They stand together by the front door and wait for Mrs. Swinson. It’s obvious that Ben has been crying, for his eyes are all bloodshot, but Tommy doesn’t say anything to him. Today his brother’s school uniform hangs sloppily, and Ben looks as though he needs more sleep. Mrs. Swinson, however, has put on her powdered face as she tries to look bright and breezy, but as far as Tommy is concerned, she resembles a clown, and she smells of dog. She retrieves the black umbrella that’s leaning up to the side of the door and looks daggers at them both.
“Well, have you anything to say before we set off?”
Tommy defiantly gives her the eye and watches her crabby face curdle into contempt.
“I didn’t think so.”
It has rained overnight, and as they attempt to match Mrs. Swinson’s brisk pace, they keep an eye out for the slack water in the gutter, which sprays up every time a car or bus races by. When they reach the school, Tommy sees two older boys in the playground who stand together, bags abandoned on the rain-drenched ground between them, quietly arguing as though their lives depended upon whatever point they were trying to make. As Tommy passes by the boys, he catches sight of their prefect badges, and he assumes they have to get to school early to carry out some duty or other to which they’ve been assigned. To the side of the gymnasium, a mopey boy of about his own age is kicking a football up against the wall with a hypnotically monotonous rhythm, and Tommy notices that the boy’s school shoes have already been scratched so badly that no amount of polishing is going to help. Only a few vehicles are parked in the staff car park, and being a new boy, he’s not sure which car belongs to which teacher. Mrs. Swinson leads them inside the main school doors and pads her way down the long corridor and knocks loudly on the staff room door.
A grim-faced Mr. Hedges carries his mug of coffee with him from the staff room. When he and his party reach the classroom, he tells the two boys to sit at the two desks in the middle of the front row. Mr. Hedges takes a sip of his coffee as he crosses the room and shuts the classroom door, and then he moves back to Mrs. Swinson’s side, and the two adults look down at them both. Mr. Hedges takes another sip and then rests the mug on his desk; he takes the watch from the woman and fingers it as though he has been asked to place a value upon the timepiece.
“Well, I’m not aware of any boy reporting a missing watch.”
Tommy stares at him, daring him to ask a question. Mr. Hedges turns to the woman with the umbrella.
“And did Thomas tell you where he got the watch?”
“He took a watch that isn’t his. In my books that’s stealing.”
“He found it,” Ben shouts. “She said Tommy took it, but he never did. She’s a liar.”
Mr. Hedges holds up his hand with the watch in it. “Now steady on a minute. There’s no need for that sort of thing.”
“She called me a liar and our Tommy a thief, but it’s her who’s lying. He found it on the changing room floor, and he was going to give it back. Our Tommy just wanted to show it to me.”
“Is that right, Thomas?”
He nods, but he can’t take his eyes from his impassioned brother. Mrs. Swinson snorts, then laughs.
“The pair of them must think we’re simple. I mean, come off it, look at them. Getting the truth out of kids like them is like trying to get blood out of a stone. They’d steal the milk right out of your coffee. Somebody’s parents will have saved like billy-o to buy that watch as a birthday present or a Christmas gift.” She glares directly at Tommy. “You can’t just take it and not expect consequences.”
Mr. Hedges looks at the woman and tries to work out why she’s so angry. She’s not exactly acting like a guardian, but he generally does everything possible to avoid extracurricular situations, which is why he was so taken aback that this woman thought it perfectly fine to come hammering on the staff room door with her loud demands that he listen to what she had to say about one of “his boys.” She points at Tommy. “Honestly, Mr. Hedges, I think that one’s a bit funny in the head, and if you ask me, they both want a good clout to brighten up their ideas.” Mr. Hedges considers the red-faced woman, then looks at the two resolute boys, who sit quietly behind the small desks, and then at the watch in his hand.
“You know, perhaps you two boys should step out into the playground.” He addresses Tommy. “Is it alright if I hold on to this watch for now?”
Tommy nods and stands.
“I’ll have a word with you both, in here, at dinnertime, alright?”
They look at Mr. Hedges, whose stony face flashes them a quick smile as they file past him and out of the classroom.
* * *
Ben and Tommy stand together in the playground. They watch Mrs. Swinson pass slowly through the school gates and then turn left. It has started to rain again, but she walks with the umbrella still rolled up as though she has forgotten she has it with her. More pupils seem to be milling about now, for there are only ten minutes to go before the bell that will signal the start of the school day. As Mrs. Swinson finally disappears from view, Tommy recognizes Simon Longbottom loping towards them with a huge grin on his face, but Ben speaks before his new friend can say anything.
“I’m talking to my brother. I’ll see you inside.”
Simon Longbottom looks thrown, so Ben repeats himself.
“I’ll see you inside. I won’t be long.”
They both watch as Simon Longbottom uses his forefinger to push the wire frames of his rain-spattered glasses a little farther up his nose. Then Ben’s new best friend reluctantly moves off, all the while casting disconcerted glances over his shoulder. Ben turns to face his brother.
“Is Mam coming this Saturday?”
“I think so.” Tommy coughs and then offers further clarification. “She said she was if she can get time off from the library. But I suppose it all depends on her nerves.”
“I know.” His brother pauses. “I’ll see you at dinnertime. And tonight I’ll meet you over by the gates.” Ben quickly gestures with his head. “Four o’clock sharp.”
Tommy hears the bell for registration. However, he waits until the last boy has dashed out of the toilets and in the direction of his classroom. He bends over and puts his mouth to the tap and starts to drink the icy water, and when he’s finished, he draws the arm of his blazer across his mouth. Alone in the toilets, the only noise he can hear is the sound of a broken lavatory constantly flushing and the squeak of his rubber-soled shoes as he moves anxiously from one foot to the next. Today is his second day at this school, but he’s hopeful that it will be better than the first. And it could be that this Mr. Hedges is alright. Not as bad as he thought.