Not Thomas

by Sara Gethin

  ‘Yes.’ I want to run back to my bedroom. I want to open my Santa Sack. I’m taking a step back.

  ‘What did he bring you?’ the lady says. ‘Something nice, I expect.’

  ‘Something in a Santa Sack.’ I’m saying it fast and I’m taking another step back.

  ‘Oh goodness. SomethinginaSantaSack. These new-fangled toys. I can’t keep up with them.’ She’s putting her hand into her pocket. ‘Here, for you. Calennig for a happy new year. It’s a bit early, but it’ll still bring you luck.’ She’s holding a silver coin. It’s like the ones we have in school. The ones that have a number fifty on them. She’s holding it through the hedge. ‘Come on, take it. It’s yours.’

  I am stepping towards the hedge again. I’m taking the coin. It’s not like the ones in school. They aren’t heavy. ‘Thank you.’ I’m taking a step back again now. I want to know what’s inside my Santa Sack.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ the lady says. ‘I’ve got something else for you. Stay there.’ She’s going up her path. She’s pushing her climbing frame and she’s going very slowly.

  I’m waiting and I am trying not to take another step back. I am waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. And the path is making my toes very cold.

  The lady next door is coming back. She’s holding something. It’s a long yellow triangle box. ‘Here, lovely chocolate for you.’ She’s poking the box through the hole in the hedge. ‘I won it at bingo.’ She’s shaking the box at me now. ‘But I can’t eat it, too hard for me. Too chunky. All those corners. You’ll enjoy it, though. You’ve got your own teeth.’

  I’m taking the box. It’s quite heavy and there’s something slip sliding about inside it. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Thank you very much.’

  ‘Haven’t you got nice manners?’ The lady is smiling at me.

  I am saying, ‘Thank you’ again. I’m taking a step backwards.

  ‘That’s what our Jason needs. Manners. I keep telling Moira.’

  I am taking another step backwards.

  ‘Well, I’ll be off,’ the lady says. ‘It’s cold out here.’ She’s turning her climbing frame. ‘Nice to chat.’

  I’m taking a lot of steps backwards. ‘Merry Christmas,’ I say. ‘Merry Christmas, one and all!’

  And I am running to the front door. I’m holding the box and the coin tight and I am closing the front door behind me. I’m running past the front room and up the stairs to my bedroom. I’m running and running and running and running. All the way to my Santa Sack.

  * * *

  I have been playing with my truck for a long time. The truck that was in the Santa Sack. It’s a tipper truck. It has a tippy bit on the back and it is red with black wheels. The black wheels have shiny silver bits in the middle. On the box it says SUPER TRUCK and it is a super truck. It is the best truck I have ever seen. The best one that isn’t real. I’m pushing it in its box because I can’t get it out. The wheels are stuck tight to the cardboard. I’m pushing my truck in the box round and round my bedroom and I’m pushing it under my train table and on my train table and up my ladder and over my bed and down my ladder and over the floor.

  ‘Why you still up?’

  Mammy is by my door. I didn’t hear her come in.

  ‘Look,’ I say. ‘This was in my Santa Sack.’

  Mammy is looking a bit. ‘Yeah good.’ She’s holding her shoes. Her toes are very dirty.

  ‘Mammy can you help me? I can’t get my truck out of—’

  ‘Ge’ to bed,’ she says.

  I can hear Brick downstairs in the kitchen. He’s opening the drawers. ‘All the forks are dirty.’ He’s shouting it from the kitchen. They’ve brought a takeaway home with them. I can smell it. It smells like the silver trays on the kitchen floor. The ones that have yellow and orange puddles in them.

  My tummy is making a big rumbly noise. ‘Did you get chips?’

  ‘No,’ Mammy says. ‘I’ll be there now!’ She’s shouting that to Brick.

  I’m standing up. I’m going to my ladder. ‘My truck is stuck in the box.’

  ‘Ge’ to bed,’ she says. ‘I’m starvin’.’

  I’m at the bottom of my ladder and I’m holding my truck so Mammy can see. ‘It’s these.’ I am pointing to the back of the box. ‘I can’t get them off.’

  ‘Ge’ to bed,’ she says. ‘Now.’

  I am going up my ladder fast. I’m taking my Super Truck with me. Mammy is putting my light out. She’s closing my door.

