Not Thomas

by Sara Gethin

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘Cos if she does see you, she’ll go mental.’

  Miss says, ‘I’ll stop before the gate.’

  I’m looking at the smelly sandwiches. I don’t know if I want to help Miss with them. I had five dinosaur chickens for lunch. Three for firsts and two for seconds. And I had beans and chips too. I’m only a little bit hungry now.

  ‘That boy is funny,’ Kaylee says. She’s pointing to the boy on the telly. His name is Norman and he’s in a go-cart. He’s going very very fast.

  ‘And I’ll do the same tomorrow and Friday,’ Miss is saying. ‘I want to make sure he’s had plenty to eat before the weekend.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘That’s good.’

  Norman has fallen out of the go-cart. He’s fallen into the sea. Kaylee is laughing and laughing. I’m laughing too. And I’m listening to Miss talking.

  ‘I had a shock when I saw him after the Christmas holidays,’ she says. She’s very quiet now. It’s hard to hear her because of the telly. And because of Kaylee laughing.

  ‘Yeah.’ Kaylee’s mammy is very quiet too. ‘I know. Looked like he hadn’t been fed for the whole two weeks. And his clothes were so dirty. He smelt terrible.’

  ‘I’ve found him some clean trousers in lost property,’ Miss says. ‘They’re just like his own, so hopefully she won’t notice I’ve swapped them.’

  Fireman Sam is driving his truck now. He’s going to help Norman. He’s going fast fast. Fireman Sam’s truck is red like my truck. I like Fireman Sam and his truck.

  ‘She’ll never notice,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘He could go out butt naked and she wouldn’t have a clue.’

  ‘Well, I’ll keep his clothes clean.’ Miss is talking very quietly. ‘I’ll get him a school jumper, too. And some underwear.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have to do that.’

  ‘I know. But I can’t just look the other way. I told the Head I was worried. He’s ringing social services today. We’re all going to have to keep an eye.’ Miss is shutting a drawer in her desk. I’m wondering if she’s keeping an eye in there.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘Yeah.’

  Fireman Sam has stopped his truck. He’s going to help Norman get out of the water. Kaylee’s clapping and jumping up and down on the cushions.

  ‘It’s such a shame how things have turned out,’ Miss says. It is very very hard to hear her. ‘She’s being so difficult.’

  ‘She always was trouble,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘But I still used to like her.’

  ‘I know. Me too. She had attitude, that’s all. And you couldn’t really blame her after the kind of childhood she had.’

  Kaylee’s mammy’s nodding. ‘She used to be okay ’til she got into drugs and then she didn’t wanna know me no more.’ She’s shaking her head now. ‘We were fourteen with a baby each…and still she didn’t wanna know me.’

  ‘You could have supported each other so much,’ Miss says.

  ‘Could have been good…sharing stuff, doing things together. But she couldn’t care less about me by then.’ She’s nodding her head at Kaylee and me. ‘Or ’im.’

  ‘Well, I appreciate what you’re doing now, Karen, even if she doesn’t,’ Miss says. ‘And thanks for coming in. Like I say, I’ll make sure he’s fed and gets home safely for the rest of the week.’

  Miss is calling Kaylee. She’s running to her mammy. ‘Bye, Tomos,’ Kaylee and her mammy are saying. They’re waving to me and I’m waving to them. I’m waving with the sandwich I’m not eating. They’re going out of the door.

  Miss is coming over to the Quiet Corner again. She’s looking at the plastic tub and she’s looking at all the sandwiches in it. ‘Don’t you like them?’ She’s biting her lip and she looks sad.

  I don’t want Miss to look sad. I don’t want her to look sad at all. I’m taking a big bite from one of the smelly sandwiches and I am chewing it a bit. ‘Oh.’ I am saying it because the sandwich doesn’t taste smelly. It tastes lovely. I’ve got a lot of sandwich in my mouth and it’s hard to talk. I’m chewing and chewing and I’m swallowing the bit of sandwich. I’m smiling at Miss. ‘I thought it smelt funny, but it’s lovely.’ I’m taking another big bite.

  Miss doesn’t look sad now. ‘They’re tuna, mayo and sweetcorn. I’m glad you like them.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ I’m chewing and chewing. ‘I liked the egg sandwiches your husband made yesterday by mistake,’ I say. ‘But I like these better.’ I’m taking another big bite and the little yellow beans are popping in my mouth and they’re sweet and lovely.

  ‘Enjoy them.’ Miss is smiling.

