Authors: Cathy MacPhail
‘Do you wish your mother was going with you?’ Klaus asked him.
‘I sometimes think you’re a mind reader,’ Col said. ‘Yeah. I wish she was. I wish someone was. Somebody, just for me. But …’ He hesitated, because he didn’t want to talk about his mother. It was as if he was betraying her. ‘But I understand. My mam’s really quite shy. I mean, she kids on she’s loud and dead cheery and everything, but she gets really nervous meeting new people. And she’s scared stiff of flyin’.’
But he didn’t really believe that. His mam always preferred to be with Mungo. Her favourite. He hated to admit it, but had always accepted it. Until now, when he wanted her with
him
so much.
Klaus was smiling, there in the shadows. He didn’t look well, Col thought, watching him. It couldn’t be good for him sleeping on a cold stone floor night after night. ‘I think you should go to the cops, Klaus.’
Klaus was suddenly on his feet, the duvet slipping to the floor. ‘No, Col! Promise me you won’t tell about me. I trust you.’
Col was offended. ‘I’m hardly likely to tell on you after all this time, am I?’
Klaus smiled again. ‘It’s nice you worry about me,
Col. You’re the only friend I have made since I came here. The only one I do trust. I’ll find a way to get home, you wait and see.’
Col stood up, too, ready to go. ‘You’ll be careful while I’m away?’ He was thinking of Mungo, roaming the streets at night, looking for trouble. Imagining him wandering up here, finding Klaus. Why should he be so worried about Klaus? Yet, he was.
‘I will be very careful,’ Klaus assured him. ‘When are you off to London?’
‘Next Monday, and I bet I have some great stories to tell you when I get back.’
The atmosphere in the London hotel was electric. On the ground floor, a massive function room was being set up for the award ceremony that evening. Television cameras were already in place, the whole hotel was buzzing.
‘Highlights on BBC News,’ Mr Sampson told them. ‘One of their top newsreaders is the master of ceremonies.’
Their rooms were on the third floor. Dominic and Col were sharing the room adjacent to Mr and Mrs Sampson, and Ella was in a single room down the hall.
‘It’s not fair,’ she moaned. ‘My room’s not half as nice
as theirs. And I’m stuck away down there on my own. Why couldn’t I have brought a friend?’
‘Because you’ve not got any.’ Dominic smirked, and Ella kicked him.
‘Ella! You’re lucky you came at all. It was only supposed to be Col and Dominic. We insisted you come too, and we had to pay for you. So shut up and enjoy yourself.’ Mr Sampson refused to take Ella seriously. He was in a great mood, humming as he unpacked, looking forward to every minute of this trip, determined everyone should enjoy it to the full.
‘This is such a wonderful time for us,’ he confided to Col when he was in the boys’ room helping Dominic put his clothes away. ‘Things for us could have been so tragically different, if it hadn’t been for you, Col. So, I’m not going to let anything spoil it.’
Dominic came running from the en suite bathroom. ‘Come and see the size of this, Col. It’s humungous. And we’ve got two toilets!’
Col burst out laughing. So did Mr Sampson. ‘Two toilets! What am I going to do with that boy?’
They were to be ready for the reception downstairs at seven o’clock. With three males in kilts to get ready,
Mrs Sampson was running from one to the other. There were ties to be knotted, and laces to be tied. At one point, Mr Sampson trooped into the boys’ room in disgust. ‘Look at that!’ He held out the ceremonial dagger that slid into the sock. ‘A plastic skean-dhu! Can you believe it!’
Mrs Sampson laughed. ‘William Wallace wouldn’t have done much damage with that.’
Ella was behind him, still trying to help with his tie. She sneered at Col. ‘In your case, I can see the point of a plastic skean-dhu. Much safer for everyone.’
Col said nothing. The skean-dhu tucked into his sock was the real thing. Ice cold steel.
‘Somebody’s going to have to help me,’ Dominic wailed. He came out of the bathroom, still in his underwear and carrying his kilt. ‘I haven’t a clue how to put this on.’
Miraculously, they were all ready in time. Mrs Sampson looked stunning in a pale blue beaded dress and, Col had to admit, even Miserella looked pretty good. Her dress was silky and short and if she could only manage a smile, she might even look as stunning as her mother.
Mrs Sampson stood back to survey the three men.
