On the day in question, Helen stuck to her word and gave him a lift. First, she dropped off her husband at his work. Then she bought lunch and topped up the car with petrol. This only succeeded in protracting Edward’s angst.
“Because I work at the school, and since you obviously can't walk long distances, we get to park right outside the entrance.”
She carried out one last sanity check on her adopted son: shirt tucked in, tie straight, flies up, lunch packed, laces tied, nose clean. Edward squirmed and flung the door open to escape her mothering. She got out and gave him a tender hug which he shied away from, a quick peck on the cheek which he flapped away from, and a fond wave which was not returned.
It was Edward’s time to step into the unknown and start a new chapter.
VI
“Hey, what’s up?”
It didn’t have to be like this. Before the crash, Edward had friends. Plenty of them, thank you very much. Boundless optimism too.
The crash had changed everything.
“You alright?”
The school term was in full swing and Edward had started to settle into a welcome routine. He was coping overall; many subjects he excelled in while under-performing in others.
“You’re being a bit special, aren’t ya.”
Edward found the predictability of the structured days most comforting. Arrive at school for registration; lessons; break time spent in the library. More lessons; lunchtime spent alone or on the periphery of the main gaggle of Year 7 pupils; more lessons. Home to work in his room; then game or read or write before his strict bedtime.
“Hey, is everything OK?”
Until this mid-October morning. Edward had woken up as gloomy as the overcast skies outside. He had not slept well, surrendering himself to a renewed discomfort in his arm. It was tender and no amount of ibuprofen could avert it. He’d struggled to get changed and his appetite was lost.
“Oi, what’s wrong? Something the matter mate?”
The bus was stuck in traffic and he was late for registration. He had received his first ticking off that term, the injustice of which riled him. In a fit of misguided retribution at no one in particular, he had gouged some paint off the classroom wall beside him. He’d panicked when a large chunk of plasterboard crumbled away. At least the teacher didn’t see.
“Poke. Poke. I’m just going to keep poking you until you say something.”
This was not going to be his day.
“Poke. Poke.”
During the morning break, he had stepped out into the drizzle with hordes of other children. He was in no mood to knuckle down in the library. The air was cool and the ground moist but he still enjoyed the fresh air.
“Poke.”
His arm continued to hurt a lot. He was checking the time on his phone when his eye had cast over the date. He stared at it for a minute, maybe longer, in disbelief.
“No, no it can’t…” he had muttered.
On the other side of the perimeter fence, a tremendously loud car horn beeped for two or three seconds. It caused Edward to drop his phone in fright – cracking the screen. He clutched his side, as a sharp pain radiated from his right-hand flank. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating. He was breathing but struggling to get air into his lungs. He could feel his eyes stinging with tears. Head swimming; a feeling of vertigo as the ground fell away beneath him. He wanted to sit down. It was all too much.
“Can you hear me? I asked what’s up.”
For this was a year to the day.
“I need some space. Go, it’s fine – honest.” Edward lowered himself to his haunches and breathed deeply. Choking back fits of tears, his palpitations and hyperventilation persisted. The agony in his arm and abdomen added to his anxiety. Pupils passed by. Some sneered; all stared.
“I’m not gonna leave you there. You look like crap.”
Edward tried to regain a bit of dignity by wiping his eyes and stifling a sob. A new wave of tears descended and his sinuses stung, forcing him to splutter in anguish. The stranger winced, not that Edward would have noticed from behind a veil of tears.
“Something you wanna talk about man?”
Edward looked up at him with his snotty nose and bloodshot eyes. There was something endearing about this stranger. Maybe it was his faint freckles or his blond, flossy hair that set him apart from the conformity in the other pupils.
Edward shook his head. Other students milled close by. A few tutted; many tittered.
After a lengthy pause, broken only by the disconcerting noise of Edward’s laboured breathing, the boy spoke again.
“I’ve seen you around school, looking lost and daydreaming all the time. You’re not exactly subtle about it.” He laughed nervously and this contagion of light-hearted relief spread to his new acquaintance, who choked back a fresh wave of tears and mucus.
