When I Was Joe (27 page)

Old perv. I know what he's hoping for, and Ashley gives it all she's got.

‘We went out for a bit and at first I thought he was great but. . .' she wipes away a tear, ‘he wanted too much. Too much, too soon. And he's very forceful – pushy – in getting his own way. I had to finish with him. I was a bit scared.'

Oh my God. What is she accusing me of? Forceful? Pushy?

‘Is this true, Joe?'

Is what true? ‘I . . . I . . . I didn't think I was doing
anything wrong. Ashley . . . she said her parents made her chuck me because of what happened in the swimming pool. . .'

Now why did I have to remind him of that?

‘Ah, yes. You haven't had a very happy start at Parkview, have you? It's probably very different from what you're used to,' says Mr Naylor, like I'm a Neanderthal caveman or something. ‘Now, Claire's mother backs up what Ashley's been saying here. She tells me she's been very worried because you've spent hours on end locked in Claire's bedroom in the dark with her, and she's also worried that you might have been trying to pressurise her into something she wasn't ready for.'

Ashley's glaring at me.

‘Claire's my friend,' I say. ‘A really good friend. My best friend. I wasn't pressurising her . . . I saved her life yesterday. Didn't her mum mention that?'

‘She was very perturbed that you seemed to know that Claire had been regularly cutting herself yet had not sought help for her. She even suggested that you might have been involved somehow with this . . . this mutilation.'

‘I saved her life. . . I would never do anything bad to her.'

‘Joe, half the school saw you shouting at her and
pushing her around in the playground. I have a report here from the deputy head. She says Claire seemed terrified of you.'

‘No . . . really . . . I was just trying to help her. . . I took her to the nurse. Ask her . . . she'll say I was being nice. . .'

Mr Naylor turns to Ashley. ‘Ashley, thank you very much for coming here today. I am sorry if this has been difficult for you and I can assure you that we will do everything possible to protect you from aggressive behaviour in the future.'

This doesn't sound good. I try again.

‘Why don't you talk to Claire?' I plead. ‘She'll tell you I wasn't doing anything bad to her.'

‘In due course I will, I am sure. Now Ashley, if you go back to class I will talk to Joe alone.'

As Ashley leaves she shoots me a glance that makes it very obvious that the news that I've been spending time with Claire while officially still with her did not go unnoticed.

‘Joe,' says Mr Naylor, ‘bullying girls, bullying girls for sex, that is really the lowest of the low. Boys who don't understand that no means no are a danger to society.'

‘But I didn't. . .'

‘I am going to have to think very hard about how to deal with this. I shall need to speak to Ashley's parents
and also Claire's. I am going to suspend you for the rest of the day and . . . is your mother now returned?'

‘Yes.'

‘I would like to see both of you tomorrow morning, eleven o'clock. Now leave. And try not to get into any trouble between now and tomorrow. Do you think you can manage that?'

I nod – yes, you sarcastic old tosser – but I'm beginning to wonder. Maybe I'm destined to get into trouble again and again and again, and it's going to get worse and worse until fate or God or whatever has severely punished me for everything I'm getting away with.

Joe Andrews can't survive this. This is beyond bad. Sexual harassment? Or was Ashley suggesting something even worse? But what the hell can I do?

Claire's mum and dad. I need to talk to them, explain, make them understand. Maybe they can explain to Mr Naylor that I'm actually a hero. I need to go to the hospital and find them. I need to go now. But I really don't feel up to telling Mum I've been suspended again.

I go to the nurse's office. ‘Hello again,' she says. I tell her that I think I'm about to vomit. It's not altogether untrue. ‘You are looking pale,' she says. She calls home and I can hear Mum's voice at the end of the line saying, ‘I don't even know why he went in today. I told him last night he wouldn't be up to it.'

Twenty minutes later Mum and I are walking out
of the school gates. Alastair's Ford Fiesta is parked outside – so he
did
stay the night. I decide I don't care. I have enough to worry about. ‘Can you take me to the hospital?' I ask.

