Not Thomas

by Sara Gethin

  * * *

  I am in class and I’m helping Miss with her sandwiches. All the other children have gone home but Kaylee hasn’t. She’s watching telly with me. She’s eating a chocolate biscuit. It’s the one from Miss’s packed lunch. I have shared it with her.

  Miss is talking to Kaylee’s mammy. ‘Oh, your poor mum, Karen. How long do you think you’ll be looking after her?’

  ‘I told her we’ll stay for all of the Easter holidays,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘Until school starts again.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Miss says. ‘It’ll give her a chance to get sorted.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘Not that she’s grateful. She says it’s not long enough. The thing is, I’m a bit worried cos…’ She’s looking over at Kaylee and me. ‘I won’t be able to keep an eye on the house.’ Her voice has gone very quiet.

  ‘I’m going away as well,’ Miss says. Her voice is very quiet too. It’s hard to hear her. ‘Colin says we need a holiday. He’s booked us two weeks in the Lake District. I really don’t want to go, but he says I’m stressed.’ Miss is laughing. Her laugh sounds very sad. ‘I’m even more stressed at the thought of going away and not being able to check on…’ She’s looking at me and Kaylee.

  I’m smiling at Miss. She’s smiling back at me. ‘You two okay over there?’ She’s saying it loud.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ It’s hard to talk with my mouth full. Kaylee and me are watching a funny programme. It has a blue dog in it.

  ‘I’m going to stay at Granny’s,’ Kaylee says. She’s shouting it to Miss and she’s jumping on the cushions.

  ‘Well, isn’t that lovely?’ Miss says. ‘Enjoy the programme now, while your mum and I have a chat.’

  Kaylee’s mammy says, ‘I know I’m not allowed to ask, really.’ She’s saying it very quietly. ‘But did Mr Griffiths have a word with social services?’

  ‘Yes.’ Miss is very quiet too. ‘They said they’d checked on him recently and he was doing okay.’

  ‘Maybe they’re right then. Maybe his mother’s coping.’

  Miss is shaking her head. I can see her from the side of my eye. ‘The thing is, if I hadn’t fed him, and bought him a new school uniform and kept washing his old one, he wouldn’t have been looked after at all. I’m afraid I’m doing more harm than good.’ She’s biting her lip.

  ‘What else can you do? You can’t let him starve. You can’t let him stink of wee all the time.’

  I’m giving Kaylee one of the sandwiches now. We’re still watching the funny programme and I’m watching Miss a bit too. She’s shaking her head. ‘I should just let social services deal with it, like Colin says. But it’d break my heart if something happened to him.’

  ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

  ‘And what really worries me, Karen, is – who goes to that house? What goes on there? My mother didn’t look after me properly. She didn’t always feed me or wash my clothes.’ Miss is blowing out a big breath. ‘But it was just me and her. No one else came round. There weren’t any other alcoholics in the house. There weren’t any…’ Her voice is very very quiet now. ‘Drugs. I’m worried about what he sees.’

  ‘Has he said anything ’bout what goes on? Has he said anything ’bout…’ Kaylee’s mammy’s voice is very very quiet now too. ‘Her boyfriend or his friends?’

  ‘No. He doesn’t mention them. He talks mostly about…’

  It’s very hard to hear Miss. I’m listening and listening and listening. I think she just said, ‘Nannette and Dafydd’. I am trying to listen very very hard now. I want to hear what Miss is saying about Nanno and Dat.

  Miss says, ‘He doesn’t have any bruises or anything. I check when he gets changed into the clean clothes I bring him.’ She’s putting her hand over her mouth. I can see her from the side of my eye. ‘Oh, Karen. It’s really unprofessional of me to talk like this. Please don’t repeat it to anyone else.’

  ‘I won’t.’ Kaylee’s mammy is rubbing Miss’s arm. ‘God’s honour.’

  Miss is getting a tissue from the box. And I am waiting and waiting for her to say something about Nanno and Dat. ‘I can’t talk to Colin about it.’ She is very very quiet. ‘And I don’t want to land Ree in trouble by going to the Head every two minutes. But I feel like I can talk to you, because you know Tomos. And you know Ree, too.’

  The blue dog is taking a man for a walk. The man is chasing a cat. But I’m not really watching him. I’m watching Miss with the side of my eye. Because she has said my name and Mammy’s name. And I’m listening hard to Miss.