Behind his back, a group of pupils beckoned the stranger to hurry up. Already, the bell had gone for the end of breaktime and children were trudging off to their next classes.
“What’s his problem?” one of them called.
“Leave him, Tosh. He’s weird,” another boy said, pointing at his head and spinning his finger – the universal gesture for ‘crazy’.
‘Tosh’ crouched beside Edward. “Look, I’m running late for my next class. If you want, we’ll be on the basketball court at lunch. OK?”
He made to go to the main building. He was stopped from going any further when Edward called out for him to wait.
“Hang on,” he blurted out.
The boy with the tousled fair hair and light freckles turned to face him. He wanted to be on time but curiosity held him back. Edward composed himself.
“Get a haircut.”
Taken aback, the boy could only laugh in jest. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, turning back to saunter into class.
Edward raised himself off his haunches in the deserted playground and screwed his face up. He too had lessons to attend. A short distance away, next to the bike rack, a pigeon pecked at the ground in search of food. In his misplaced rage, he charged the bird. He didn’t expect to make contact. He assumed it would fly off. But he did hit it. He struck it with the end of his shoe, sending it flapping against one of the parked bikes. After lying dazed for several seconds, it hobbled away.
The red mist lifted; Edward’s sanity returned. With a pang of guilt, he looked over his shoulder at the stricken pigeon as he set off to his ICT class.
◆◆◆
Two hours later and the lunch bell rang. On the basketball court, Tosh larked around with his friends. Edward had finished his lunch and was sitting by himself on a bench near the sideline. The kid played the ball to Edward, who wasn’t prepared for the pass and ended up missing it completely. Some of the kids giggled. A few girls watching on sniggered. Edward’s face flushed and he ran to collect the ball. He took aim and hurled it over the perimeter fence and into the playing fields beyond.
“Ooooooh!” the girls jeered.
“What gives?” one of the boys shouted. A couple of them advanced towards Edward, but Tosh held them back and jogged over instead.
“What did you do that for? I wasn’t expecting you to play me the ball!” Edward seethed.
Tosh gripped Edward’s shoulder. “Yeah? Well I could ask you the same thing. What’s wrong with you?” His searching eyes roamed across Edward’s face, a face which appeared haunted. Disturbed, somehow.
“Gerroff me,” Edward resisted.
“Tell me or you’re just gonna end up a sad, whiny loner for the rest of the year. You really want that?”
“I don’t care.”
“Just tell me.”
“Fine! You really wanna know? You wanna know why I’m so upset today? Well...” He nodded in the direction of the boy’s friends. Having asked them to back off, Tosh turned his attention to Edward.
“Go on, what is it?”
Edward sighed. “Twelve months ago, my parents died in a car crash.”
The b
oy looked at him, frowned, then backed off.
“What, you don’t believe me?”
“I don’t know man. Those people who drop you off in the morning—”
“Are my foster family. Here...” He rolled up his cuff to reveal the scarring across his right arm, and lifted his shirt to show another legacy wound on his belly. “That’s why I always wear a vest when getting changed for PE. I didn’t want anyone to know.”
The kid stared in astonishment at the burgundy marks winding across Edward's skin. One of the other boys on the basketball court drew in a sharp breath; the girls nearby let out a collective, pantomime-style groan.
“Put it away, freak,” one of them shouted.
“How – how?” Tosh began.
The bell rang to signal the end of lunch, before Edward could explain any further. Tosh looked at him with bright eyes, sympathetic and inviting Edward to talk on. He told his friends he would follow them in soon and smiled sheepishly as the girls walked by.
“That was a great shot earlier,” one of them said sarcastically. She cast a contemptuous look at Edward, akin to the disdain that a member of high society might hold against those perceived to be of lower class.
“You still coming to Lottie’s party on Saturday, Tosh?” another girl asked.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there,” replied Tosh, as casually as he could. When they were out of earshot, he turned back to face Edward. “I wanna ask Lottie out this weekend. I think she’s cute. Don’t ya think?”
