When I Was Joe (25 page)

‘Oi! Go away! This room is private!' I protest.

‘You've got no secrets from me,' she says. Huh. That's what she thinks. I don't bother to reply.

‘Are you OK, darling? I'm sorry about what
happened.'

She doesn't sound sorry at all.

‘You should be ashamed of yourself,' I say.

‘Well, I was a bit embarrassed. But he's a really nice guy, and guess what, Ty? I think I've got a job!'

‘What job?' I ask suspiciously.

‘Well, Ellie asked if I'd think about being her helper because she's fed up with the sort of girls she gets usually and she'd like someone a bit more on her wavelength. And Alistair thought it was a good idea too.'

‘And that was him giving you your final interview, I suppose?'

‘Oh come on, Ty, it was a party and we were just getting to know each other. We were having a chat and then he gave me a quick kiss. It was just unfortunate that you walked in just then. He's asked me out for a drink tomorrow night. Where were you anyway? I couldn't see you anywhere.'

Huh. That is classified information. I'm thinking about this idea of her helping Ellie. Mum'd be hanging around my school all the time. She'd get to know Mr Henderson. She'd be there when I was doing my training. It's a terrible idea.

Also it's totally wrong for my Mum. A helper has to look after the other person, doesn't she – help with things like showers and getting changed and so on? I would say
I'm uniquely placed to judge that she'll be unsuited to that kind of role.

‘What do you mean, you could be Ellie's helper? That's not what you do. You're a qualified legal secretary and you want to be a solicitor.'

‘Yes, but it'll do for now, won't it? And it could be interesting, and I like Ellie a lot.'

There's something incredibly sad about my ambitious, hard-working, clever mother saying, ‘It'll do for now.'

‘She'll boss you around all the time.'

‘No, she won't.'

‘And you'll have to go away with her when she has training camps and competitions and then I'll be left here on my own.'

‘Janet said you could stay with them. She really loved the idea, thought it would take a big strain off their family.'

I think she means Janet loved the idea of Ellie having Mum as a helper. I can't see her being thrilled about me as a house guest. Presumably this invitation was issued before she discovered me in Claire's room. But if she would have me to stay, it'd be fantastic to spend more time with Claire, not to mention the excellent food in that house . . . and the Wii. . .

‘Do what you want. But you're not coming to my
training sessions.' And I cover my head with the duvet to indicate that I've had enough of her today.

‘It's not all about you, you know,' she says as she switches off the light and shuts the door.

In the morning, Carl's there when I get to the fitness suite. “Hello, mate,” he says, sounding a bit nervous. Neither of us is quite sure how to play this, but both of us want to hang on to the access cards. So we work out a programme for him based on the one Ellie did for me. As we're getting changed afterwards, he suggests that I play football with his mates at lunchtime so he can give me some tips. I'm not sure though, because I'm wary of Jordan and Louis, and because my ribs may not be ready for football yet.

‘Don't worry about Jordan and Louis, they'll behave themselves,' he says. And then he adds, ‘And they'll keep their distance from you anyway because of you-know-what.'

‘What?' I ask.

‘What?' he echoes.

‘What's you-know-what?' I ask.

‘Your . . . you know . . . knife.'

‘What knife?'

‘They said you threatened them with a knife at the park one day.'

My heart is racing but my face is calm.

‘You what? Christ, dem boys have been watching too much telly,' I say. My voice seems to be sliding back to East London.

‘They said it.'

‘Nah . . . I didn't need no knife to scare them off. You know, Carl, they act all brave but they ain't got no bottle.'
Bo'ul,
I pronounce it, and it gives me a flash of Arron's face as I say it, Arron saying, ‘He ain't got no bo'ul,' and meaning me – ‘They made it up to make themselves sound like big men but, you know, I just had to show them this . . .' I turn my hand into a fist, ‘and they ran off, peein' their pants.'

He laughs a bit nervously and I think I've got away with it.

‘Don't worry about it,' he says. ‘See you at lunchtime.'