  I am looking for the box the lady next door gave me. It’s under the clothes on my bed. I have had two bits of the chocolate inside it already. They were big chocolate triangles and they were lovely. I am breaking off another triangle. It is quite hard to break. I’m putting it in my mouth. It’s very chocolatey. I’m putting my truck next to me in bed and I am finding the silver coin the lady next door gave me. It’s under my pile of clothes on the bed. I’m putting the coin in the back of my truck. It’s special cargo. I like the word cargo. It’s one of Dat’s special words. Car-go. I’m putting the silver paper from the chocolate into the tipper bit of my truck too.

  I am pulling my pile of clothes all round me. The chocolate is getting soft in my mouth. Mammy is home and I am very sleepy and I have a lovely new red truck.

  * * *

  I am in the front room. I have been watching telly with Mammy. We are on the settee. We’ve been watching Murder, She Wrote. Mammy is starting to wake up.

  ‘It was the lady,’ I say. ‘The one with the hat.’

  ‘You wharr?’ Mammy is having a big yawn. She’s stretching her arms now.

  ‘The lady put something in the man’s drink. Jessica said.’

  Brick has come down from the bathroom. He’s picking me up and putting me on the floor. He’s sitting down next to Mammy. ‘When’s the kid back in school?’ he says.

  I’m getting my truck. It’s behind the chair.

  ‘Don’ know,’ Mammy says.

  ‘Tuesday,’ I say. ‘The lady next door told me.’ I’m pushing my truck round the carpet. I’m picking up all the little bits of wallpaper and I’m putting them in the tipper part. ‘When is it Tuesday?’

  Mammy and Brick haven’t heard me. I’m pushing my truck over to the settee. I am pushing it up onto my green box that I was a present in. I’m pushing it past my shiny label. I am reading the words ‘To Mammy, Love from Tomos’ and I’m pushing it to the top of my box. I’m pushing it round the tins Mammy and Brick have left on top of it.

  There’s a lot of knocking on the front door. I’m running behind the big black chair. I’m taking my truck with me. There’s more knocking. I am peeping out with one eye. Brick is looking out of the window.

  ‘Saint!’ Brick is shouting it. He’s opening the front door. A man is coming in. He’s got a bag on his back. He’s holding a lot of tins. He has some in one hand. He has some in his other hand. He’s holding them up. He’s waving them. He’s doing a sort of dance.

  ‘Saint, man,’ Brick says. He’s doing a sort of dance too. ‘Look, Ree. Saint’s yerr!’

  I’m watching Mammy with my one eye. She’s looking at the man called Saint. ‘I can see that.’ She’s not smiling. She says. ‘Righ’ Dewi?’ She’s watching telly again now.

  ‘Happy new year to you, too, Ree,’ Saint says. He’s giving the tins to Brick.

  ‘Wha’s all this?’

  ‘We’re celebrating,’ Saint says. ‘I made it big.’ He’s laughing. He’s taking a tin from Brick and he’s opening it. Brick’s laughing now. He’s putting the tins down in a pile on the floor. He’s opening one too. They’re banging their tins together. Yellow stuff is sloshing out. They’re laughing and laughing. Mammy is turning up the telly.

  ‘Tell me ’bout it, man,’ Brick says.

  ‘Okay,’ Saint says. ‘But I’m starving. Make me a bacon butty, Ree.’ He’s putting his bag on the carpet and he’s sitting down next to Mammy.

  ‘No bread. No bacon,’ she says. She’s still watching telly.

  Saint is g
etting something out of his pocket. It is a little plastic bag. It’s got a bit of white stuff in it. He’s waving the bag at Mammy. She’s stopped watching telly. She’s watching the bag instead. She’s lifting up her hand. Saint is moving the bag fast. He’s putting it back in his pocket.

  ‘See, Ree. You be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.’ He’s getting something else out of his pocket. It’s a big lump of money. He’s opening it up. He’s giving Mammy some purple money. ‘Nip to Spar, cariad. Bread and bacon. Get brown sauce too. And rum and Coke for yourself. You can keep the change. Then I’ll give you what you really want.’ He’s smiling at Mammy.

  Mammy’s looking at Saint. She’s looking at the money. She’s taking it fast. She’s putting her boots on and she’s tucking her pyjamas into them. She’s putting on Brick’s jumper.

  ‘Ge’ me some vodka,’ Brick says. ‘And some fags.’

  ‘No chance,’ Mammy says. She’s going out of the door.

  I’m running out from behind the chair. ‘Get me some…’ I say. But I don’t know what I want her to get me. Mammy has shut the door. I’m too late.