Edward could tell he was trying to lighten the atmosphere but his mood remained grim. He nodded. “Guess she kinda is.”
“You coming to her party, right?”
A brief pause. “Course I am,” Edward replied, before changing the subject hastily. “You done your science homework?”
Tosh smiled, taking pity on his new acquaintance. They headed indoors. An irked teacher stood at the main entrance ready to scold them. After looking at Edward’s blotched cheeks and puffy eyes, she turned her attention to Tosh. He said nothing, put his arm around Edward’s shoulders and raised his eyebrows at the teacher. No words needed to be spoken and the teacher withdrew from the doorway to let them pass.
“I think I’m alright from here,” Edward said once they reached the foot of the main stairwell. “Thanks.” Tosh nodded and made his way to his next lesson.
Edward kept his head bowed as he ambled up the steps. His progress was halted on the landing as he bumped into someone.
“Hey, what the fuck—” the mysterious figure growled, as Edward felt his head slammed onto the balustrade, “do you think you’re doing?”
Edward had had such an overwhelming day that the will to fight left him from the get-go. He sunk face down onto the steps, conceding defeat already. His forehead throbbed, an unremitting surge of pain extending to his temples.
The stranger changed tone instantly. “Ah, shit, I got a little testy there, didn’t I mate? Let’s clean you up. Quick, otherwise we’ll be even later for class.” The deep, malevolent tone of his outburst contrasted markedly with his soothing voice now.
In the boys’ toilets close by, the thug reverted to his former type. Tripping Edward up and throwing him against the sink, he hurled an uncompromising torrent of fists and abuse.
“You might wanna watch where you’re going now, eh?”
With each blow, Edward fought to protect himself, despite his body giving up.
“Maybe in future you’ll be on time for class.” He grunted as each successive strike took a little more effort to deliver. The pummelling softened Edward’s skin, forcing him into the foetal position in an attempt to defend himself. “What were you doing with that other dick in the playground, huh you gaylord? You the best of buddies now?”
Edward curled up underneath a basin, his shoulder digging into the U-bend. His arms shielded his face. Blood started to flow freely and even taint the thug’s uniform. His black fringe was knotted with sweat and his cheeks were tender. He ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. One or two of them wobbled. Dreary colours were all he could make out, a smudged watercolour painting where everything had blurred. His hearing was spoilt by incessant ringing. He waited for the inevitable.
Seconds were marked with every deep intake of breath. He was aware of his chest rising and falling. Breathing, that most fundamental of human needs. All that Edward could do to survive was inspire and expire. His inspiration to fight had left him; his expiration seemed certain. There had been no time to fear his impending demise. The adrenaline took him to a better place, one in which the pain was manageable.
Up. Could it be? He was conscious of a force lifting him. Could this be his salvation? He clenched his eyes shut, longing for clarity.
His perceptions of sight and sound returned to something resembling normality. As images became more defined and noises became more distinctive, Edward took stock of his surroundings. Through slits in his swollen eyes, he could make out the tall, bulky outline of a boy lying prone on the tiled floor. Supporting Edward were the arms of another boy, one whom Edward was adamant he recognised. It hurt to turn his head, but the voice proved unambiguous.
“I had a feeling you’d head back into the toilets to start crying again. Looks like I was half-right.”
This familiar voice, belonging to ‘Tosh’, or the ‘dick in the playground’, guided Edward onto a toilet seat lid and set about mopping up the worst of the wounds. “Look at the light up there.”
“Huh, why?” Edward grunted.
“Dunno, just seen all the doctors say that on TV. Now tell me what day it is.” He applied cool, soapy wads of tissue to the cuts, loosening Edward’s tie and unfastening his top button.
Edward was still groggy. “Some day.”
“Wrong, we’re not in school on Sunday. What’s my name?”
Edward glanced his way, confused. Tosh pulled back Edward’s collar and saw a stained name tag on the inside of his shirt.
