee and her mammy. ‘Father Christmas came,’ I say. ‘He brought us a gold box and a Santa Sack.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. We’ve started walking to school.

  ‘It’s not Christmas yet,’ Kaylee says. ‘It’s not Christmas ’til next week.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘We’re keeping our presents for Christmas Day.’

  ‘Did you tell your mother about the concert this afternoon?’ Kaylee’s mammy says.

  ‘Yes. I told her it starts at half past three.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Mrs Pugh said we’re practising all day today,’ Kaylee says.

  Her mammy is starting to walk fast. ‘We better hurry up then. You know what Mrs Pugh’s like. She’ll go spare if we’re late for her practice.’

  * * *

  We are waiting at the back of the stage. We’re waiting behind the big curtains. It’s very dark. Mrs Pugh Year Two is guarding us. She’s checking we don’t talk or fight. Or peep through the curtains to wave to the people. The people in the hall. We’re waiting for it to be our turn to sing. It’s a long wait. We’ve been practising all day. I’m very tired. And we’re waiting a long long time.

  I am a present. I’m wearing the big box that Miss gave me. My head is sticking out of the top and my arms are sticking out of the sides. It’s hard to move your arms and legs when you are a present. I’m standing next to Eddie. He’s the Christmas tree. He’s waving his branches and he’s knocking my shiny green paper. His tinsel is falling off. Mrs Pugh Year Two is shaking her head and putting his tinsel back on him. She’s making a cross face.

  Miss is starting to play our song. Mrs Pugh Year Two is listening by the curtains. She’s giving Eddie a push. Eddie’s branches are trying to find a way in between the curtains and now we are all going onto the stage.

  It’s scary on the stage. Some of us are standing round Eddie because we are the Christmas presents. Some children are standing behind us because they are the elves. Miss is playing the piano. And now we’re all singing ‘Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree…’ and Eddie is waving his branches slowly. We’re singin
g and doing our dance. And there are lots of people in the hall. They are all looking at us. They are looking and looking. It is very scary on the stage.

  Eddie’s waving his branches faster. He’s starting to move his feet too. His feet are his roots. Miss said he’s not allowed to move them. He must only move his branches. He must stand still and wave his branches. But he’s not standing still. He’s turning round and round. He’s starting to dance too. Eddie’s not allowed to dance. He is a tree.

  Seren says, ‘No, Eddie. Stand still.’ Seren is an elf. She’s talking in quite a loud voice. She’s stamping her foot too. Miss is looking up from the piano. Mrs Pugh Year Two’s looking cross at the side of the stage. ‘Stand still, Eddie,’ Seren says. ‘You can’t move. You’re the tree.’ She’s shouting it now.

  Eddie’s not standing still. He’s dancing round and round. He’s knocking into presents and knocking into elves. Nadia’s starting to cry. She’s a blue elf and she’s wearing big rabbit slippers. Seren’s trying to make Eddie stand still. She’s grabbing his arms. His tinsel has fallen off and we’ve all forgotten the words to our song. We’ve forgotten to keep dancing too.

  Mrs Pugh Year Two is on the stage. She’s putting her hand on Eddie’s back and she’s moving him off the stage. There’s a big noise in the hall. All the people are talking and lots of them are laughing. I’m looking out. I’m looking out at the people. I’m looking at all the faces. I’m looking for Mammy but it’s hard to find her. It’s a bit dark because Sir closed the blinds. There are lots of faces. There are lots and lots of people. I’m looking and looking. And looking and looking. There she is. I’ve found her. I can see her pretty yellow hair and she’s near the back and I’m waving to her and I’m waving and smiling and waving and waving and waving.

  Miss is starting to play the piano again. We’re doing our dance and singing our song. We’re singing ‘Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree…’ but we don’t have a Christmas tree anymore. We’re dancing round the tinsel that fell off Eddie.

