Authors: Cathy MacPhail
Col began to hurry past her. Didn’t want an argument.
‘Col?’ she shouted after him.
He stopped and turned defiantly. He was expecting to be blamed for something, or warned about something, or asked to pass on some insult to his mother. He put on his surly
I’m a McCann
expression. ‘Aye? What do you want?’
‘I just wanted to tell ye … that was a wonderful thing you done, son. Wonderful.’
Col thought she was taking the mickey. But she went on, ‘The whole street thinks the same thing. They might not say it – with your brother you don’t know how it might be taken – but … the whole street thinks it was wonderful.’
Then she was gone. Her door closed softly. He was alone on the dark street with only a mangy dog for company, barking in some alley.
The whole street was proud of him, and his class, and Mrs Holden, and …
What was happening?
Col had never been so nervous in his life, and he was annoyed at himself for feeling like that. After all, he was only going to the Sampsons’ house for a meal. They’d been inviting him for almost a fortnight – Dominic phoning him up, pleading with him. Inviting his mother too. Her answer was immediate.
‘Me? Go to their house? Not on your life. And I’d advise you to steer well clear of them, Col. I know they mean well, but …’
She let the ‘but’ drift off. Col understood what she meant – Mungo didn’t want him to go. Mungo wanted the whole drama to be put firmly in the past where it belonged. The Sampsons lived in a different world. A world Col could never fit into.
Dominic’s parents would have let it rest, understanding Col’s reluctance, but Dominic just wouldn’t
take no for an answer.
‘Just this once,’ he pleaded on the phone. ‘I’ll never ask you again, I promise. But I want to show you my PlayStation. I’ve got brilliant games. We could play them.’
In the end, it was curiosity as well as Dominic’s pleas that made him change his mind. ‘Just this once,’ Col told a jubilant Dominic. That was what he told his mother too. ‘Just this once.’
She declined the invite. It was her favourite bingo night, she said, but the truth was she didn’t want to annoy Mungo. She did buy Col a new sweater for the visit though. ‘Nobody’s goin’ to say my boy’s not well dressed.’
He walked across town to Dominic’s house despite Dominic’s frantic insistence that ‘My dad’ll come and get you’.
But Col had been just as insistent. He’d walk. March had burst into life with a warm temperature and a promised early spring.
‘I’ve just seen my first crocus,’ his mother had said as he was leaving. ‘That means we’ll have a good summer.’
Which was probably the kiss of death to any good weather. Mam, they had discovered long ago, was
totally rubbish at predicting the weather. Whatever she said, they usually ended up with the opposite.
It was a crisp, dry afternoon as he walked through the town centre and up into the west end where Dominic lived. The Sampsons’ house was situated in a quiet tree-lined terrace with fancy cars in all the driveways, and well-tended gardens.
Dominic was watching for him and came leaping down the front steps and whizzing towards him. ‘You’re just in time. Everybody’s here.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Even Miserella. Bet you 10p you can’t make her smile.’
He was pulling at Col’s sleeve, hurrying him into the house. ‘Come on! Come on!’
Mrs Sampson appeared at the door. ‘Dominic. Leave Col be for a minute.’ She flicked at his backside with a dishcloth, and Dominic yelped. Just what Col’s mother did to him. Maybe they weren’t so different after all. The thought cheered him up. He smiled as Mrs Sampson led him in to meet the rest of the family. The hallway was almost as big as his front room, with an ornate winding staircase leading up to the floors above. A dark wood unit took up all of one wall and it was filled with expensive-looking china and silver and crystal. Col tried
to take it all in so he could describe it to Mam later. The Chinese rug, the crystal chandelier, the paintings. In the dining room, Mr Sampson was opening a bottle of wine. He turned and smiled, a genuine smile. This family really seemed to like him.
And, of course, he knew why. He had saved their son’s life. Col glanced at Dominic. He was gazing at Col as if he were some kind of superhero. Yet, if it hadn’t been for Col he would be deep down in the dark waters of the loch. He could almost picture his white face, bloated, floating …
Too scary! Too much like being back down there himself.
‘Are you OK, Col?’ Mrs Sampson asked. ‘You’ve gone quite pale.’
He shook the memory away, though it continued to cling around the corners of his mind like a spider’s web.
