Authors: Cathy MacPhail
‘Why shouldn’t you be here?’ Col asked.
Again Klaus shook his head. ‘It is not right that I
should involve—Is that the word? Involve? I should not involve you.’ He was backing towards the door. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’
‘And what makes you think I won’t tell anybody about you? You didn’t do anything to help me.’
Klaus stood for a moment by the door. ‘Because I think you are a good person,’ he said softly.
Then he was gone.
‘Did you have a visitor?’
No chance of a sleep with Dominic in the next room. He pushed open the door carrying a big bunch of grapes and shoved them at Col. ‘Want some?’
Col shook his head. ‘Did you see him?’
‘No. But my mother says she thought you had a visitor. That’s why I didn’t come in sooner.’
He said it as if Col had been waiting for him. As if he’d be disappointed at having to wait so long. He began to think Dominic was going to be like his shadow from now on.
He decided not to tell Dominic anything about Klaus, and not telling Dominic turned out to be easy. Dominic did all the talking, hardly stopping for breath.
‘And when you come out of hospital you’re coming to my house. For dinner … or for a party. Of course, that
means you’ll have to meet my sister.’ He screwed his face up in disgust. ‘Sorry about that. Her name’s Ella. Miserella I call her. She’s always in a bad mood. She doesn’t like you.’ He sounded totally shocked by this. ‘Even though you saved my life.’
‘Maybe that’s
why
she doesn’t like me.’
Dominic thought that was funny. ‘She is a horrible big sister. Really gets on your nerves. Have you got a big sister, Col?’ He didn’t give Col time to answer. ‘It’s just your big brother, isn’t it? Ella told me. She knows everything about your family.’ Dominic stuffed the last of the grapes into his mouth. ‘I don’t care what she says. You’re brilliant. I wish I had a big brother.’ He looked around for something else to eat. There was nothing, so he leapt off the bed, ready to go. ‘Make sure you get a good night’s sleep,’ he said, ‘’cause we’ve got a big day tomorrow.’
Col leaned up on his pillows. ‘What’s happening tomorrow?’
‘Didn’t I tell you? We’re being interviewed by the papers. It’s OK, my mother will be there as well.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Imagine. You and me. We’ve made the national press, boy!’
Col didn’t like that one bit. Neither would Mungo.
Col could refuse to co-operate, but Dominic, eager to spread the word about his ‘hero’, wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.
He dreaded tomorrow.
And sleep didn’t rest him. Once again, sleep brought more dreams. Down in that deep, dark water, struggling to get to the surface. His way blocked by ice and demons.
He was glad when morning came, though it was dark with a heavy grey sky that threatened more snow.
Cleo was back on duty, smiling brightly with stories of her baby. ‘He is so cute, Col. He just giggles all the time. Do you like babies?’
‘You’ve got to be joking!’ Col said at once.
In spite of his lack of sleep he felt brighter today, especially with Nurse Cleo in the room. Today, he was ready to tackle anything, even reporters.
She laughed and studied his temperature. ‘Of course you don’t. It’s not
cool
at your age. But I bet if I brought my little darling in here you’d be goo-gooing along with the rest of them.’
‘In your dreams,’ he said, but he smiled. Nurse Cleo was like a breath of air as she busied herself about the room, checking charts, tidying his bed.
‘Your breakfast’s coming. And I’ll try to keep Dominic out as long as I can.’
She managed to do that until after breakfast, by which time Col had had a shower and a change of pyjamas.
Dominic came bouncing in like a rubber ball, beaming a big freckle-faced smile.
‘I think they’re bringing a photographer, so we better look our best.’ Dominic spat on his palms and brushed down his unruly hair. ‘It’s all right for you. You’re dead good-looking, Col. I heard Nurse Cleo say that to Miserella.’
Nurse Cleo thought he was dead good-looking! He was really chuffed, and grinned to himself like an idiot. But only for a second, until he realised how stupid he must look with a big daft grin on his face.
The reporter came at eleven, and sure enough there was a photographer with him. Mrs Sampson was there, too, standing by the window, listening quietly to the whole interview.
‘I’m Bobby Grant,’ the reporter introduced himself, holding out a hand to Col. But Col recognised him. He’d been at their house before, trying to get some dirt on Mungo. If he remembered Col, he didn’t show it.
He only opened his notebook and began firing questions right away. Dominic sat cross-legged on the end of the bed, enthusiasm zooming out of him.