  ‘Is that Ree’s kid?’ Saint says. He’s looking and looking at me.

  Brick is nodding.

  ‘He’s a funny little thing, in’t he?’ Saint says. ‘Got brown eyes like his father.’

  ‘Who’s tha’ then?’ Brick says. He’s looking at me too now.

  Saint’s laughing. ‘Who do you know with eyes like that, man?’

  ‘Don’ know,’ Brick says. ‘Loads o’ people.’

  Saint’s calling me with his hand. ‘Dere ’ma, bach.’ He’s still looking and looking at me. I’m running back behind the chair. I’m running fast. I am running back to my truck. Saint is laughing a lot now. ‘Hasn’t Ree told you who his father is?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Brick says. ‘Some boy back in ’er foster place. Buggered off when she got pregnant.’

  ‘Some boy?’ Saint’s laughing.

  ‘Yeah,’ Brick says. ‘Norr really interested anyway.’

  Saint’s still laughing. I’m peeping out from behind the chair. ‘You would be if you knew.’ He’s taking a big drink from his tin.

  ‘So tell me wha’s been ’appening, man,’ Brick says. ‘Where you been?’

  ‘Scotland,’ Saint says. ‘Got a contact in Glasgow now. Can’t believe my luck. There’s loads of stuff there, just waiting to be picked up. You should try it.’ Saint is tipping his tin right up. He’s squashing it in his hand and he’s throwing it onto the carpet. Brick is doing the same. They’re opening more tins.

  ‘Hell of a long way to go,’ Brick says. He’s taking a drink from his tin.

  ‘No, I mean it,’ Saint says. ‘It got a bit dodgy when I was there. I had to come home fast, like. Can’t go back myself for a while. But I can give you my contact, cut you in. You should do it.’ He’s taking something out of his bag. ‘Do me a favour, Brick.’ He’s holding up a block. It’s got plastic all round it. Like the plastic Nanno uses when she puts things in the fridge. ‘Keep this for me, just for a while, ’til things calm down a bit.’ He’s giving the block to Brick. ‘And you’ll get paid.’ He’s laughing. ‘So long as you don’t let Ree find it.’

  Brick is holding the block. He’s looking and looking at it. He’s turning it round and round. He’s saying a rude word. He’s saying it very quietly. ‘Saint, man, is this the stuff from Glasgow?’

  ‘Only some of it,’ Saint says. ‘See what I mean? I can give you the contacts. You can make the money if you want, and cut me in.’ He’s tapping the block. ‘You keep that safe for me for a bit, and I’ll see what I can do. But find somewhere to hide it before Ree comes back.’

  ‘I gorr a place I ’ide stuff,’ Brick says. ‘Righ’ under her nose.’ He’s laughing.

  ‘That’s good,’ Saint says. He’s laughing too. ‘Cos if she does find it. Or if you lose it or someone nicks it. Or if you decide to sell it to those…’ He’s saying a lot of rude words ‘… suppliers of yours, I’ll break your legs.’ He’s smiling and smiling at Brick. ‘Or worse.’

  Brick is holding up his hands. ‘Saint, you know me. You can trust me. I swear.’

  ‘Course I can,’ Saint says. He’s laughing again. ‘Only kidding.’ He’s hitting Brick’s tummy a bit. Tap tap tap. ‘Better go hide it quick ’fore she comes back.’

  Brick is taking the block and he’s going out of the front room. He’s running up the stairs.

  I’m peeping out from behind the chair.

  Saint is looking at me. ‘Hello, little Fly.’ He is saying it quietly. He’s smiling. ‘Come on out. Let’s see you properly.’

  I am not going out. I’m not looking at him anymore. I’m playing with my truck.

  Brick is running back downstairs. ‘She’ll never find it there. She don’ know you can pull up the floorboard by the window in ’er bedroom.’

  ‘So what do you think, Brick?’ Saint says. ‘You interested in doing a job for me? It won’t be for a few months. Needs to calm down a bit first.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Brick says. He’s nodding his head. ‘But I’d have to be careful, like, cos of Fly. He won’ like me getting my stuff from someone else.’

  ‘That English tosser don’t need to know,’ Saint says. ‘And it’d be good money for you.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Brick says. ‘Yeah, why not? I could do with the money.’

  Saint’s laughing. ‘You could always do with the money, Brick.’ He’s squashing his tin and he’s laughing again. ‘You could always do with the money.’

  * * *

  Saint is talking and talking. Brick is saying, ‘Yeah, I could. Yeah, yeah’ all the time. They’re drinking lots and lots of the tins.