But I do worry about it. If this story gets to the head teacher then Joe Andrews will be excluded from school and exterminated by Doug. Then Tyler Lewis will probably be charged with murder. Because if they think I'm regularly waving a knife around, then they'll believe the people who say I was involved that day in another park far, far away. I think and think about what I can do to stop anyone talking, but I can't come up with an answer short of mass murder and obviously that's not the way to go.

Claire and I manage to pair up in Science and I forget all my worries. She's very serious about the work, and it's sweet the way she scrunches her face up when she looks at the test tube to read measurements out for me to write down. She's clipped her hair back from her face and she's wearing summer uniform, her arms covered with a cardigan. She's beginning to look normal. I scribble a note in faint pencil on my table of measurements:
I like your hair like that
, and she blushes and spends ages rubbing it out.

I whisper to her, ‘Was your mum very cross?' and she nods and then writes another pencil note which says,
It's OK, I think
.

When we've finished and are clearing up, I tell her about Mum's plan to be Ellie's helper. She says, ‘I know, they were talking about it last night. Ellie's really pleased. She thinks your mum will be great.'

‘I don't know . . . it's not really her sort of thing.'

She looks at the test tube she's drying and says, ‘Mum said you'll come and stay sometimes.' And when she looks up, we've both got silly grins on our faces.

‘No talking,' shouts the teacher, and we get ready for Maths. It's the first time I've ever been sad to finish a Science lesson.

Playing football with Carl's lot goes well at
lunchtime. I take Brian and his mates along with me and they join in too. Carl mixes up the teams so we're not obliterated. He offers some good tips – ‘You're faster than anyone on the pitch but you need to think about passing the ball. Your problem, mate, is that you forget you've got anyone else on your team.' – and I even score a goal, so I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself when we hear the bell go for the end of lunch.

But Ashley is waiting for me as I come off the football pitch. ‘Walk with me?' she says, and I know it's an order.

‘OK.' I can see people all around us noticing that we're together and nudging each other.

‘How are you?' she asks.

‘I'm fine.'

‘Not missing me then?'

‘I didn't say that.'

She's got her full warpaint on today and I don't fancy her at all, thank goodness.

‘So . . . are you seeing anyone else then?'

‘Give me a chance, Ash, we've not been split up for five minutes.' And anyway, what business is it of yours?

‘Because I saw you with that retard Claire in Science.'

What? I can't believe it. ‘I . . . you . . . what?'

‘I saw you. Smiling at her . . . touching her hand. . .'

Bloody hell. ‘And so? Your point is?' I say, cold and distant.

‘Well, it doesn't look good for me, does it, if you split up with me and immediately start going out with the dorkiest girl in the year. I want you to keep away from that minger.'

I stop still and say, ‘You can't talk about her like that. You shouldn't talk about anyone like that.' People are jostling all around us and I'm sure some of them are listening.

‘Oooh,' she says, ‘so you do like her? I didn't really believe it.'

‘She's my friend. And you don't have any right to tell me who to be friends with.'

‘I can tell you that she's a weirdo. And I can tell you that if she ever took her cardigan off, you wouldn't like what you'd see underneath.' And she laughs, a really nasty, sneery laugh.

‘You bitch!' I say. I want to hit her. My hand flies up and I'm ready to lash out.

Then Brian bashes into me and says, ‘Steady, mate.' And I come to my senses and lower my hand.

And there's a crowd of people all around and Ashley's laughing and saying, ‘If you want to know any more about your little friend, just come and ask me, any time.' And I hear a squeaking sob and Claire's running away,
pushing through the crowd to escape into the playground.

Should I run after her? I'm tempted to go off to my next lesson, let her recover on her own and not give the gossips anything more to chew on. But when do I ever do the right thing? Instead, I push my way through the crowds streaming into their classrooms then sprint after her and, being pretty fast, I catch up with her in the middle of the playground.

That's the middle of the deserted playground, overlooked by about fifty classrooms all packed with people.

‘Come on, we can still get to PE,' I shout.