‘What happened exactly, Col?’ Bobby Grant asked.
At first, Col was reticent. Should he tell them about missing school? He did. Should he tell them about being about to steal ten pounds from Dominic’s rucksack? He didn’t. But when it came to questions about how it felt in that icy loch, suddenly his mouth was too dry to answer. He felt a panic inside even trying to remember it. Dominic made up for him. He was more than eager to fill in the details. The boy was a reporter’s dream. Colouring the story so that Col hardly recognised it.
‘There I was, thrashing about in the water, my whole life flashing in front of me. Honest. That really happens by the way. I’ve never wanted my mum so much in my whole life.’ He stopped suddenly, and said seriously, ‘Don’t put that bit in the paper. My friends at school will make my life a misery if you put that in.’
Bobby Grant laughed, and making the most of Dominic’s pause asked him, ‘When did you first see Col? When did you realise that someone was actually going to save you?’ As Dominic opened his mouth to
speak the reporter leaned across and touched his hand. ‘And slow down, son. I can’t write shorthand as fast as you can talk.’
Dominic hesitated, swallowed, and began, slowly at first, but by two sentences he was firing off as rapidly as ever. ‘I was going under. And I knew I would never be able to get up again … the water was
so
cold. I knew I was going to die and I was scared and then I saw Col and I don’t know where he came from, ’cause I hadn’t noticed him before but there he was, running at me, pulling off his jacket, and I knew I was going to be OK because Superman was here, that’s just what it was like, as if Superman had come to the rescue and I wasn’t frightened after that, except …’ He paused again, swallowed hard, and stared at Col. ‘Except when you went under the water and I thought you were going to die instead of me and I couldn’t help you. ’Cause I’m not brave like you, Col, or strong, and that’s when I was the scaredest and then—whoosh! Suddenly you came roaring up, I couldn’t believe it.’ Dominic turned back to Bobby Grant. ‘But he’s here. He’s fine … he really is Superman.’
Even the photographer laughed. ‘You’ve got a fan, Col.’
‘Yeah, how does it feel to be on the side of the good guys for once?’ Bobby Grant had the decency to blush as soon as he’d said it. ‘Sorry.’
So he did remember him.
Dominic jumped to Col’s defence. ‘Col couldn’t be anything else but a good guy. He’ll always be a good guy.’
They finished by taking a photograph. Col and Dominic sitting together on the bed. Col couldn’t bring himself to smile despite all their pleadings. He had a bad feeling inside that this would be another mistake. Mungo wouldn’t like it. But Dominic smiled enough for both of them, beaming like a rosy apple, tufts of his unruly caramel-coloured hair standing to attention on top of his head.
Suddenly, just before the camera flashed, Dominic gave the thumbs-up sign and beamed his smile at Col. ‘See, you, Col … you’re simply the best.’
That was the picture that appeared in the paper next day, and that was the headline:
SIMPLY THE BEST
.
And Mungo didn’t like it … In fact, Mungo was furious.
‘That’s all I need!’ Mungo roared when the story had first appeared. ‘My brother on the front pages. Cops’ll love that.’
His rage had flowed out of him like a tidal wave. Col couldn’t understand why, and told him so.
‘You don’t understand?’ Mungo had roared at him, and yet it seemed to Col he had to search around his brain for an answer. ‘You could have died in that loch,’ he said finally. ‘And for what? … Nothing!’
Col thought about bouncy little Dominic, and his tearful parents, and couldn’t agree. Though he didn’t say so. But he knew it hadn’t been for ‘nothing’.
‘You know I don’t like any kind of publicity – especially front-page stuff.’
But Mungo had been on the front pages before now. And this, surely, was good publicity.
In the end it didn’t matter why he was so angry. When Col left hospital two days later, Mungo didn’t come with Mam to collect him.
‘He’s waiting for you in the house,’ Mam assured him as she packed Col’s things into a case. ‘We’re going to have a nice family dinner. I’ve made your favourite. Steak pie.’
Steak pie! That was enough to make him almost forget about Mungo.
Nurse Cleo was there, too, fussing around him almost as much as his mother.
‘I’m going to miss my good-looking Col,’ she said, making him blush. ‘Everyone in this hospital is. It’s not every day we have a real-life hero in here.’