  ‘Granny used to have a cat.’ Kaylee’s saying it to me. She’s got a lot of sandwich in her mouth. ‘It got squashed on the road.’

  ‘Look, you’re making sure he’s fed and you’re checking he’s not getting knocked about,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘What else can you do?’

  Miss is shaking her head again. ‘But the Easter holiday’s worrying me. Two whole weeks without school. You know what he looked like after Christmas.’

  I’m listening and listening. I’m wondering what Miss is talking about. And I’m waiting for her to say Nanno and Dat’s names again. I’m waiting for her to say Mammy’s name. And my name.

  Kaylee’s mammy’s biting her lip. ‘I know. He was so skinny. But then if social services have been round… God, Lowri, I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I’ll try and persuade Colin that it would be best to stay home. He won’t like it, though. He’s determined I shouldn’t get involved.’ Miss is biting her lip. ‘I’m beginning to think he’s right.’

  There’s another programme on telly now. ‘I like this,’ Kaylee says. ‘It’s got a spaceship in it and aliens.’ She’s jumping up and down on the cushions again. And she’s singing the song. The one on the telly.

  ‘I wish I hadn’t taken the job now,’ Miss says. She is very very quiet. I’m listening hard. ‘I knew he was in this school. I shouldn’t have put myself in this situation.’

  ‘At least you can help him,’ Kaylee’s mammy says, ‘because you’re his teacher.’

  ‘But I can’t, that’s the problem. I can’t help him. Not enough, anyway.’ She’s getting another tissue from the box on her desk. She’s wiping her eyes. Kaylee’s mammy is rubbing Miss’s arm again.

  I’m looking at the funny people on the programme. And I’m trying to listen to Miss. I am wondering if she’s going to say Ree again. Or Nannette or Dafydd. Or Tomos. It’s hard to listen because Kaylee’s still singing. I want to hear what Miss says. And I want Miss to stop crying.

  She’s throwing the tissues in the bin. ‘I’ve got to pull myself together.’ She’s getting more tissues and she’s blowing her nose. She’s standing up straight. ‘I better let you go. You must have lots to do before you go away.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve got washing to pick up. It costs loads to use the laundrette, but it’s been too wet to dry our stuff on the line.’

  ‘You’ll be away for the whole two weeks then, Karen.’

  Kaylee’s mammy’s nodding. ‘I don’t know if she’ll be okay on her own after that, but Kaylee needs to get back to school. My mother’ll complain though. She’ll want me to stay. She don’t think school’s important.’

  ‘A broken hip,’ Miss says. ‘That must be painful.’

  Kaylee’s mammy is making a blowy sound with her mouth. ‘It’s her own fault. Shouldn’t drink so much.’ She’s looking at Miss. ‘You know what it’s like. You try your best to make them change…’

  The aliens are dancing on telly. Kaylee’s standing up. She’s dancing too. Miss is shaking her head. ‘All you can do is try to help, but it’s hard.’ She’s putting her hand on Kaylee’s mammy’s arm. ‘They have to want to change.’ Miss is smiling a bit now. It’s nice to see her smiling again. ‘You know, Kaylee’s lucky to have you as her mum. You’ll never do to her what your mother did to you.’ She’s shaking her head again. ‘And what my mother did to me. You’re taking responsibility. You’re being Kaylee’s parent, instead of Kaylee having
to be yours. You’re doing your best for her.’

  Kaylee’s mammy is rubbing her cheeks. Miss is giving her a hug. ‘Well, I’m not looking forward to staying in my mother’s house for two weeks,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘And I’ve said if she starts on the vodka, we’re coming straight home. I don’t want Kaylee seeing her like that.’

  ‘No, you’re right. But I’m sure she’ll behave herself. She’ll be grateful to have you there. She’s so far away from you now. Manchester, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Kaylee’s mammy says. ‘Takes ages to get there on the coach but the train costs way too much.’

  ‘Oh well. I hope it goes okay for you. See you after the holidays.’

  ‘And I hope you enjoy yourself,’ Kaylee’s mammy says, ‘if you do go to the Lake District. It’s supposed to be nice there.’

  ‘Oh, it is,’ Miss says. ‘It’s beautiful. But I really don’t want to go. We can’t even afford it. And with all the worry…’ She’s shaking her head.

  She’s looking over at us now. She’s calling Kaylee. ‘Oh, Miss,’ Kaylee says. She’s stopped dancing. ‘This is my favourite programme.’

