Not Thomas

by Sara Gethin

  ‘Oh!’ Mammy isn’t there. Her bed is upside down. Upside down on the floor. A bit of it is broken. A bit of one of the legs. The bit of the leg is by the window. There’s red stuff on it. There’s red stuff on the carpet too. Lots of it. I can see a bit of something else. Something on the floor. Next to the bed. It’s got red in its hair. And all down its face. And a big red patch. On its tee shirt. Its mouth’s open. Its eyes are open too. And it’s looking at me. It’s looking. And looking. And looking.

  I’m closing Mammy’s door. I’m closing it fast. I’m closing it tight tight.

  My tummy feels funny. I’m going back to the bathroom. I’m splashing water on my face. The water’s going over Mammy’s things. And I’m trying not to touch them. I’m rubbing my face. I’m rubbing it dry on my jumper. I’m doing it fast fast. I’m brushing my hair. It’s hard to brush it. Mammy’s hairbrush keeps getting stuck. And I’m going downstairs. I’m going downstairs fast. It’s hard to go downstairs when your foot hurts. And your head is banging. And your tummy feels funny.

  Someone has made a big mess downstairs. The mess is all over the front room. The black chair is on its side. The settee is upside down. It’s all ripped. The big black chair is ripped too. All ripped and ripped. I can’t see the telly anywhere. And my box is squashed flat. Its green paper is all over the floor. The label is ripped too. The label that said, ‘To Mammy, Love from Tomos’. I am picking up the bits of label. I’m putting them in my pocket. I’m going to the window. And I am peeping out.

  I’m waiting for Kaylee and her mammy. I’m waiting for them to stop at our gate. I’m waiting to walk to school with them. I’m not watching for Mammy anymore. I don’t think Mammy’s going to come home. I think she must be a long way away. And I’m trying not to remember the thing in her room.

  The lady across the road is moving her curtains. I can see her looking at me. I’m not waving to her. I am not going to look at her. She’s moving and moving her white curtains. But I’m not looking at her at all. And my neck hurts. And my foot hurts. And my tummy feels funny.

  There are people walking up the road and down the road. There are cars too. Some of them are red. Some of them are black. Some of them are silver like Miss’s car. Like the car she had when she came here. When I was in the park with Wes. And one of the cars is blue like Brick’s car. Like his car parked outside our house. But I don’t want to think about Brick. I don’t want to think about him at all. And I can’t see Kaylee and her mammy. I think I might be too late. I think they might have gone to school. I think they might have gone when I was in bed.

  I don’t want to miss school. I’m going to go by myself. I’m going to the front door. The telly is in the hall. Someone has put it by the door. I’m going out. I’m closing the door behind me. I know how to get to school. I know the way Kaylee and her mammy and me walk. I’m going down the road. The lady across the road is looking at me. I can see her moving her curtains. I’m not smiling at her. I’m not waving. I’m going fast fast to the corner. It’s hard to go fast when your foot hurts. And when your head is banging. But I’m not stopping. I’m going fast fast. I’m going down the next road. Some cars are going past. I’m looking at them. I can see the people inside. Some of them are ladies. Some of them are men. Some of the cars have children in them. One car is silver. But Miss isn’t in it.

  The stones are hurting my feet. They’re getting stuck in between my toes. But I’m not stopping to get them out. I’m running fast fast all the way to school. I’m running past all the cars. The ones that are parked in the road. I’m running fast fast past some ladies. I’m running fast fast past a man. And I’m running fast fast past some children too.

  ‘Hey,’ one boy says. ‘Where’re you going?’ He’s a big boy from my school. I saw him in Mrs Gregory’s class. When I took Sir’s pen round the classes with Seren. When we had an important job to do.

  ‘School,’ I say. It’s hard to talk. It hurts my neck. But I’m not stopping. I’m still running fast fast.

  ‘Why?’ He’s shouting it. ‘What’s going on?’ I’m not saying anything. I’m running and running. I want to get to school. I want to get there fast.

  I’ve come to the gates. They’re shut. There’s a big chain to keep them closed. I’m pulling and pulling on the gate. I’m pulling and pulling. But the gates won’t open.

  The boy’s running up. ‘School’s shut. It’s still Easter holidays.’ He’s looking and looking at me. ‘Are you okay?’