I thought she'd be crying but she isn't. She's white-faced and her fists are pressing to her mouth. She's looking from side to side, like a mouse cornered by a cat, desperate to escape. She gasps, ‘Go away,' in what
would be a fierce whisper if it hadn't had a hiccup in the middle that sounded like another sob.

‘I'm not going away. Tell you what, I'll take you to the nurse. But we need to go inside right now.' And I jerk my head towards the watching windows, grab her elbow and pull her towards the door.

She gives a little yelp. And then she follows me inside and I can see the tears coming so I search my pockets for a handkerchief, but of course I haven't got one. I nobly offer my tie instead. She shakes her head and pulls a tissue out of her cardigan pocket.

A teacher comes out into the corridor and asks us what we think we're doing. ‘Claire isn't feeling very well so I'm taking her to the nurse,' I say.

‘Do you even know where the nurse's office is? Because it's not along here,' she says, looking curiously at Claire.

‘Yes, we're just going.' And we walk along the corridor to the flight of stairs that leads to the sick room.

‘Look, it's OK, it's OK,' I say as we get there. ‘Ashley's only shown herself up as a complete bitch. No one knows anything about you. You have nothing to worry about.'

‘I. . .' but she can't say anything.

I knock on the door and tell the nurse that Claire
has a migraine. She takes one look and puts her arm around Claire. ‘I'll come and see you later,' I say. ‘I hope you're feeling better soon.'

I sprint to the PE department. I should be swimming but I'm actually going to be sorting vile-smelling lost property. Carl's already knee-deep in ancient knickers and crusty shorts.

‘Blimey,' he says, ‘what was all that about in the playground? You looked like you were fighting her.'

“What? You couldn't see us from here.”

“Mate, the whole school was watching,” he says. “We were all late for PE. What's the story?”

‘Women,' I say. ‘You know what they're like.'

‘Too right,' says Carl, and we sort the smelly piles into labelled and non-labelled while discussing Man Utd's prospects for the next season which, frankly, is exactly the kind of conversation I need right now, and by the end of the period I feel like Carl's my main man.

I want to make a swift exit, but they're all waiting for me. Lauren, Emily, Dani and Becca. Only Ashley's nowhere to be seen.

‘What happened?' asked Becca. ‘What happened to Claire? What were you doing in the playground? Had she had . . . you know . . . some kind of mental breakdown?'

I shrug. ‘She wasn't feeling well. Had to go to the nurse. Migraine.'

‘Yes, but what was it all about?' says Becca. ‘Why were you shouting at her?'

‘You're not seeing her, are you?' asks Lauren in a way that suggests that only someone very strange would have anything to do with Claire.

‘Maybe she's got some sort of weird crush on you?' suggests Dani.

‘What was Ashley going on about?' says Emily.

‘Look, it's not for me to say what's going on in Ashley's mind. First she chucks me, and then she bitches about Claire because we happen to be friends.'

‘Friends?' says Emily, like she can't believe her ears.

‘Yup. Friends. I do athletics training with her sister, right. I know the whole family.'

‘Yes, but
Claire
. . .'

I'm worried that I'm going to start blushing. ‘There's nothing wrong with Claire. She's just a bit shy.'

As soon as I can shake them off I go back to the nurse's room. But Claire's not there. ‘She left about five minutes ago,' says the nurse. ‘What a shame, she could have done with someone to see her home. She was in a bit of a state.'

‘You didn't ring her mum?'

‘At work. Claire said she was OK to walk home.'

I don't think this is a good idea. What if Ashley's lying in wait for her? I'd follow her right away but I have to meet Ellie at the running track. As I walk there my mind's on Claire. She'll go home, no one will be there and . . . oh, my God.

I sprint up to Ellie, yelling, ‘Keys, Ellie, keys. I need your house keys.'

‘What on earth. . .?' says Ellie, but she fishes her keys out of her bag and gives them to me.

‘I'm going to run to your house. Can you get there really quickly too? It's Claire . . . she's in danger. . . '