Tom, Tom, get upEmilys wailing again! I heard little Sam tugging at my Tshirt sleeve, but my eyes wouldnt open. I was so exhausted I could have shouted at my brother, then burrowed my head under the pillow and slipped back into a warm darkness. Better still if there were no dreams at all, because last night the same old nightmare visited me: Father sitting on the porch of Granddads house, patting my head and asking, How are you, lad? Heavyhearted? Sorry about everything I didnt mean it Emilys crying again you?
I snapped out of the halfsleep and almost toppled off the bed. Emilys shriek was so loud shed woken even me. Sam was sitting on his own mattress, watching my older brother wrestle his way out of the blankets.
Been yelling long? I smoothed my unshaven hair and went over to Emilys cot. Youve got a voice of an opera singer! Why scream like that? Mum isnt home yet. Shell be back in the morning. Come here!
Emilys cheeks were already flushed from the crying. I lifted her out of the cot, gave Sam a nod, and he rushed over with a fresh nappy, pressing the baby against his chest.
Ah, you little stinker, thats rightraise your voice, but maybe a touch softer, yeah? Not all the neighbours have heard yet. Ill sort it out, just a sec.
The familiar tone of my voice quieted her a little, and after a few minutes she was happily sucking from the bottle Id prepared.
Glutton! I kissed her forehead, the usual gesture that said Id checked her temperature without even needing the thermometer. Couldnt wait for Mum? Smart moveshell be tired when she gets home, and weve got to keep you fed. Have another sip and well both try to catch some more sleep while we can. Sam! I glanced at my brother, grinned. Good lad, already dozing. Not like us, eh, Emily?
Halfyearold Emily gurgled once more and let go of her dummy. I cradled her on my shoulder, careful not to start another chorus, and paced the room, rubbing her back.
Nice work, buddy. Now into the bed you go. I gently laid her down and checked the clock.
Should I stay in bed? I still had an hour before the school bell, but Id got a five in biology and a two in physics. I was to blameI should have been listening to the physics lecture instead of playing battleship with Victor during class. Foolish, indeed. Id need to brush up on those paragraphs before the next parentteacher meeting; I didnt want Mum to turn as red as a beet over my marks. Shed already scolded me yesterday, and Id had enough of that.
Tom! Mums voice cut through the room. Thats unacceptable! Youre always late! One more slip and Ill see the headteacher!
As much as Id like to explain that my tardiness isnt a matter of choice but the result of Mum being held up at work, she never seems to hear it. So I stay with Emily while dashing off to get Sam to nursery. You cant just leave the kids alone at homeMum would have a fit. If Dad were still around there wouldnt be any of this. Mum would be at home like us, and we wouldnt have to scramble for rent after Grandma shut us out of the old house.
Grandmas drama was a nightmare I tried not to think about. I didnt know the exact trigger for the fights with Mum, but I guessed it was her sharp tongue and constant shouting. After the funeral shed marched in, waiting for Mum to usher the kids out, then launched at her with a tirade: Its your fault! You bred a whole litter like a rabbit, and now what? You have to work yourself to the bone! Whos to blame? My sons gone, and its all on you! I couldnt take it any longer and stormed out, ignoring Mums tears as she tried to stop me, and confronted Grandma.
Dont speak like that! You dont know anything! Dont insult Mum! Dad loved us! He loved Emily and Sam too. It was Mum who tried to dissuade himshe said there was no help, only blame and shouting! You cant raise children in such an atmosphere! Youre always angry! Why do you keep coming here? Weve moved on! I shouted.
She stared at me with that heavy gaze, opening and closing her mouth, then finally said, Youre still too young to raise your voice at me I replied, No ones left to stand up for Mum now, and I wont let anyone hurt her, understand? She looked over my head at Mum, a strange, almost sad look, then shook her head and left, promising never to return. I sometimes spot her in town, but I feign ignorance. She never calls out to me; I avoid any conversation, fearing shed show up when Im not home and add more strain to Mums already frail nerves. She couldnt even feed Emily after Dad passedmilk vanished with him. If the crying never stops, things will get worse. I know all too well what happens when a family is left to flounder.
It reminded me of the case of Polly from flat 43. Her mother was a heavy drinker, neighbours complained, social services intervened, and Polly ended up in a childrens home. I once snuck in with the lads through a weak fence, waited in the bushes until the group went out for a walk, and watched Pollys tears. I gave her the sweets that Mum had bought for Sam and me, but Mum just patted my head and said she was proud of her son pride felt hollow when I couldnt actually help Polly.
Mum doesnt drink, of course, but you never know what excuses people conjure. Aunt Ruth, our nextdoor neighbour, complained again about Emilys loud cries. What can I do? Shes still a babyher tummy hurts, her teeth are coming in. The doctor said she already has three teeth. She even managed to bite my finger, a little bleed, but strong teeth mean shell be fine. She now chews anything she finds. Yesterday she fell asleep clutching Sams rabbit toy, its long ears dangling. Sam first got angry but then gave up, deciding the rabbit was more important for Emily.
The alarm beeped softly, and I fumbled to turn it off. Time to get ready. I had school, Sam had nursery. Mum would be in a minute, and I still had to fix breakfast for everyone.
I was finishing the toast when the front door clicked and Mum slipped in, shedding her old coat. She wrapped her arms around my cheek, looking straight into my eyes.