  I’m thinking about Mammy. I’m thinking about her not coming home. I’m thinking about Brick. I don’t like thinking about him. ‘I want to see Miss,’ I say. My neck is hurting a lot when I talk. I’m rubbing it. And I’m pulling and pulling on the gate.

  ‘No one’s there. School doesn’t start again ’til next week.’

  I’m looking through the gates. I’m looking at school. There are no lights on in the classrooms. There are no children in the playground. There are no cars in the car park. I think the boy’s right. No one’s there.

  My eyes feel prickly. My neck hurts. And my tummy feels funny. My foot is hurting a lot lot. And my head’s banging. I want to see Miss. I want her to help me. I want her to get me more biscuits. But Miss isn’t here. She’s not in school. She’s not here to help me after all.

  The boy’s still looking at me. I think his face is kind. ‘Where’re your shoes?’ He’s pointing to my feet. We’re looking at the black bit on one of them. ‘How did you do that? What happened to you?’

  I’m rubbing my foot. The black isn’t coming off. I don’t know how the black got there. I’m thinking and thinking. I think it might have been Brick. I don’t want to think about Brick.

  The boy says, ‘You’ve got bruises on your neck too.’ I’m touching my neck. It hurts. It hurts a lot when my fingers touch it. I can’t remember how I hurt it. The boy’s pointing to my head now. ‘And there’s blood in your hair.’

  I don’t like the word blood. I don’t want blood in my hair. ‘Do you know where Miss is?’ I say.

  ‘Your teacher? She’s at home, I s’pose. Why do you want to see her?’

  I’m thinking about the biscuits. I’m thinking about Mammy being gone. I’m thinking about Brick. I don’t want to tell the boy about Brick. I don’t want to remember about Brick at all.

  I’m thinking and thinking. I’m going to run to Kaylee’s house. I know the way. I can run to my house first. Then I can cross the road to Kaylee’s. And I can count six front doors down. I haven’t seen a light in Kaylee’s house for a long long time. But I’m going to run there. I’m going to see if Kaylee and her mammy are home.

  ‘Hey!’ the boy says. ‘Where’re you running off to now?’

  I’m not saying anything. I’m running and running. I’m running back to the corner. The boy is running with me. We’re running fast fast. We’re running past the ladies again. And the children. There’s a car coming up the road. It’s a silver one. Miss has a silver car. I’m looking and looking at the car. A man is driving it. Miss isn’t in it. We are still running fast. We’re running round the corner. We are running past all the cars. The ones that are parked on the road. There’s another car coming. It’s a red one. And another. A black one. And another. A white one. And another. It’s a silver one. There’s a lady driving it. A lady with brown hair. It’s Miss! She hasn’t seen me. I’m waving and waving. But she can’t see me. I’m running to her car. I’m running in between the other cars. The cars that are parked on the road. I’m running to her silver car and I’m running into the road and I’m waving and waving.

  ‘Oi!’ The boy’s shouting it loud loud. ‘Watch out!’

  There’s a big sound. It’s all screechy. And I’m falling on the road. I can see the wheels on Miss’s car. They are right next to my head. And I’m falling flat. I’m falling flat flat on the road.

  * * *

  It’s very quiet. Very very quiet.

  And now someone is shouting. It’s Miss. She’s shouting ‘Tomos!’ She’s shout
ing and shouting. ‘Tomos! Tomos!’ And now she’s screaming. She’s screaming and screaming and screaming.

  ‘It’s okay, Mrs Davies.’ It’s the big boy shouting now. ‘You didn’t hit him.’ The big boy’s on his knees on the road. He’s putting his face next to mine. ‘You are all right, aren’t you?’

  I’m nodding. I’m starting to get up. The boy is helping me.

  Miss is running to me. ‘Tomos,’ she says. She’s putting her arms round me. ‘Are you really all right?’ She’s pulling me to her. ‘Did I hit you?’ I’m shaking my head. I am trying to say something. I’m trying but my neck is hurting too much.

  ‘You just missed him,’ the boy says. ‘By that much.’ He’s showing us a little gap in between his fingers.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness.’ Miss is crying now.

  We are all in the middle of the road. Another car has stopped behind Miss’s car. A man has got out of it. ‘Everything all right?’

  Miss is standing up a bit. She’s still got her arms round me. It’s nice to have her arms round me. ‘Yes, thank you. A near miss, that’s all.’

