Colin was in the bad books again. It was nothing new. He was used to it, but he didn’t like it. No matter what he tried, he seemed to make a complete hash of it. And no matter how hard he tried to keep it quiet, it always found its way to his Mother.
Even when it didn’t, she had that damned women’s intuition and then he would face the third degree until he spilled the beans. Oh it wasn’t all bad. He was never grounded like Jimmy Neal down the road who spent every other week confined to his bedroom, or Sam Howell who had all his pocket money taken off him. Or Judy Marshall, who despite her apparent stature and gymnastic ability, seemed to be very clumsy at home.
No. It wasn’t bad at all. Colin’s parents recognised that his mess-ups were not deliberate. There was sympathy in his Mother’s reactions, but never the less, he knew he had to make up for it.
This time he had the perfect solution; Barry Manilow! His friend George Seddon had seen the posters on his way home last week. ‘Barry Manilow Live in St Georges Hall next week.’ Colin knew his Mother loved Barry Manilow. What a perfect way to get back into her good books, although he knew that wouldn’t last for too long.
On Saturday he would be able to go out with his friends. He was always allowed out on a Saturday. He would have money then too, and he would be able to get the tickets then. But he would have to keep it quiet. There would be Jon Moffat to avoid. And if anyone knew, they would surely tell just to save their own skins. If they knew he had money they would take it off him, and no one could be trusted.
It was a hard week leading up to Saturday. The excitement was building and Colin was sure his Mother suspected something. If he didn’t control it better she would be giving him the third degree again and he wouldn’t be able to keep it secret. He knew he had to stay calm, but it was very hard. It was the only thing on his mind! He couldn’t concentrate on anything else, and the more he thought about it, the more excited it made him. Even his Dad had been giving him curious looks and that meant his excitement had been very noticeable.
Saturday was still days away. Colin was sure he wasn’t going to make it, and in his heightened state of excited anxiety, he foolishly told Judy Marshall on their way to school. It seemed the right thing to do at the time. He felt he’d needed to tell someone, and Judy Marshall was a sweet girl. She was very quiet and if anyone could keep his secret, it would be her.
By lunch time he knew how wrong he had been. It seemed everyone knew. Even the dinner ladies said what a sweet idea it was, and that his Mother would be very proud of him, and although that filled Colin with pride and made him feel very warm inside, nothing could prevent the anxiety from building, knowing that so many people knew, and now it would surely get back to his Mum before the weekend.
He didn’t speak to Judy Marshall on the way home that night. In fact the way he felt, he was sure he would never speak to her ever again. She didn’t seem to notice. She barely spoke anyway, but Colin normally made up for that. He usually talked the whole way home.
Saturday eventually came, though it had seemed an even longer week than ever to Colin. He found it difficult not to speak, especially to his friends. He liked to talk, though strangely he thought he hadn’t gotten into as much trouble at school this week. But now he had his money, and he was on his way to meet George Seddon and go get the tickets.
Colin reached the corner of the street where George lived and stopped. George wasn’t there. It wasn’t like him to be late, but Colin had set off early so he decided to wait a while. George had never let him down before.
He hated waiting. He had always been the impatient sort. But now the worse thing happened. He recognised Jon Moffat’s voice on the instant he heard him shout,
“There’s the retard! Get him!” There was the sound of heavy running feet and Colin set off running down the street. He didn’t know which house George Seddon lived in, and he didn’t know where St. George’s Hall was, but he knew he couldn’t wait around. There were far too many bullies in Jon Moffat’s gang for Colin to handle. Even Jon Moffat on his own was too much for Colin.
At the end of the street he turned left, ran across the street and down an alleyway on the other side. He was struggling for breath. Colin wasn’t built for running, but as he reached half way down the alley he could hear the heavy thunder of chasing feet as they turned into the alley.
He sucked in his breath and heard himself whoop as he struggled to keep his feet moving. His lungs hurt but the bullies wouldn’t stop. At the end of the alleyway he stopped and leaned against the wall in desperation, daring a glimpse back he saw they were almost upon him. Staggering forward into the road, still struggling for breath he saw it. Straight in front of him, and right behind Colin and George’s school, St. George’s
‘Friday Night from 7, For One Night Only,
Garry Manilove sings.
Discarded tickets drifted about on the steps outside in the breeze before the solid locked doors as the space in Colin’s head echoed and mocked him once again.
© Copyright Notice
To copy any part of this publication for distribution or resale, without the written permission of Kelli publishing, is an offence under copyright law. Any individual or company in breach of this copyright legislation will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.
No comments:
Post a Comment