  I’m looking out at Mammy. I’m trying to look at her and dance too. It’s quite hard because I’m turning and dancing. I can’t see her anymore. I’m looking and looking for her. And dancing and singing too. I’ve found her again. She’s looking at the stage but she isn’t watching me singing and dancing. She’s watching someone else. I’m trying to wave a little bit more. We’re not allowed to wave when we’re singing and dancing. Mrs Pugh Year Two told us in a very long assembly.

  We’ve finished our song and dance and everyone is clapping. Everyone’s smiling too. I’m looking and looking at Mammy and I’m smiling and smiling and waving at her and now I see. I see the lady that wasn’t watching me isn’t Mammy. It isn’t Mammy I was waving too. It’s another lady with pretty yellow hair. It isn’t my mammy at all. Because it’s Seren’s mammy.

  * * *

  We’re standing at the back of the stage. We’re watching Mary and Joseph. They are at the front of the stage. They’ve found somewhere to stay. The shepherds have brought Mary and Joseph baby Jesus. And a lamb. The kings have brought them some shiny boxes. There are lots of fairies at the front of the stage too. They’re dancing and singing a song about angels. I’m waiting and listening for Emma Louise to say, ‘Now sleep, baby Jesus, sleep.’ Then I will go to the front of the stage. With the fairies. And I will sing my solo. I’m waiting. And waiting.

  And I’m looking for Mammy in the hall. I’m looking in between Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and the kings. And all the fairies. I’m looking and looking. And looking and looking and looking. But I can’t see her. I think she might be watching Murder, She Wrote. And she might have fallen asleep on the settee. I’m looking and looking. And looking and looking. And I’m waiting to sing my solo.

  ‘Tomos.’ Mrs Pugh Year Two is whispering in a loud voice. ‘Tomos, go. Go!’ She’s flapping her hand at me.

  I’m going to the front of the stage and I’m squeezing through the fairies. It’s quite hard to squeeze through because I am a present. I’m checking my label is round the right way. I want Mammy to read the words. They say ‘To Mammy, Love from Tomos’. I’m standing right at the front of the stage now. I have to say my words first. I must not say them halfway through my solo. And I must not say them at the end. Mrs Pugh Year Two has told me.

  ‘I have come from the North Pole,’ I say. ‘This is my gift for you.’

  Then Miss is starting to play the piano and I’m taking a big breath. I’m starting to sing ‘Away in a manger, no crib…’ and then I see. I see him.

  I see Dat.

  He’s at the back of the hall. He’s standing near the door. He’s looking at me. He’s smiling and smiling and smiling. And he’s lifting up his hand to wave. And I am singing my solo and I’m waving to Dat. And I’m smiling and waving and waving and waving.

  * * *

  The concert has finished now and the people are going. I’m on the stage with Wes and someone else. The someone else is a boy with black hair. I don’t know his name. Wes is coming to stand next to me. He’s got a towel on his head. ‘Wotcha,’ he says. I’m not saying ‘wotcha’ back. I’m trying not to look at Wes because I want to keep looking at Dat. He’s still at the back of the hall and he’s talking to Miss. Wes is trying to grab my sparkly label and he’s trying to rip my shiny paper. It’s hard to move my arms to stop him because I am a present.

  ‘Stop that, Wesley Weston-Rees,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two looks very cross. ‘Where’s your mother?’

  ‘In work,’ Wes says.

  ‘Who’s collecting you then?’ she says.

  ‘Rockie. She’s my sister.’

  Mrs Pugh Year Two says, ‘Your sister’s called Rockie? Good gracious, what is the world coming to?’

  I can still see Dat. He’s by the big doors now.

  ‘Well, I wish she’d hurry up,’ she says. ‘And who’s collecting you, Tomos Morris?’

  ‘I think it’s Dat,’ I say.

  ‘What? Speak properly, child. Who’s collecting you?’

  I’m pointing to Dat with my finger. ‘Dat,’ I say.