  She’s going back to her desk and she’s picking up her pen and I’m watching Fireman Sam getting back into his red truck like my red truck and I’m taking another big bite of Miss’s sandwiches and I am chewing and chewing and chewing and chewing.

  * * *

  I’m up in my high sleeper bed. I am waiting to go to sleep. I have been waiting a long time. Mammy has taken my ladder away. She’s put it on the floor. I’m waiting to go to sleep. But I need the toilet. It’s not nice when I need the toilet. And my ladder is on the floor.

  I’m thinking about things that are nice. I’m thinking about the sandwiches Miss’s husband made by mistake today. I’m thinking about the yellow beans. And the way they popped in my mouth. I’ve had two chunks of chocolate tonight from the bar Kaylee’s mammy gave me. The chocolate was lovely but the sandwiches were nicer. And I’m thinking about the little pot of rice pudding.

  I’m thinking about Miss too. I’m thinking about us walking home from school and I’m remembering us walking down the road. Me and Miss. I’m remembering us stopping at next door’s gate and Miss saying I could run to our gate and she said, ‘See you tomorrow, Tomos,’ and I’m remembering her waving and smiling and I was waving and smiling too.

  I’m nearly smiling now. But it’s hard to smile when you need the toilet. I’m trying to listen for Brick’s car outside. And I’m trying to listen for Mammy opening the front door. I’m trying and trying. But I can’t hear them. And I want the toilet. I want it a lot.

  I’m trying to think about something else. About something that is nice. Something that is not the toilet. I’m trying to think about my truck. I’m trying to think that I am very small. I’m so small I can sit in my truck and I can drive it round and round and round and I can drive it down the path to the gate and I can show Kaylee and her mammy under their umbrellas and I can drive it all the way to school and I can show Miss and Seren and Eddie and Wes.

  Not Wes. I don’t want to think about Wes. I don’t want to think about Wes at all. I don’t want to think about the things he says. The horrible horrible things he says.

  And I don’t want to think about his Uncle Vic. I don’t want to think about him at all.

  * * *

  I’m running. I’m running down the road and it’s very dark and cold. I’m trying to get across to the other side. Because I need the toilet. And there’s a toilet on the other side of the road. But I can’t cross the road. The road won’t let me. It keeps tipping me back. And I need to get across.

  The road is changing. It’s getting blacker and blacker and wetter and wetter. It’s not a road now. It’s a river. And I need to cross it. I need to get to the toilet.

  There’s something on it. It’s floating down the river that was a road. It is big and pink. It’s stopping by me. I’m getting into it. It’s a big pink boat. It’s taking me across the river. It’s taking me across to the toilet.

  There’s something in the bottom of the boat. Something squidgy. It’s rice pudding. The boat is full of rice pudding. I’m grabbing it with my hands. I’m eating and eating the rice. And there is something else in the boat too. A big lump in the middle of the rice. And the lump is moving very slowly.

  And now Dat is here. I’m shouting, ‘Dat, Dat!’ He’s standing in the river and I am floating to him. I’m floating to him in the big pink boat. And I’m wa
ving and waving to him. But he’s not waving back. He’s holding something. It’s a big shiny saw. It’s the one he keeps in his shed.

  And the lump in the bottom of the boat is still moving. It’s turning and turning until it’s looking up at me. The lump has silver hair and pink cheeks. And it’s smiling up at me. It’s smiling from the bottom of the boat that is full of rice. Fat wriggly rice that is not rice at all. It is worms. Wriggly wriggly worms. The lump is smiling. It has pink cheeks and pink lips and silver hair and silver glasses. And the lump has worms coming out of its nose. Fat fat wriggly worms. They’re wriggling and wriggling over the lump. And now I see the lump has got Nanno’s face. The lump is Nanno’s head.

  I’m holding out my arms to Dat. I want him to pick me up. I want him to take me out of the boat. I want him to get me away from the worms. And Nanno’s head. And I need to go to the toilet.

  ‘Quick, quick, Dat. Help me, help me.’ But Dat looks cross. And then I remember. I’m not allowed to see him anymore.

  He’s waving his saw at me. He’s bending into the boat with the big saw. And my tummy is hurting. It’s hurting a lot. It’s hurting and hurting and hurting. And the tops of my legs are hot and wet. Something wet is running all over my legs. Because Dat’s big saw has cut me in two and I’m sitting up fast in the dark. And my legs and my bed are all wet wet wet. They’re all wet wet wet with wee.