Mrs Sampson led him into the living room. ‘You haven’t met our daughter yet, Col. This is Ella.’ And she pulled a reluctant female into view.
Ella was slightly taller than Col, with long hair, the same nutty colour as Dominic’s, and eyes as icy as the loch. Miserella matched her name perfectly, Col thought. She looked as if she were smelling something
awful … and it was probably him.
‘Now, you three get to know each other and I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.’
Mrs Sampson flashed a warning look at Ella as she passed her on the way to the kitchen. Col didn’t miss it. It was a you-be-nice-to-him-or-else kind of look. And, as soon as the door of the kitchen was closed, Ella ignored it.
‘Before we go any further,’ she said, ‘the furniture has been screwed down and we’ve counted the silver.’
Dominic jumped at her. ‘You said you’d be nice to Col. You promised. I’m going to tell Mum and Dad on you.’
Col held him back from rushing from the room. ‘Don’t bother with her, Dominic. She’s just jealous.’
He decided to look at her the same way she was looking at him, as if she were the bad smell.
‘What made you save his life? Think there would be a reward?’
She was trying to rile him, to make him angry. She thought it was going to be easy. Col decided he wasn’t going to let her.
‘Meeting you is reward enough for me.’
She hadn’t expected that. In fact, Col hadn’t intended
to say it. But, all the same, it was just the right thing.
Ella’s mouth hung open for a second, then suddenly she was laughing. Not the I’m-having-a-wonderful-time kind of laughing. But more your insulted kind of laughter, because she was stuck for words. ‘You have some nerve!’ she managed to say.
Col held out his hand to Dominic. ‘Does that count as a smile? Do you owe me 10p?’
Dominic giggled. ‘10p? You deserve 20p for that. Round one to you, Col.’
Miserella’s eyes narrowed. She made a grab for her brother, but he darted behind Col. ‘What was your bet? Tell me, you little horror!’
Dominic began jumping out on either side of Col chanting, ‘Make me! Make me!’
No wonder she was annoyed, but they didn’t tell her. And that only made her even more miserable.
‘Our secret,’ Dominic mouthed at her.
While they waited for dinner Dominic insisted Col go up to see his PlayStation. Col had expected it to be a better one, more expensive, but he didn’t show that to Dominic. He was too proud of it. ‘I paid for this myself you know. I’ve got a paper round, and Mum and Dad give me money for any odd jobs I do around the house.
Dad said if I saved up so much, he would give me the rest.’
Col was surprised at that. ‘He made you save up for it yourself?’ He would have thought with the money the Sampsons had, his dad would have given him anything he wanted. But it didn’t seem to bother Dominic.
‘Oh yes. My dad says you appreciate things better if you’ve got to work for them.’ He hugged his PlayStation and laughed. ‘And I definitely appreciate this.’
He even made Col laugh.
He began dancing about with excitement, as if he needed the toilet. ‘Want to play? I’ve got lots of games.’
They played until Mrs Sampson shouted on them for dinner. Col had to promise to come back up again before he went home.
‘Him and that PlayStation, Col,’ Mr Sampson said when they came downstairs. He ruffled Dominic’s hair at that, but Dominic shook him away. He didn’t want Col to see him treated like a ‘wee boy’.
All in all, Col had a better time than he expected. He laughed quite a lot and, annoying as he was, Dominic was funny. Keeping the company going with a series of knock-knock jokes which Dominic found far funnier than anyone else. It was very clear that he was the apple,
in fact, the whole orchard of his parents’ eyes. They teased him, laughed with him. Dominic, the smallest in the room, filled the house with his vitality.
And all the time Col was thinking: if it hadn’t been for him, they would be mourning for him, now, missing him, grieving for him. If it hadn’t been for him.
He remembered Mrs Holden’s words, ‘You might have saved the life of a great doctor … ’ and he asked Dominic, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’
No hesitation. ‘Och, that’s easy. I want to work in a chip shop. Imagine making fish and chips for a living!’
Ella groaned. ‘You have no ambition, Dominic.’
Col only laughed. ‘It’s good to know I saved your life for something worthwhile.’
That made them all laugh, although Dominic wasn’t quite sure what he was laughing at. All of them, except Ella.
She continued to watch Col, distrustfully, throughout the meal.
‘You haven’t put arsenic in my soup or anything?’ he whispered to her.