‘I didn't know you were feeling that ill, darling,' says Mum, all concerned, and I say, ‘No, I'm not, but I want to see Claire. I need to see her now.'

So they drive me to the hospital and insist on coming in with me, which I'm not happy about, but then we find out that Claire's just been discharged and so it's good, really, that they are there to drive me to her house.

‘Look, I'll leave you here,' says Alastair. ‘I think it'd be a bit much for everyone if I come too.'

‘Mum, you go with him,' I say, but she replies, ‘D'you know what, I'm a bit fed up with taking orders from you. I think I should know what's been going on.' As I walk slowly to Claire's front door she gives Alastair a kiss, a long lingering kiss – this is so
not
the moment – and he says, ‘I'll call you later.'

She catches me up and rings the doorbell. Claire's dad comes to the door. He looks tired and annoyed. ‘We've only just got back from the hospital,' he says. ‘It'd be better if you could come back later.'

‘Please,' I say, ‘I really need to talk to you, to you and Janet. I don't have to bother Claire if you don't want me to.'

‘If you'd be kind enough to give him some time,' says Mum. ‘He's very upset over what happened.'

He scratches his head and says, ‘Look, son, we owe you because she could have been dead if you hadn't helped her out when you did. Come in and we'll have a chat.'

He takes us through to the kitchen and we sit down at the big table. Then he disappears upstairs for a long time. As we wait I look around. There are so many pictures of Ellie, so much stuff that belongs to the boys, but you'd never know Claire lived in this house. But what made her so invisible – was it her, or did the rest of her family just not leave her enough space? What would Claire be like if she was an only child like me?

Eventually they come and sit at the table with us. Janet and Gareth. Two nice people who look about ten years older than they did last time I saw them. Janet has little red puffy eyes and the tip of her nose is scarlet. Gareth's face is white under his freckles. And now they are here, I don't know what to say. Lucky that my Mum tagged along.

‘Janet, Gareth, we're just so sorry about Claire,' she says. ‘I'm sorry to intrude, but Joe was anxious to find out how she was. He had quite a shock.'

‘Did he now?' says Janet in a cold voice that you wouldn't think could come from such a kind person.
‘Well, we'd like to talk to him, find out what's really been going on.'

They all look at me. I don't know where to begin. It's hard when you suspect people are thinking bad things about you but they haven't said them yet.

‘I knew she was cutting herself, but she said she would stop,' I say. ‘I was trying to help her . . . she's my friend. . .' I fade to silence. I can feel massive hostility radiating from the other side of the table.

‘How did you know this about Claire?' says Janet. ‘What have you been doing to her, locked in her room? We trusted you, Joe, invited you into our home . . . made you feel welcome. . .'

‘I didn't do anything to Claire. Really nothing. We were only talking.' I'm getting a little bit louder. It's not nice to be accused of things you haven't done.

‘Talking about what?'

‘Just things. I like talking to Claire and I think she likes talking to me.'

‘Oh yes, she certainly likes you all right,' says Janet, and she sounds like she's only just holding herself back from screaming at me. ‘Crazy about you. I just wonder what else was going on apart from talking.' I bet she did notice about the shirt buttons that time.

‘He's said they were just talking,' says Mum.
‘Are you accusing him of lying?'

‘Well . . . you must admit it's a bit suspicious. I mean, no offence, but they are very different. Claire's so young for her age, very shy, very quiet. She's still a child. Joe's so streetwise, and he seems much older. What would they have in common?'

Streetwise is just one harmless word, but she rolls a lot more into it: dirty, violent, chav, liar, molester and ASBO, with just a touch of pram-face as well. I tense, waiting for my mum to explode.

‘Maybe they were both a bit lonely and looking for a friend,' she says, and I could hug her.

‘I didn't do anything bad to Claire,' I say. ‘It's true. . . I totally respect her and I care about her and I think she's the nicest person I've ever met. To be honest, we did kiss twice, but nothing bad, really nothing . . . please ask her. Ask her if I did anything bad to her.' I'm almost crying by the time I get to the end of this speech, mainly from complete and utter embarrassment.