  * * *

  I’m helping Miss. I’m helping her again. I’ve been helping her for a long time. For days and days and days and days. And days and days and days.

  I’m sitting in the Quiet Corner and I am eating her sandwiches. They’re ham sandwiches. Miss’s husband makes a lot of sandwiches by mistake but I don’t mind. I like helping Miss.

  Mrs Jones has come into class. She’s pulling a long hosepipe. It’s like the one Fireman Sam has got. There’s a funny box on the end of Mrs Jones’s hosepipe. It’s very noisy.

  I’m holding a sandwich. It’s the last one. I’m hiding it behind my back because we are not allowed to eat in class. Because of the rats.

  ‘It’s all right, Tomos bach,’ Mrs Jones says. She’s winking at me like Dat does sometimes. ‘You eat your sandwich and I’ll vacuum up the crumbs in a minute. We’ll keep those rats away.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Jones.’ It’s hard to say it with a lot of sandwich in my mouth. I’m watching a programme on telly. There’s a lady dancing. She’s singing too. Miss is standing on a chair. She’s putting pictures on the wall.

  ‘He’s a funny little thing, isn’t he?’ Mrs Jones is saying it quietly. It’s hard to hear her over the noise of her hosepipe.

  Miss is looking down at Mrs Jones from her chair. ‘A little old fashioned, maybe. I suppose it’s because he was brought up by an older couple.’

  Mrs Jones is nodding. ‘And he’s a credit to them, he’s so polite. His foster mother would turn in her grave if she knew what was happening now.’ She’s pushing her hosepipe round the chair that Miss is standing on. The hosepipe is cleaning up all the little bits on the carpet like Nanno’s vacuum cleaner does. ‘After all her and her husband did for that girl.’

  It’s hard to hear her over the singing on the telly. It’s hard to hear her over the noise from the box she’s pulling along. She’s looking up at the wall. ‘Down a bit on the left.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Miss says. She’s moving the picture down a bit.

  ‘And that little child, that poor dab,’ Mrs Jones is saying, ‘he’s stuck in the middle. The girl is using him, that’s all. Using him to get a house.’ She’s pushing her hosepipe under the table. ‘Oh, you’re all sorted if you’ve been in and out of care like her. Go straight to the top of the queue. And there’s my Nia and her Richard having to go to Llanelli because the rent’s cheaper, and been on the waiting list for two years in Carmarthen with no sniff of a council house.’ She’s pushing and pulling her hosepipe. ‘And that girl snaps her fingers and gets one the next day. I brought our Nia up too well. If I was a druggie or an alky, she’d have had a house by now.’

  Miss is trying to make the picture stick onto the wall. ‘I’m sure Nia wouldn’t swap her happy childhood for a council house,’ she says.

  Mrs Jones is looking up at Miss. ‘Oh, no. I’m sorry, Lowri…of course she wouldn’t. I didn’t mean to offend. When I said “alky” I wasn’t thinking of your—’

  ‘I know,’ Miss says. ‘Don’t worry, Vi. It’s fine.’

  A man is dancing with the lady on telly now. He’s not very good at dancing. The lady is trying to teach him but he’s not very good at learning. I’m getting the chocolate biscuit out of the plastic box. I’m saving the little pot of rice pudding for last.

  ‘And poor Nannette,’ Mrs Jones is saying. ‘Such a lovely woman. Such a shame about the cancer. It took her so quickly. And there’s Dafydd, left on his own. They gave up the fostering so that girl could stay there with her child. And fostering was their life.’

  ‘I know.’ Miss is getting down off the chair. ‘It’s a terrible shame.’

  I’m looking over at Mrs Jones fast fast. I’m looking over because I have heard her say two names I know. They are the names Nanno and Dat call each other. Nannette and Dafydd.

  I can only see Mrs Jones’s back but Miss is looking at me. ‘Are you okay there, Tomos?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ I’m saying it over the music on the telly. I’m saying it over the noise Mrs Jones’s hosepipe’s making.

  ‘Good,’ Miss says.

  Mrs Jones has turned round and she’s looking at me now. She’s smiling too.

  ‘We’d better be careful what we say.’ Miss is saying it to Mrs Jones. She’s saying it quietly. It’s very hard to hear her over the noises. ‘Better not use names.’

  I’m still looking at them and they’re still looking at me. They’re still smiling at me too. Miss is moving her chair to another bit of wall. ‘Have you eaten the rice pudding?’