She beamed with pride. ‘You all look wonderful,’ she said, smiling especially at Col. ‘My Col, you do look handsome in a kilt.’
Ella sniggered. ‘Yes, you should wear a frock more often.’
Col wouldn’t get annoyed at her. He had decided to take a leaf out of Mr Sampson’s book. He was excited and wanted to savour every moment. Anyway, he had a feeling that Ella wasn’t as miserable as she pretended to be. That she was just as excited at the thought of tonight as he was.
There was a host of celebrities at the Act of Courage Awards. Dominic was overwhelmed.
‘I’ve seen that one on TV. What’s her name?’ He pointed out a red-haired glamour girl, who was wearing a dress with no back to it.
Mrs Sampson tutted when she saw it. ‘Wearing a dress like that! This is a children’s award ceremony, after all.’
Dominic grew even more excited. ‘Look! That’s the one who does the gardening programme!’
Famous faces flitted in and out of the crowd, smiling, talking, shaking hands.
Suddenly, Ella was jumping up and down with excitement. ‘It’s my favourite band. They’re here. All of them. They’re totally gorgeous!’
Col followed her gaze to a smarmy-looking group of boys. He thought they looked stupid, not gorgeous. She let out a series of excited yells. For once she forgot to be cool. ‘I’ve got to get their autographs. I’ve got to!’
Col and Dominic looked at each other. ‘Is she embarrassing, or what?’ Dominic said.
The round tables in the function room were festooned with flowers and balloons and at the far end a stage with microphones and a lectern stood ready for the presentations after the meal.
The meal they were treated to was sumptuous. Melon, and soup, and peach sorbet, and the angry-eyed salmon that was laid on the table for the main course seemed to stare straight at Col. ‘It looks as if it’s ready to eat me!’ Col laughed.
The meal, however, didn’t suit Dominic. ‘Could I get pie and chips?’ he asked a waiter.
Ella was mortified. ‘Pie and chips! We can’t take you anywhere.’
But the waiter only laughed and whispered to Dominic, ‘Tonight, nothing’s a problem. I’ll make
sure you get your pie and chips.’
And he did.
‘He must be under the impression that you’re the hero,’ Ella told him sarcastically.
‘He’s really nice. I like him,’ Dominic said.
Just then, the BBC newsreader who was hosting the event announced that after a short interval the awards would be presented.
‘That’s what I want to be when I grow up,’ Dominic said, dreamily.
‘A BBC newsreader?’ Col asked.
‘No. A waiter,’ Dominic corrected him. ‘I think that would be a brilliant job. You would meet so many interesting people.’
Col laughed so much Ella looked at him suspiciously. Now I’ve saved the life of a future waiter, he thought to himself.
Col was amazed when the award ceremony began in earnest. One by one, as their deeds were extolled by the newsreader, each young hero strode up to the stage to tumultuous applause and was awarded their trophy by a chosen celebrity.
The boy who, in spite of being badly injured himself, had saved his father from freezing to death by going for
the mountain rescue team when his father was injured. The girl whose face was scarred for life because she ran back into a burning building to save her sister, then threw her down to waiting firemen before being rescued herself.
Could he have done that?
No. That was real bravery. What he had done wasn’t brave. He hadn’t even wanted to save Dominic. He had been prepared to let him drown, let him die in that icy loch. He had even been on the verge of stealing from him. How ashamed he was of that now. No. What he had done he’d done without thinking. It had been as natural as snapping your hand away from a window as it was about to slam shut on your fingers.
No. What he’d done wasn’t brave. But this, all of this, was bravery.
He felt ashamed. He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t a hero. He was a fraud. If he had the courage he would walk out, go home right now. But he wasn’t even brave enough to do that.
Then, while all this was going through his head, his name was called. It was his turn.
The story was told of Columba McCann, who had saved the life of a complete stranger, Dominic Sampson, in the freezing misty waters of a loch, and of how he himself had almost died. It was a wonderful story. It didn’t sound like him at all.
Ella nudged him in the ribs and whispered, ‘Columba? Where did you get a name like that!’
If it had been anyone else but Ella he might have cringed with embarrassment, but Ella got his hackles up and for the first time he was proud of his name. ‘Mam called both her sons after Scottish saints. That’s how Mungo got his name.’
‘You! Called after a saint!’ Ella began to snigger but she was cut short by her mother slapping her on the hand.