  ‘Dat?’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. ‘Dat? The word is “that” and when you’re referring to a person you say “him” or “her”, not “that”.’ She’s shaking her head. ‘What on earth is happening to children these days?’

  ‘He’s my dat,’ I say. ‘My dat. I’m not allowed to see him anymore.’ I’m still pointing. ‘I did something, I think, and now I’m not allowed to see him.’

  Mrs Pugh Year Two isn’t listening. She’s talking to the boy with black hair. She’s saying, ‘And who’s collecting you, Malachi Morgan?’

  ‘My name ain’t Malachi, Miss. It’s Malky.’

  ‘Oh dear lord,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. ‘A good, biblical name ruined.’

  The boy called Malky is talking about his aunty. He’s saying she’s collecting him. Miss is still talking to Dat. They’re still by the doors. Miss is rubbing Dat’s arm. I’m waving to them. I’m waving and waving. But they’re not looking at me. A girl has come in through the doors. She’s a big girl. She’s walking to the stage. She’s nodding at Wes. He’s showing her his tongue.

  ‘Are you Wesley’s sister?’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. ‘Are you this person called Rockie?’

  The girl’s nodding. ‘Yeah, that’s me.’

  ‘Well, kindly tell your mother that every other shepherd brought their own tea towel,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. ‘I sent out letters weeks ago. Wesley had to borrow one from the school canteen.’ She’s pulling the towel off Wes’s head. ‘Some shepherds even brought their own stuffed lambs. Some parents make an effort.’

  ‘Okay,’ the girl called Rockie says. ‘I’ll tell her. Wes, come on let’s go.’

  Wes is jumping down off the stage. ‘See you, thicko.’ He’s saying it to me.

  ‘Bye, Wes. See you.’

  The girl called Rockie is looking at me. She’s shaking her head. ‘Don’t let him talk to you like that. Don’t let him bully you.’ She’s going away
now. She’s going out of the hall with Wes.

  There are only two of us left on the stage. There’s me and the boy called Malky. We’re waiting to be collected. I’m wondering if I’m waiting to be collected by Dat. I am hoping and hoping I am. Miss is still talking to him. She’s nodding and putting her hand on his arm again. She’s giving him a hug. She’s saying, ‘Bye, Dafydd. Take care.’ She’s turned round now and she’s coming back to the stage.

  Dat has opened the hall door. He’s smiling at me. He’s waving to me too. He’s waving and waving and I am waving and waving. Dat’s mouth looks all wobbly. And I’m waving and waving and waving. He’s going through the door.

  He’s gone.

  Miss is talking to Kaylee and her mammy. They’re coming over to the stage. ‘It’s awful,’ Kaylee’s mammy’s saying. ‘After everything Dafydd and Nannette did for Ree.’

  ‘I know, Karen,’ Miss says. ‘I know.’

  ‘And it’s just so she can be with that waster Nick Brickland.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s about her boyfriend really,’ Miss says. ‘I think she’s had a shock, you know, with Nannette dying so suddenly…’

  Kaylee’s mammy’s shaking her head. ‘Well, it was a bigger shock for Dafydd. And then Ree goes an’ accuses him of stuff. I knew she was nasty, but this is just really horrible.’

  ‘I know,’ Miss says. ‘But I think she’s finding it difficult to—’

  Kaylee’s mammy hasn’t heard her. ‘She only cares ’bout herself,’ she says. ‘She don’t say a word to me no more, and we used to be best friends.’

  They’re next to the stage now. Malky has gone. I didn’t see him going. I am the only one on the stage. I’m the only one waiting to be collected. Miss is looking at me and she’s smiling and smiling. ‘Well done, Tomos. Your solo was lovely.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kaylee’s mammy’s smiling at me now too. ‘It was really good.’

  ‘But spoilt by all that waving,’ Mrs Pugh Year Two says. Her face is cross.

  Miss is still smiling at me. ‘Your dat wanted me to tell you that he’s very proud of you.’

 

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