Chapter 33
33
2001
It’s near the end of November. Mrs Warham is still cross. I can’t remember the last time she asked me to take the register to the office. I used to do that often. It’s a very important job. At least Mum is giving me ice cream on a Friday again. Every day, she asks me what’s been going on with Alice. She came in to see Mrs Warham a few days after Bonfire Night. Mum was very red in the face afterwards but gave me the thumbs up.
But I still dread school. My tummy hurts every morning. Since spilling the gravy, Alice has kept her distance, but she still sticks her tongue out and gets her friends to be mean to me instead. I pretend that it isn’t happening. Sometimes I hang out with the boys. Since the fun snaps, they’ve started asking if I want to play football. But not every day. My books help me to not feel as lonely. They don’t stick their leg out for me to trip over. They don’t pinch my arm or laugh at my glasses and hair. They aren’t mean like Alice’s group. Always there offering me escape from a life I hate, they are my best friends in the world – apart from Flint.
It’s Saturday and Mum’s boss, Ryan, is here. They are going to watch boxsets. It turns out they like the same shows. She asked if I wanted them to take me to the cinema. I shook my head. Now I hate the weekends too.
Mum did ask if I minded Ryan coming around to the house. What could I say? Yes. I hate having another man here doing Uncle Kevin’s things like making you laugh and helping you unblock the sink. And it’s not fair. You have a good friend. So should I. I hate you for making me stop seeing Flint . He’s much more fun than stupid Ryan .
However, Mum doesn’t know that I have a secret.
A big one.
I haven’t stopped seeing Flint after all.
I usually catch him on the way back from school. After Mum’s gone in, he appears outside and we chat. I even smuggled him inside yesterday. Mum ran a bath when I got home so I waited a while before me and Flint headed up to my bedroom with drinks, trying to keep in our giggles. Mum came in to ask what I wanted for tea and he hid under the bed. Flint stayed until my burger was ready. We agreed to meet in the treehouse today.
Mum lets me eat cheese and pickle sandwiches in my room for lunch. Afterwards I creep downstairs. I peek into the lounge. Mum and Ryan are on the sofa. His arm is around her. They are watching a programme with women in pretty dresses and men in suits. I go into the garden and quietly shut the back door. Mum has drawn the curtains so the telly is easier to watch. Good. She can’t see me squash through the fence and into Applegrove Wood.
I head to the tree house, my face turned downwards as I study pinecones and twisted roots. Perhaps I should find the woods scary but I don’t. All the fallen leaves are dead, and the sun can’t get through, but I’ve felt very sad lately and it matches my mood.
I reach the treehouse. Flint is waiting at the bottom of the ladder. Instantly I feel more cheerful.
‘ Ryan , Mum’s boss, is around,’ I say and pull a face.
Flint puts his fingers into his mouth and pretends to make himself sick. He climbs up the ladder first and goes in. I almost fall backwards when I reach the top.
‘Don’t be scared,’ says a man with a straggly beard and dirty coat. He has a rucksack and shoes with holes in. He looks a lot younger than Mum. I hover, not sure what to do. I look at Flint, who shrugs and sits down.
‘I must look a sight,’ says the man. ‘I haven’t washed for a week.’
Flint grins. Guess it is funny. Lucky man. I get bored of my nightly bath.
I wonder why he’s that dirty. Most adults are obsessed with soap. Slowly I go in.
‘You must smell,’ I say and sit down.
‘You get used to it after a while. Is this your treehouse?’
‘It’s ours,’ says Flint.
‘It’s a great place to read,’ I say.
‘Do you mind if I stay for a while? It’s cold outside today.’
‘Haven’t you got a home?’ asks Flint. ‘Where do you live?’
The man looks at us both. ‘I don’t have a home at the moment. My name’s Tim. Tim Pepperpot.’
‘I’m Violet Vaughan,’ I say, feeling very grown-up and wishing I had a fun surname like his. I jerk my head towards my best friend. ‘This is Flint. You mean you haven’t got anywhere to go? How did that happen?’
Tim looks from me to Flint and then back again. ‘You’re lucky to have each other. Friends are important. I’ve lost all of mine. I’ve been living on the streets for a year. I used to read a lot. Romances. My dad said I was soft.’
His bottom lip trembles. That told me his dad wasn’t a very nice person. I’m sorry for Tim despite all the dirt.
‘Would you ever go back home?’ I say.
Tim snorts. ‘Never. I’m happier on my own. Dad… he wasn’t like my mates’ parents. They never got laughed at or locked in a cupboard. I left as soon as I could.’
Poor Tim. His dad sounds like Alice.
‘But you haven’t got any money. How do you buy food?’ I ask.
‘I manage. Anything beats going back to live with that bully.’
That’s how I feel about school. I’d do anything not to have to go back on Monday.
‘You must be hungry,’ I say, a sinking feeling inside me as I think about the mean things that happen to me in the classroom, in the playground. ‘How about me and Flint get you some food?’ I look at Flint and he nods. ‘I don’t live far. Wait here?’
‘Really? That would be great. I haven’t eaten for two days.’
My tummy rumbles if I miss one meal. Me and Flint hurry down the ladder and run to my back garden. I go inside while Flint waits by the door. Mum hears me and I force myself into the lounge so that she doesn’t wonder what I’m doing. She says to zip up my coat if I’m going into the back garden. Says that in an hour we’ll go out for cake. I force myself to smile at Ryan.
Then I go into the kitchen and grab a packet of biscuits. Mum only buys two cans of Coke a week – we have one each, on Saturday night, as a treat. Tim needs mine more than I do. I stuff it into my coat pocket. I also take a banana. Five fruits a day is important. I don’t understand why. It’s not as if bodies can count. Sometimes the things teachers tell us to do are stupid.
I go outside and Flint and I hurry back. Tim is still there, blowing on his hands. He doesn’t say much. I’ve never seen anyone eat a whole packet of biscuits. Even though he’s starving, he offers me and Flint one each. Flint says no so I take two for myself. Tim finds that funny.
He says my purple glasses are pretty. No one has ever said that before. Tim tells us about a pet dog he once had. I tell him about Tinker. Tim is easy to talk to. He likes my coat. He says I’m a kind person and he’d like to be friends with me and Flint.
I don’t have many friends. This is good.
We have things in common. We don’t fit in. Most importantly, we both like reading. He tells me about his favourite childhood books. Tim also likes the woods and animals; he likes biscuits too. But most of all, Tim used to hate his life, just like I hate mine. But he did something about it and now he’s happy.
We agree to come back tomorrow morning with more food. On the way back to my house, Flint says that Tim is brave; that maybe running away from home isn’t so scary. His eyes shine as he says a life on the road, with someone like Tim, would be such an adventure.
We look at each other. The sign of a great friend is that you can read their mind and I know exactly what he is thinking.
The same as me.