‘I think it’s a wonderful name, Col.’
He had to be pushed to his feet when the time came. He was nervous, and felt even more that he didn’t deserve to be here. He just didn’t want to walk up on to that stage. He glanced at the other children gathered here. They were the real heroes, not him. He felt humble.
‘Look who’s giving you your award!’ Ella screeched.
Col looked and saw the boy band she’d been eyeing up throughout the meal.
Nevertheless, the hall erupted in applause as Col strode to the podium, his kilt swinging proudly round him. He seemed to get an even bigger cheer because of it.
The band looked even younger when he got close to them. Not much older than Col himself.
‘If there’s ever anything we can do for you, Col …’ one of them said in a soft, lilting, Irish accent as he gave him the award, a silver plaque set in midnight blue velvet.
‘And don’t say,
stop singing
!’ one of the others yelled leading to more applause.
‘Something you could do for me?’ Col thought for a second. He was in such a wonderful mood, he didn’t have to think for long.
He pointed towards his table. ‘See that girl sitting over there, the right miserable looking one? Could you give her your autograph?’
Ella’s jaw actually did fall open. Now she really looked stupid.
The lead singer held his hand over his eyes as if he was scanning the horizon. ‘Ah yes, I see her … is that your girlfriend?’
Now, Col’s jaw dropped open. He began to protest so strongly he was making the whole audience laugh.
‘Is she, heck!’ he yelled.
The applause and the laughter continued until he got back to his table. He expected Ella to be raging with anger for embarrassing her. But she was too delighted to be getting her own heroes’ autographs.
After the awards had been presented, the real celebrations began. There was music, dancing, and cameras flashing as photographs were taken to mark the event.
Ella was in heaven as her band came and led her away, laughing and joking. Mrs Sampson, sipping champagne, edged over to Col and congratulated him again. ‘Would you like to go and phone your mother?’
Col nodded. ‘I’d like that.’ He checked his watch. ‘She’s bound to be home from bingo by now.’
Mrs Sampson laughed. ‘Phone from your room then.’
But Col didn’t want to go back to his room. He didn’t want to leave the atmosphere of this night for a second. Mrs Sampson pointed out the phone booths in the foyer and even gave him a handful of coins.
His mother was in. Lifting the phone before the second ring as if she’d been sitting there just waiting. He babbled out everything that had happened as fast as he could. Told her, too, how much he wished she was there with him.
‘But it’s all right, Mam,’ he went on, not wanting her to feel guilty. ‘I understand, and I’ll have plenty of stories to tell you when I get back. And plenty of photographs. There’s even gonna be a video.’
‘I’ll look forward to seeing that,’ she said.
‘Is Mungo in?’ he asked. He was desperate to tell his brother about the night, hoped he, too, might have been sitting by the phone waiting for his call.
Some hope. Nothing kept his brother in.
‘You’ll be back tomorrow, son, and you can tell him all about it then.’
Col put the phone down, trying not to feel homesick. He was trying not to wish so hard that his mother and his brother were here with him to share the night.
And that’s when he saw him. He was sure of it.
Klaus.
Somewhere by the hotel entrance, among a throng of people milling around the foyer.
Klaus?
He pushed his way forward, jumping up and down to get a clearer view.
‘Klaus!’ he shouted. ‘Klaus!’
And there he was again. This time he saw Col too, and waited, smiling.
Col couldn’t hide his surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’
Klaus shrugged. ‘Thought you would like someone here, just for you.’
‘You came all this way … just for me?’
‘You brought me food. You thought about me when no one else did. So I came.’
Col eyed him as if he were crazy. He thought he was crazy. And yet, he was so pleased to see him, so pleased he actually
had
come all this way for him. ‘But how did you get here?’
He didn’t wait for his answer. ‘Did you hitch all the way here?’
Klaus nodded.
Col couldn’t believe it. ‘All this way, just for me?’ He was truly touched.
Klaus sighed. He looked even paler than usual. In fact, he looked sick. Dark circles under his eyes, white ashen face.
He’s going to die if I don’t help him, Col thought. And he knew he didn’t want that.
‘You are my only friend, Col. You’re going to help me, aren’t you?’
But how could he help him? What could he do? Yet, he knew he had to do something. In a flash, he knew what that something might be.