  Mammy’s coming in and she’s got a carrier bag.

  ‘’bout time,’ Brick says.

  I’m coming out from behind the chair. I’m going to see what’s in the bag. Mammy’s pushing me away and she’s going into the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll have my bacon crispy,’ Saint says. He’s shouting it to Mammy in the kitchen. ‘And loads of brown sauce.’

  ‘An’ me,’ Brick’s shouting.

  ‘And me,’ I say.

  I’m watching Mammy. She’s taking things out of the bag. She’s got bread and bacon and some bottles. She’s tipping the bacon into the frying pan. It’s making a lot of noise. It’s making a lovely smell too. I am smelling and smelling it. It’s like the smell in Nanno and Dat’s kitchen sometimes. I am dancing to the smell of the bacon.

  ‘Ou’ the way,’ Mammy says. She’s pushing me away from the cooker. ‘Stupid kid.’

  I’m going to the other side of the kitchen but I’m still dancing. The smell is making my tummy hungry and it’s making my tongue lick my lips. Mammy’s wiping three plates with the sleeve on her pyjamas. She’s putting bread onto the plates. She’s putting bacon on the bread now and she’s putting more bread on top. My tummy is making a loud noise.

  ‘Brown sauce,’ I say.

  Mammy is looking at me. ‘Wha’?’

  ‘We want brown sauce, please.’

  Mammy’s putting brown sauce in the sandwiches. She’s picking up the plates. She has one in one hand and she has two in the other hand. She’s going into the front room. I am going too and I’m sitting down fast fast on the floor and I’m holding up my hands and I’m waiting for my plate.

  She’s giving a plate to Saint and she’s giving a plate to Brick. I’m waiting for my plate. She’s sitting down and she’s putting the last plate on her lap. It’s not a plate for me. It’s a plate for her.

  Mammy is taking a bite of her sandwich. It’s a big bite. Brick and Saint are taking bites of their sandwiches too.

  ‘Mammy,’ I say. ‘Have I got a sandwich?’

  Saint is looking at me. ‘Didn’t you make one for the kid?’ He’s saying it through the sandwich in his mouth.

  ‘He’s ’ad ’is dinner,’ Mammy says. She’s taking another big bite.

  I am thinking about the dinner I had. I am thinking and
thinking. I think it was a blue packet of crisps.

  ‘Make him one,’ Saint says. ‘He looks half starved. Are you hungry, bach?’

  I’m nodding. I am looking at the sandwich on his plate. It looks very yummy. My tummy is making loud noises.

  ‘I used all the bacon,’ Mammy says. She’s picking up a bottle and she’s tipping something into her mug.

  ‘Give him some bread then, and some sauce,’ Saint says. ‘And some of your Coke.’

  ‘In a minute.’ She’s finishing her sandwich.

  ‘Duw, you’re a heartless cow, mind Ree,’ Saint says. He’s looking at me now. ‘Dere, bach. Come to Dewi.’ He’s calling me with his hand.

  I’m going over to him slowly. He’s pulling a bit of bread off his sandwich and he’s giving it to me. I’m putting it in my mouth. I can taste a bit of the brown sauce on the bread. And a bit of the bacon. It’s a lovely taste. My mouth is all watery. Saint’s picking up a mug. He’s picking it up off the floor. He’s tipping some cola into it and he’s holding it out to me.

  ‘There,’ he says. ‘Dewi will look after you, see?’

  I’m taking the mug but I’m not drinking the cola.

  ‘The kid’s got brown eyes like his father.’ Saint’s saying it to Mammy.

  ‘How would you know?’ Her face is very cross. ‘You never even seen ’is father.’

  ‘Course I have,’ Saint says. He’s laughing. ‘Everyone knows who his father is.’

  I’m holding the mug but I’m not drinking the cola. I’m not drinking it yet. I am trying to keep the bacon taste. I am trying to keep it in my mouth for a long time.

  ‘Shurr up, Dewi,’ she says. ‘You’re talking crap as usual.’ She’s finding another programme to watch on the telly.

  ‘Don’t you want your drink?’ Saint says. He’s looking at me again now. ‘Don’t you like Coke? You’re not like your mother then. She loves her coke.’ He’s laughing and his laugh is very loud.

  Brick’s laughing too. ‘Good one, Saint.’

  ‘Ha blurry ha,’ Mammy says. ‘Tha’ reminds me.’ She’s holding out her hand to Saint.