  ‘No arguing,’ her mammy says. ‘We’ve got to go. I’ve got loads to do before we go to Granny’s.’ Kaylee’s going to her mammy. She’s still saying she wants to watch the programme. ‘You’ve got the DVD of this at home anyway,’ her mammy says. She’s waving to me. I’m waving back. ‘Look after yourself, Tomos.’

  ‘See you after the holidays,’ Kaylee says. She’s waving too. I am trying to answer them. I’m trying but my mouth is full of sandwich. I’m waving and waving instead. They’re going out of the classroom.

  Miss is rubbing her face. She looks very tired. She looks very sad too. ‘Did you enjoy those tuna sandwiches, Tomos?’ I’m nodding. ‘Good. Eat everything else in that lunch box too, and then we’ll see about some packets of biscuits, like the ones I gave you for half term. Do you remember? There was one for each day.’

  I’m nodding again. I’m swallowing the bits of sandwich. ‘The biscuits were nice,’ I say. ‘Shall I put them up my jumper, like I did last time?’

  ‘Yes,’ Miss says. She’s smiling a bit but her eyes look very very sad. ‘I think you better had.’

  Easter Holidays

  It’s the school holidays. I’ve eaten two of the biscuits Miss gave me. I’m eating one every night like Miss said. And I’m thinking about the biscuits now. I am thinking about eating one later. When I’m in bed. And my tummy is making rumbly noises.

  I’m on the settee next to Mammy. Brick is on the other side of her. We’re watching people shouting on EastEnders and I’m driving my truck up the back of the settee and all the little bits of wallpaper are falling out of the tippy bit. I’m picking them up and I’m putting them back in and I’m driving my truck on the arm of the settee and over my legs and onto Mammy’s legs.

  Brick is drinking from a tin. Mammy’s trying to take it from him. ‘You’ve ’ad loads already,’ he says. He’s pulling the tin back. Some of the yellow stuff inside has spilt out. It’s gone on Mammy’s pyjamas and on my truck. Mammy’s shouting at Brick. Her words are all slippy slidey.

  There’s a lot of banging on the front door. I’m jumping off the settee. I’m running to hide. I’m running behind the big black chair. I’m taking my truck.

  ‘Saint said he might come over,’ Brick says. He’s going to the door. I can see him through the gap behind the chair.

  I’m hoping and hoping and hoping it’s Saint knocking on the door because Saint might give Mammy money for the shop again. And she might get bacon and bread and make sandwiches and she might make one for me this time.

  Brick is opening the door a bit and I’m watching him with my one eye and I’m hoping and hoping that Saint is knocking the door.

  Brick is saying ‘What th…’

  Someone is pushing the door from outside. It’s not Saint. It’s the man with spiky hair. He’s pushing the door open. He’s grabbing Brick’s shoulders. He’s pushing him backwards. He’s pushing him all the way back into the front room. He’s shouting at Brick. He’s shouting the word money a lot. He’s pushing Brick up against the wall.

  The man with the web tattoo is coming in now. He’s closing the front door. He’s coming into the front room. ‘You’re always late with your payments, Brick,’ he says. He’s very loud. ‘But now you’re taking the proverbial.’ He’s looking at Mammy. He’s looking at her sitting on the settee. I’m watching him with one of my eyes. He’s smiling at Mammy. His web tattoo is stretching. ‘Glad you’re in, Ree.’ He’s going to the settee. He’s kicking all the tins with his shoe. They’re rolling on the carpet. ‘I was hoping you’d be here.’

  He’s pulling Mammy up from the settee. Her legs are wobbly. She’s trying to say something to him. Her words don’t sound right. She’s trying to hit him. She’s trying and trying. He’s grabbing her arms. He’s calling Mammy a lot of rude names. He’s pushing her. He’s pushing her against the wall by the window. He says, ‘You always had a lot of fight in you, Ree.’ He’s squashing her against the wall. He’s squeezing her face with his hand. ‘You were a pretty kid. Always dressed so cute. Remember that mini skirt your mother used to make you wear?’ He’s laughing. ‘Your looks have gone now though.’ Mammy’s trying to kick him. She’s trying and trying. But he’s moving away from her feet. ‘You’re getting a bit old for me and you look wasted, but you’ll do for tonight.’ He’s pulling at her clothes. He’s pushing down her pyjama bottoms. He’s pushed them to her knees. He’s lifting one of his big boots. He’s pushing her pyjamas down with his boot. They are round her feet now. He’s squashing and squashing her against the wall.