‘If only I’d thought of it,’ she whispered back.
The soup was nothing to write home about. It was watery and dark and looked more like something you
washed your dishes in. And it had bits of fried bread floating in it too.
‘They’re called
croûtons
, cretin,’ Miserella told him smugly as he pushed them around his bowl.
Nothing like as good as the thick, meaty broths his mam made. She’d be pleased when he told her that later.
When the meal was finished, Mr Sampson got to his feet. For one awful moment Col thought he was going to make a speech.
But he didn’t. Not really. He lifted his glass to Col, and thanked him once again for saving Dominic.
‘And remember, Col. If there’s ever anything you need –
anything
– just ask. We’ll always be here for you, the way you were there for our son.’
Dominic groaned. ‘Aw, Dad. Don’t go on. This is so embarrassing.’
Mr Sampson laughed. ‘I know. Point taken. Shut up, Dad. I’m just going to announce one more thing, and then I’ll shut up for the night. I promise.’ He looked at Col with almost as much fondness as he had looked at Dominic. ‘Because of what you did we put you forward for an award, and next month we’ve all been invited to London to attend the ceremony. Col, you’re going to receive The Young People’s Act of Courage Award.’
‘Congratulations, Col – on the award – it’s wonderful news.’ Mrs Holden had sought him out in the corridor at school.
Everyone was congratulating him. From his own classmates, right up to the headmaster. And now, surprise, surprise, even Mrs Holden.
‘It’s an honour for the school, too,’ she told him.
‘I don’t know whether I’ll go,’ he said sullenly.
‘But you must go, Col. An all-expenses-paid trip to London. Meeting so many interesting people …’ She paused, and added as if it surprised her as much as Col, ‘People as brave as yourself.’
‘It’s just not my scene,’ he said, and walked away from her.
They all thought he should go, everyone, even Blaikie who had beamed at him as he had come in through the
school gates that morning.
‘You’re so lucky, Col. I wish I could go to London. Can I fit in your case?’
Even Paul Baxter hurried towards him. ‘Col, any chance of you writing something about your trip for the school magazine? It would make a great story.’
‘Do I look like a reporter?’ he had snapped back.
But in spite of that, something had changed in Paul’s attitude towards him. He wouldn’t let it go. ‘Maybe we could do an interview when you come back. Congratulations, by the way.’
And he had patted Col on the back and moved off.
Col wanted to be angry, wanted Paul Baxter to know he was angry. He was a McCann. He wasn’t the type to be patted on the back and congratulated by the likes of him. He wanted to run after him, challenge him to a fight. Instead, he just stood there in the playground glaring.
Only Denny understood. ‘Your Mungo won’t like it. Back in the papers again, eh?’
And that was the worst part. Denny was right.
When Col had gone home from the Sampsons and told his brother about the award, Mungo had leapt to his
feet, angrier than Col had ever seen him. ‘Do that family never give up? You’re no’ goin’ and that’s that!’
Col had already decided he wasn’t going because he knew the trouble it would cause. But Mungo ordering him not to go only got his back up.
‘What’s your problem with this, Mungo?’ he shouted at him. ‘It’s a free trip to London.’
‘See! You’ve changed already. You want to go to London! I’ll take ye to London. What do you want to go with the Sampsons for? Think they’re better than us? Is that it?’
Col thought he understood then. Mungo was afraid, afraid that seeing how the Sampsons lived would make him prefer them to his own family.
‘You and Mam can come as well, they said. I’ve already said I would only go if you two came. You’re my family.’
Mungo sneered at that. ‘Me and Mam go anywhere wi’ that bunch? You have got to be kiddin’. I knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. I just knew it.’
And it wasn’t.
The very next night, Bobby Grant came knocking at their door.
‘What the hell do you want?’ Mam said angrily as
soon as she saw him.
‘Keep your hair on, Mrs McCann. For once, it’s not Mungo I’m here to see. It’s your son Col. Hero of the hour. For once, I’m going to be able to say something nice about your family.’
He didn’t get another word out. From somewhere inside the house there was a fierce battlecry and Mungo suddenly appeared and dived at the reporter. He was caught totally unawares. One second he was standing on the doorstep, and the next he was tumbling down their front steps locked in a wrestling hold with Mungo.