  ‘Not yet. I’m saving it for last. It’s my favourite.’

  ‘Good,’ Miss says. ‘Enjoy it.’

  She’s getting back up on the chair. She’s holding another picture up against the wall. She’s looking at Mrs Jones. ‘To be honest, I think…’ She’s looking at me again. I can see her out of the side of my eye. ‘I’ll use initials,’ she says. ‘I think N’s death threw R.’ She’s saying it very quietly. ‘She was doing okay until then. A bit unreliable, maybe, but not totally off the rails.’

  ‘I think you’re being far too kind to her,’ Mrs Jones says. ‘I wouldn’t be.’

  ‘Well anyway.’ Miss is moving her chair again. ‘Did you know she’d planned her own funeral? N, I mean.’ Miss is still very quiet. I’m having to listen very hard. ‘You-know-who was supposed to sing.’

  The lady on telly has stopped teaching the man to dance. They’re getting into a funny car. The car is blue with pink flowers on it.

  ‘Her favourite hymn,’ Miss says. ‘“Calon Lân”. Not at the chapel, back at home afterwards.’

  The man can’t start the car. The lady’s having to push it. She’s getting very hot and cross.

  ‘That boy singing “Calon Lân”,’ Mrs Jones says. ‘Wouldn’t be a dry eye in the place.’

  Miss is climbing onto another chair. ‘She just wanted everyone to hear him. She was so proud of him.’

  ‘And to think that ungrateful girl wouldn’t let her see him,’ Mrs Jones is saying. ‘Not even at the end. Makes my blood boil.’

  I’m looking at Mrs Jones. I’m trying to see her blood boiling. I’m looking at her ears and her nose. I’m looking for smoke coming out of them. Like it comes out of the kettle when it’s boiling. Her face is quite red but I can’t see any smoke.

  ‘It’s just as well you’re here,’ Mrs Jones says. ‘It’s a real godsend you turning up. When is that Mrs Wright coming back?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Miss says. ‘She was supposed to be back after Christmas, but she’s got a doctor’s paper for another month now.’

  ‘It doesn’t surprise me.
She was in a terrible state before she went off sick.’ Mrs Jones is pushing and pulling her hosepipe again. ‘Perhaps she’ll take early retirement. I shouldn’t say it, but she’s a bit long in the tooth for kids now-a-days. ’

  I’m thinking about someone called Mrs Wright. She was my teacher when I came to this school. Before Miss came. Mrs Wright had grey hair like Nanno but she didn’t smile like her. She cried quite a lot. And she said Eddie was a horrible horrible child. I’m trying to remember Mrs Wright’s teeth. I’m trying to remember if they were long like Mrs Jones said.

  ‘Well, this supply work is perfect for you,’ she’s saying. ‘Funny you and him turning up here about the same time. Some would say it was meant to be. Nannette would have.’

  ‘Careful,’ Miss says. ‘No names.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Mrs Jones is putting her hand on her mouth. ‘It just slipped out.’

  I’m taking the little pot of rice pudding out of the box and I’m taking the top off it. I’m licking it.

  Mrs Jones is switching off her hosepipe. She’s standing up straight. ‘But she would have been proud of you, Lowri. Proud of what you’re doing.’ She’s rubbing her back. ‘He was a scrap of a thing after Christmas, and just look at him now – rosy cheeks and he’s filled out a good bit. God love you, girl.’ She’s taking the black bag out of the bin. ‘It’s a blessing, you turning up here.’ She’s saying it loud. ‘It was meant to be, and it’s a real blessing.’ She’s taking the bin bag out of the classroom and she’s closing the door behind her.

  I’m eating a big spoonful of rice. It’s yummy.

  Miss is shaking her head. ‘It doesn’t feel like a blessing.’ She’s saying it very quietly. It’s hard to hear her. She’s shaking her head again. She hasn’t seen Mrs Jones take the bag away. She hasn’t seen her go out of the door. She doesn’t know she’s talking to herself.

  ‘This last month,’ she says. She’s still shaking her head. ‘This last month, I’d say it’s been more like a curse.’

  * * *

  I am up in my high sleeper bed. I have been looking at my book from the library in school. It has pictures of flowers in it. And pictures of trees. It’s like Dat’s Big Book of Plants and the words are very hard. I’ve been singing some songs too. I’ve been singing ‘Away in a manger, no crib for a bed’. And ‘Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket’. Nanno taught me that song. I like singing it because it makes me think about Nanno.