“We got this far without even bothering to ask each other’s name,” he said. Edward tried to focus on the calm, friendly demeanour of his rescuer. “I’m Tom by the way. My mates call me Toshy.”
“I’m Edward.”
“That’s what the label says. You’re gonna make it after all!” Tom exclaimed.
“How do you know all this first-aid stuff?” Edward asked, clamping his eyes shut as his head yearned for relief.
“We learned CPR and things back in Year Six. Didn’t you?” Edward blanked this question and pressed a hand to the side of his scalp.
There was not a lot else Tom could do to remedy the bruising and gashes across Edward’s face and body. Together they shimmied out of the cubicle and into the quiet of the corridor outside.
“Who even was that?” Edward rasped.
“An absolute cosmic jeb-end is who. Simon Wainwright. A right wrong-un, he likes to dish it out and he’s always giving teachers grief as well.”
“How – what did you even do to him?”
Tom laughed. “My dad loves his MMA but thinks I’m too young for all that proper serious shit. Til he thinks I’m ready, I’ve got my sparring to thank for that,” he said as he threw his head back in the direction of the toilet door.
They hopped down the empty stairwell, supporting each other against the balustrade. Their footsteps echoed, which cheered Edward insofar as it meant his hearing was improving.
“Sorry, I think we’ve both missed our lessons,” Edward said.
“Yeah well, half the teachers here are clueless so I doubt anyone will care too much.”
“What about registers and attendance, stuff like—”
Chuckling, Tom interrupted. “Stop it you, now you make me wonder if you didn’t deserve that pasting!” He realised that may have been harsh, so he backtracked. “I’m popular. I can manage one missed science lesson.” Noticing that Edward seemed unconvinced, he added, “Trust me, I’m doing everyone a favour taking out Simon.”
Edward found the funny side and for the first time t
hat day, he smiled broadly enough to reveal his teeth. Streaks of blood from his mouth gave them a crimson hue.
“Oooh no”, Tom said, exaggerating his scrunched-up face. “Those teeth aren’t in great shape now. Best keep that mouth shut!”
Tom led Edward out through a fire escape adjacent to the chemistry lab. “I know from experience mate, this door – always has its alarm deactivated.”
“Where are we going?” asked Edward, voice croaking.
“I’m hungry. I was gonna leave you in the toilet but if I came all that way to help out, I may as well invite you. You coming or wimping out?”
Edward righted himself and tried to stand proud. The pain was still acute, more so around his face and sides. Like a plant fluttering in the breeze, he swayed gently. “But we just had lunch. I haven’t got any money on me anyway.”
“Well, I do have money, and I’m hungry again. So, there.” With that, they escaped school and headed towards a grotty, concrete-covered shopping plaza. It was not a pretty shopping precinct, where their dishevelled presence drew no more than half glances and the odd glare from locals. They sat on a low wall, swinging their legs back and forth. Edward had rebuilt his appetite as he watched Tom tuck in to a chicken wrap and fries. It hurt to chew, but Edward was still grateful that Tom was in a sharing mood.
Edward broke the silence after finishing his chips. “Sorry again for earlier.”
Tom feigned ignorance. “What do you mean?”
“Back on the playground over lunch. It’s been a crap day.”
“It’s OK, I felt bad for you.”
“You’re the first person at school to see my scars.”
“Nice. What do I win?” Sensing that Edward wasn’t in a laughing mood, he went on. “So how’d it happen?” Cursing his lack of sensitivity, he added, “You’re forgiven by the way.”
Edward looked at him. The corners of Tom’s lips pulled upward a little, into a weak smile. This nevertheless made his bright eyes crease up and radiate a warmth that drew Edward in, as a moth is attracted to incandescent light. His hair was longer than Edward’s, its wavy texture giving it an untamed appearance. There was an au naturel look about it. There seemed to Edward an enviable symmetry in the outline of Tom’s jaw, from his ears down to his chin.
Screams of Thy Neighbour Page 4