  ‘He was lucky your brakes are good.’ The man’s pointing to the road. ‘Your tyres have made some serious skid marks there.’ We’re all looking at the black lines on the road. ‘Kids are such a pain in the school holidays. Running riot everywhere.’

  ‘It was an accident.’ Miss is still squeezing me. I like it when she squeezes me. ‘It wasn’t his fault.’

  The man’s going back to his car. We’re watching him go away. He’s driving round Miss’s car now. Some other cars are driving round too. The ladies have come to look at us. They’re standing on the pavement. Some children have come too.

  ‘We’d better get out of the way,’ Miss says. She’s looking at the big boy. ‘Were you and Tomos playing together, Will?’

  ‘No, I just saw him running up to school,’ the boy who is Will says. ‘And he was asking for you.’ Miss is hugging me more. ‘He didn’t have his shoes on and I thought he looked like he was scared or something,’ Will says. ‘And he’s too small to be running around near a road on his own. So I ran back down here with him.’

  Miss is smiling and smiling at the boy. ‘Thanks for trying to help him, Will. That was very sensible of you. And kind too.’ She’s still cwtching me. She’s smoothing my hair now. ‘When term starts again I’ll make sure to tell Mrs Gregory how thoughtful you… Oh!’ Miss’s fingers have found the bump. The one on my head. She’s turning me round. ‘You’ve got a cut, Tomos. I did hit you after all.’ Miss’s eyes are very very big.

  I’m trying to shake my head. I’m trying to but Miss is holding it tight.

  ‘No, he had that already,’ Will says, ‘all that dry blood on the back of his head. He’s got a big bruise on his foot too. And bruises on his neck.’

  Miss is looking at the bruises on my neck and on my foot. ‘Oh!’ She’s putting her face in my hair. ‘Let’s get you in the car.’ She’s looking at the boy again now. ‘You get along home, Will. Thanks for all your help. I’ll see you in school next week.’

  Miss is lifting me up. She’s putting me in her car. She’s pulling the seatbelt over me. And she’s clicking it shut. We’re starting to drive off. Will is waving to us. We’re waving to him. Miss is waving a bit. I am waving a lot. I can see Miss’s face in the mirror. The mirror that’s stuck to the roof of her car. Her face is very white. And her eyes look pink.

  ‘Oh, Tomos,’ she says. ‘What are we going to do with you? Where are we going to go?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ It’s hard to talk. My neck still hurts. And my tummy feels funny.

  ‘I ought to get you checked over because of all those bumps and bruises you’ve got. I should take you to the hospital.’ She’s biting her lip. ‘But perhaps we could go to my house first. Colin’s not there right now.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say. It’s nice in Miss’s car. It’s nice being with Miss. My foot is hurting a bit. And my head is banging a bit too. But it’s very nice in Miss’s car. I’m putting my hand in my pocket. I can feel some things in there. I’m taking them out. It’s the bits of sparkly label. There’s Ma on one bit and mmy on another. There’s Lov on a bit too. I’m remembering something. I’m remembering something I forgot. ‘I haven’t got my truck,’ I say. I haven’t got my letter from Nanno. Or my fifty pence piece. But I am not saying that. My neck hurts too much.

  ‘Is it in your house?’ Miss says. I’m nodding. I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want to leave them behind. I don’t want to leave them with the thing in Mammy’s room. Miss is biting her lip again. I can see her in the little mirror. ‘Is your mum home?’

  I’m shaking my head. ‘She hasn’t been home for a long time.’ My voice is very quiet. ‘And my biscuits are all gone.’ I’m rubbing my neck.

  Miss’s eyes are shiny in the mirror. ‘Oh, Tomos. I’ve been so stupid…’ She’s getting a tissue out of her pocket. She’s wiping her eyes with it. ‘I should never have risked it…’ She’s blowing her nose. ‘I came to your house a couple of days ago. After we’d driven back from the Lake District. I knocked on the door. Did you hear me? Were you in?’

  I am thinking and thinking. I’m remembering Miss standing outside our house. I’m remembering running up the pavement. I was trying to run fast. I was trying to get to Miss. ‘I was in the park,’ I say. ‘With Wes. I saw you. But you drove off.’ I’m rubbing my neck again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tomos. I didn’t see you.’ Miss’s eyes look sad in the mirror. ‘I came back yesterday morning too. I knocked the door again. And I shouted for you through the letter box. Where were you then?’