‘Real hero nothing,’ Col said, trying to hide his embarrassment. ‘I wish everybody would stop calling me that.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll just have to get used to it, Col. You’re a wonderful human being, and you’ve proved it.’ She laughed so heartily Col had to smile. So did Mam.
Would they have smiled if Mungo had been there? Would Nurse Cleo have been so talkative, or would Col have been embarrassed by his brother’s patronising attitude towards her?
‘You must be so proud of him, Mrs McCann.’
Mam beamed, but even now she refused to single out one son for her praise. ‘I’m proud of both my boys.’
The Sampsons came in to say goodbye. Dominic had been discharged the day before but had insisted his parents bring him back to see Col.
‘He didn’t have to coax us too hard,’ Mr Sampson pointed out. ‘We wanted to see you again to invite you –’ his eyes flicked across to Mam ‘– and your mother, of course, to our house for a celebration meal.’
‘It’s not to thank you, Col,’ Mrs Sampson said quickly. ‘Nothing we could ever do would be enough thanks.’
Mrs McCann accepted, but made no arrangements. Not then. It was better if any contact with the Sampsons ended now. Better for Col, better for them. But would it be possible? Not, it seemed, with Dominic around.
‘Next week, Col? At the weekend?’
His mother patted his shoulder. ‘We’ll make arrangements later, Dominic. Let Col get home to his family first.’
The hospital insisted on a wheelchair as he left. It made him feel stupid, being wheeled along when there
was nothing wrong with him. He felt fine now. Even the dreams were fading, just as Nurse Cleo had said they would. It was everyone’s reaction to him that took him totally by surprise.
As he left, Col was congratulated, and cheered, and as he neared the exit some people even burst into spontaneous applause. He’d never been so embarrassed, or so surprised, in his life.
Dominic, who had insisted on accompanying him, was almost bursting with pride as he strutted along beside him. ‘He saved my life, you know,’ he’d tell everyone just in case there might be someone who had missed the story. ‘I’d be pushing up daisies now if it wasn’t for him.’
That made Col laugh. ‘I think you might mean water lilies … or even ice floes, Dominic.’
Dominic just shrugged. He didn’t care. He was basking in the reflected glory around his hero.
Mam had a taxi waiting. When Dominic saw it he started shouting. ‘You don’t need a taxi. My dad’s got the car. We’ll take you home.’
But that would be too much for Mungo, arriving home with the Sampsons in tow.
‘No thanks, son,’ Mam said gently. ‘We’ll just get off
home in a taxi, and you tell your mum and dad thanks for everything.’
Dominic waved forlornly as they drove off. It was obvious in his bleak expression how much he wished he was going with them.
‘You’ll have to watch that wee boy,’ Mam warned him. ‘You’ll never be free of him if you’re not careful.’
‘That’s what scares me,’ Col admitted.
As they sat in the taxi he asked her, ‘Do you think we should go to their house?’
Mam shook her head as if she had already decided. ‘Better not, son. The likes of them and the likes of us don’t mix. And anyway,’ she added, and Col knew this was the real reason, ‘Mungo wouldn’t like it.’
Mungo was sitting in his chair by the fire when they went in. He didn’t stand up to greet Col. He didn’t even look up from his paper. ‘How’s it goin’?’
‘Better if you and I were talkin’, Mungo,’ Col blurted out.
Mungo looked up. For a moment, his expression didn’t change. He just stared at his brother and Col braced himself for another angry tirade. It didn’t come. Instead, the ghost of a smile crept into Mungo’s eyes.
‘My fault, Col. Not yours. It was that wee toerag, Dominic, who made sure the press got the story. Cannae keep his gob shut.’
He grabbed Col by the collar and hugged him. An amazing gesture in itself. ‘It’s good to have you back in the place. If anythin’ had happened to you—’
Mungo’s eyes were heavy with tears. So were Col’s. Mungo suddenly pushed him away and sniffed. ‘Hey, you’ve got me bubbling away here like a lassie.’
Col rubbed his eyes. ‘Me too. Hey look, I’m just like our mam at a soppy film.’ He gave a melodramatic sob to cover up his own emotion.
Mungo laughed, and his mother rushed at Col, flicking his backside with a dishcloth.
‘Don’t you dare take the mickey out of me, boy.’ She was laughing.
They were all laughing. It was great to be home.
As his mother almost skipped back to the kitchen, happy her boys had made up, she called back over her shoulder, ‘Show Col what you got for him, Mungo.’
‘You got me a present?’