  Mammy’s trying to hit him. She’s trying and trying. But he’s holding her too tight. ‘Not with my boy ’ere,’ she says. Her words have stopped being slidey. They are not slidey at all.

  ‘What, you got standards, Ree?’ the man says. ‘Not like your mother. She never used to care who watched, so long as she got her fix afterwards.’

  Mammy is spitting at the man. There’s spit on his web tattoo. He’s rubbing his face. ‘Bitch.’ He’s hitting Mammy’s cheek. He’s hitting it hard.

  I am running out from behind the big chair. I’m running across the front room. I am running to Mammy. ‘Leave her alone.’ I’m holding onto Mammy’s leg.

  Mammy is looking down at me. Her cheek is very red. She looks cross. ‘Go to bed,’ she says. ‘Now.’

  The man with the web tattoo is looking down at me too. He’s showing me his teeth. Some of them are brown. One of them is gold. He’s holding Mammy’s neck with a big hand. He’s moving the other hand fast. He’s reaching out with it. He’s grabbing my tee shirt. He’s twisting it. He’s lifting me up. ‘Stupid brat.’ My tee shirt is very tight under my arms and round my neck. It’s hurting me. He’s pushing me away from him. He’s letting go of me. I’m bouncing onto the carpet. I’m sliding. The carpet is rubbing my side. It’s hurting a lot.

  I have stopped by the man with spiky hair. I’ve stopped by his feet. He’s holding Brick. He’s holding him against the wall by the door. I’m looking up at his hands. One hand is holding Brick’s neck. The other hand is holding a big knife. It’s shiny and curvy. He’s pushing the knife under Brick’s chin.

  My tee shirt is rolled up round my neck. I’m turning over. My side is stinging because of the carpet. I’m saying ‘Nine-nine-nine-emergency.’ I am saying it very quietly. ‘Nine-nine-nine-emergency. Nine-nine-nine-emergency.’ It’s what Dat told me. ‘If there’s an accident,’ he said, ‘or if there’s an emergency, call nine-nine-nine on the phone.’ We haven’t got a phone. Only Mammy’s little one. And I don’t know where that is. And Dat’s phone is a long way away.

  The man with the web tattoo is pulling Mammy. He’s pulling her away from the wall.

  ‘Go to your room, Tomos,’ she says. ‘Now.’

  He’s pushing her to the settee. Mammy’s pyjama bottoms have come off her feet. They’re on the fl
oor. He’s pushing her over the arm of the settee. He’s squashing her face into the cushions.

  ‘Go,’ she says. ‘Go.’ Her voice sounds funny because of the settee. ‘Go to your room, Tomos.’ But I can’t go to my room. The man with spiky hair is in the way. He’s by the door. The door to the hall.

  I’m going back behind the big chair instead. I’m going on my knees and on my hands. I’m going as fast as I can. And I’m not peeping out.

  Mammy is saying a lot of rude words.

  ‘You always had a foul mouth,’ the man says. He sounds like he’s been running. ‘Keep it up, Ree. Dirtier the better.’ Mammy is quiet now. I am waiting and waiting for the man to stop making the noises. I’m waiting and waiting for the noises to stop. I’m waiting and waiting with my hands over my ears. I’m waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

  The noises have stopped. The man with the web tattoo is letting out a big breath. ‘I’d say it was like old times, Ree. But I liked it better when you were young.’

  I am peeping out. I’m peeping out a tiny bit. The man is doing up his trousers. Mammy is pushing herself up from the settee. She’s trying to hit the man. He’s moving away from her. Mammy is bending down. She’s grabbing her boot. It’s next to the settee. She’s getting something out of the pocket.

  The man is very fast. He’s kicking Mammy’s hand. He’s kicking it hard. Something is flying into the air. He’s grabbing Mammy’s hair. He’s twisting it. He’s pulling her away from the settee. He’s grabbing her neck again. He’s holding her up to the wall. ‘Think you can pull a knife on me, do you, Ree?’ He’s pushing his face up to her face. ‘Do you?’ He’s calling Mammy a lot of rude names again. He’s grabbing her under her chin. He’s lifting her up by her neck. He’s sliding her up the wall. Her legs are kicking. They’re kicking and kicking against the wall.