  I’m trying to remember yesterday. I’m trying and trying. I’m remembering tap tapping. Tap tapping on the door. I think that might have been yesterday. And I’m remembering Nanno calling me. She was calling me for breakfast. It might have been Miss’s voice. It might have been Miss calling me. ‘I think I was in bed,’ I say.

  Miss is blowing her nose again on the tissue. We’re passing lots of houses. And people and children and dogs. I’m looking at them from Miss’s car. It’s very nice in her car. I like it a lot. ‘What about my truck?’ I say.

  ‘Oh yes, your truck.’ Miss is pushing the tissue into her pocket. ‘Time to make a three-point turn,’ she says. ‘Let’s go and get it.’

  * * *

  Miss is carrying me. She’s carrying me up the path. My foot is hurting a lot. It’s hard to walk. We’ve come to the back door. It’s open and the glass in it is all broken.

  ‘How did that happen, Tomos?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘Maybe Brick did it.’ My tummy hurts when I say Brick.

  ‘Perhaps we’d better not go in if we don’t know who did this.’ Miss is saying it quietly. ‘They could still be in there.’

  ‘I think it happened a long time ago,’ I say.

  ‘Did it? Well, we’d still better be careful… Hello?’ She’s shouting it. ‘Hello? Rhiannon?’

  We’re listening. It’s very quiet. ‘Mammy’s not back,’ I say.

  We’re going in to the kitchen. We’re going in slowly. There’s glass all over the floor. Miss is looking at the silver trays. They’re on the floor and on the worktops. We’re going into the front room. Miss is looking at the upside down settee. And the black chair. She’s looking at the rips in them. ‘Did Brick do this too?’ I’m lifting up my shoulders. ‘We’d better be quick. Where’s your truck?’

  ‘In my bedroom. I’ll get it.’ I’m wriggling a bit. I want Miss to put me down.

  ‘I’ll carry you,’ she says. I don’t want Miss to go upstairs. I’m wriggling some more. She’s holding me tight. ‘You haven’t got shoes on, Tomos. And there are bits of glass on the carpet.’ She’s carrying me up the stairs. ‘Rhiannon? Rhiannon?’

  ‘She’s not here,’ I say. ‘No one’s in.’ My voice is tiny.

  We’re going past the bathroom. I forgot to close the door. Miss is looking in. She’s looking at all the things in the sink. And all ove
r the floor. Mammy’s things. The things I must NOT touch. ‘Good God.’ She’s saying it very quietly.

  I don’t like Miss looking in the bathroom. ‘This is my room,’ I say. I’m pointing to my door. Miss is taking me into my room. ‘I need to go up my ladder. My truck’s on the bed.’ My voice is still very small. I don’t like being upstairs. I don’t like thinking about what’s in Mammy’s room.

  Miss is pushing me up my ladder. ‘Be careful, Tomos.’

  I’m climbing on top of my bed. I’m going to get my truck. And Nanno’s letter. And my fifty pence. I’m grabbing them fast fast. I want to get downstairs again. I want to go back to Miss’s car.

  Miss is coming up the ladder a bit. She’s looking on my bed. She’s holding up the jar. The jar of horrible jam. ‘Victorian chutney. Have you been eating this, Tomos?’

  I’m nodding. ‘It’s jam,’ I say. ‘A funny kind of jam.’

  ‘Oh, Tomos.’ She looks very sad. ‘And the jar’s broken too.’

  ‘I didn’t eat the glass,’ I say.

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’ She’s rubbing her cheeks. ‘Right. Let’s get you down off this bed. Have you got what you wanted?’ I’m showing her my truck and Nanno’s letter and my fifty pence. ‘Give them to me,’ she says, ‘so you can hold on.’ I’m giving them to Miss. She’s putting my coin in her pocket. She’s putting Nanno’s letter in there too. ‘Come down the ladder slowly.’ Miss is putting her hand on my back. ‘I’m right here. I won’t let you fall.’

  I’m putting my foot on the ladder. ‘Oh!’ I’m stopping. I’m rubbing my foot. The ladder has made it hurt again.

  Miss is coming up the ladder a bit. She’s looking at my foot. ‘You’ve got a nasty bruise there. What happened to it?’

  I’m thinking. I’m trying to remember. ‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I think Brick might have done it.’ I don’t want to think about Brick. My neck hurts when I think about Brick. And my tummy goes funny too.