They're all looking a bit more sympathetic. This might be all right. But then I remember. I did do something bad to Claire. I did bully her. Here in this kitchen. Janet's watching me intently and she says, ‘What's going on, Joe? Why do you suddenly look like that? Why are you chewing your lip?'

‘I . . . just remembered something.'

They're all waiting. My mouth is completely dry.

‘I . . . I was mean to Claire. Once. Here. But not in the way that Mr Naylor means.'

This means nothing to them as – thank God – they weren't there to hear what Mr Naylor had to say. But I've said enough anyway.

‘What the hell did you do to our daughter?' shouts Gareth, and I think for a minute that he's going to punch me.

‘I . . . I . . . she found out a secret and I just sort of scared her, sort of hurt her, just a little bit so she wouldn't tell. But I did apologise, I really did, and I think she understood.'

I catch a quick glimpse of Mum's face and have to look away. She's looking disgusted, frightened and sad all at once. Janet gets up. ‘I think we've heard enough. I think you'd better leave now, Joe, and don't bother Claire again. And I'm going to tell Ellie to stop training with you as well.'

‘But can't I just see Claire?' I ask hopelessly. ‘Just to explain . . . to say goodbye?'

‘I don't think that's a good idea, is it?' says Janet, and Mum says, ‘Come on now, you've said enough.'

She gets up and turns to Claire's parents: ‘I had no idea . . . no idea about any of this. He's never acted
remotely like this in his life before. I can't apologise enough.'

We're walking towards the front door and I'm walking out of Claire's life forever and I don't know how I'm going to do it. And then I hear her voice.

‘What's going on?'

I turn around. She's standing at the top of the stairs, wrapped up in a dressing gown, hood pulled up over her head. She looks pale and small and her hair is all over her face again. She could be about ten years old. I can't bear not to say goodbye. And I run up the stairs and pull her into my arms.

‘You get down here at once,' yells Claire's dad, but I can't because Claire is clinging on to me. We must look like Little Red Riding Hood and the big bad wolf. I'm the wolf, obviously.

‘Claire, I'm sorry, I told them about that time in the kitchen . . . and they're all furious with me, and they don't want us to see each other again . . . I'm sorry, it was my fault. . .'

Her face is buried in my shirt and all I can feel are her arms around me. Just for a moment I feel safe and loved. And then she takes my hand and sits down on the top stair, pulling me down next to her. She pushes her hair away from her face. ‘We're going to talk about this,' she says. ‘Joe's not going anywhere.'

It's quite funny really. They're all looking up at us cuddled together and no one's saying anything. Then her mum says, ‘For heaven's sake, Claire, you ought to be in bed,' and Claire says, ‘I'm not going back to bed unless Joe comes with me,' and she blushes bright red and I think I do too, because that wasn't the most helpful thing to say just now.

Mum says, ‘Why don't we all go upstairs, then Claire can lie down and we can all talk a bit more?'

And everyone seems to agree that's a good idea, so we go into Janet and Gareth's bedroom and Claire gets into the big double bed and I sit down nervously by her side and the three parents stand over us.

Janet says, ‘Claire, Joe's just admitted hurting you. We can't allow you to go on seeing him, love. You don't want friends like that.'

Claire looks tiny and pale and weak, but she's really determined.

‘Mum, in case you hadn't noticed, I haven't got any other friends. Joe only hurt me for about twenty seconds, then he immediately started begging me to be his friend. He thought he was being all scary but I could tell he was just putting it on. He was scared, I could see. He apologised, and he explained and I understood why he did it. He would never do it again.'

I'm really hopeful after she says this, but then my
mum opens her big mouth.

‘Claire,' she says, and she's not looking at me. ‘Claire, it's never acceptable for a boy to hurt a girl. Never. Not even for twenty seconds.'

I can't believe she's doing this to me. I'm her son. Doesn't she care about me? How can she? Why?

And then she says, ‘Believe me, I know what I'm talking about,' and I know. It's like I never knew and I always knew. I know why my dad disappeared out of our lives all those years ago. And I know what we're both scared of in me.