Morning, my champion! she cooed.
Morning, my queen! I replied, our secret greeting since Id discovered a Walter Scott novel on the dusty shelf.
Hows it going? she asked.
Emily screamed again last night. Gave her the bottle and a dab of teething gel. She settled. I said.
New tooth coming? she inquired.
Not yet, but her gums are swollen. No fever. I replied.
Good. Tom, what would I do without you? she sighed.
Mum I saw Grandma again yesterday. I mentioned.
Zoe, Mums name, froze, fingers digging into the hem of her cardigan.
Did she say anything? Did you two talk? she asked.
No. She was standing by our block, looking at the windows. When I approached, she turned and walked away. I explained.
Zoe nodded, lost in thought, then realized I couldnt see her face. She lifted my chin, meeting my gaze.
Dont be angry with her, okay? Shes difficult, but shes still your grandmother. Even if she doesnt love us, were still her grandchildrenme, Sam, and Emily. She sighed. Why does she complain were too many?
My love people think they know how you should live because theyre older. she said, sitting down. They think age gives them the right to dictate everything. Maybe theres some truth, but we need to learn our own way, make our own mistakes.
Its nonsense how everything works out for them! I grumbled.
Exactly! she laughed. Time fliesjust yesterday you were Sams size, now youre in Year 7. Youre getting older, but you already understand a lot.
She brushed my cheek and said, If you see Grandma again, dont argue. If she wants to talk, listen, then decide what to do. And forget everything you heard that day When grief hits, people change, they say terrible things they later regret. Its not because theyre eviljust pain speaking.
I didnt fully get it, but I knew she meant well. I glanced at the clock and jumped up.
Blast! Mrs. Whitton will eat me for being late! Ive already missed my first lesson! I shouted.
Off to the second then! Zoe grabbed my shirt and sat me down. You havent even had breakfast!
No time, Mum! I replied.
Itll be fine. School wont run off without you. Look at that weight youve put onscary! she teased, pushing a plate of toast toward me before heading to the kitchen to wake Sam.
Half an hour later I was sprinting to school, handinhand with Sam, who was hopping like a rabbit.
Tom, Tom, will you play with me this evening? Sam asked.
Sure.
Teach me to draw a motorbike?
Will do.
And a car?
Of course.
Sam! Ill teach you anything, but shut your mouthit’s freezing outside, keep moving, alright?
Okay! he chirped. The thought of having Sam for the whole evening thrilled him, and I kept quiet, glancing at my serious brother now.
Tom, Tom, are you angry? Sam asked.
I snapped out of my thoughts. No. Why?
Youre quiet, eyes like black marbles. he said.
Just thinking. Run along, dont dawdle. I wont tell Mum. Ill sort it out myself. I brushed him off.
Will you put me in the corner? he asked innocently.
No, I wont teach you how to draw a car! I joked.
No, dont! Sam whined. Ill behave if Natty doesnt pour water on my bed again. Then we can draw the car tomorrow, okay?
Dont bully girls, I warned.
Natty isnt a girl! Shes a troublemaker! Sam replied.
Still no. We never know what Emily will become. She could grow up to be a bully and the other lads might pick on her. Then what?
Fight? Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
Who? I was puzzled.
Not Emily the lads! he blurted.
Aha! Thats an option, but better to avoid fists. Dad used to say only strange folk start fights right away. Normal people think first. I tugged his sweater over his shirt and nudged him toward the school gates.
Go! Ill see you tonight! I called.
Why not Mum? Sam asked.
Mums heading to work early. The holidays are near and the shop needs stocking. He nodded, knowing Mum worked as a senior assistant in a large, roundtheclock supermarket. Wed visited the store together once; Sam got scared of getting lost, so he clung to my hand. Emily wasnt born yet, Mum was just waiting, and Dad was still alive The thought of Dad made Sams nose twitch, and he turned his head, hunting for Natty. He didnt want to be teased for crying, so he kept quiet.
Mrs. Whitton kept her promise; the next day Id have to see the headteacher. I trudged into his office, his stern gaze scanning my file as he listed every achievementreal or imagined. He finished, then asked Mrs. Parker, the deputy, to step out for a private chat.
Tea? he offered.
The request was so odd I stared at him, then nodded. He clicked an electric kettle, pulled a box of Birds Milk sweets from a drawer, and asked, Do you like those?
I nodded, too baffled to say otherwise.
Late because you dont want to, right? he probed.
I mumbled, No.
Helping Mum? he asked.
I nodded again.
Hes still little, and its hard for her. Youre practically an adult now. He smiled, Tom, youre practically a man. That makes me proud. I wont scold you for being late today, but please try to be on time. And dont worry about Mrs. WhittonIll talk to her. Youll be fine. I swallowed a candy, remembering Dads advice: if you dont know what to say, stay quiet and look clever.
He placed a cup of tea before me. Hungry?
No, we had breakfast. I answered automatically, then realized Mum had fed us before leaving, complaining I was too skinny.
Thats normal for your age. Youre full of energy! I could use some of that. He chuckled, Tom, youre a live wire.
After the meeting, a few classmates lingered, bombarding me with questions. I brushed them off, saying, Mum scolded me for being late. I dont want her upset. The crowd dispersed, and I settled on a windowsill with my physics textbook, still unfinished. I rubbed my ears, feeling a familiar buzz, and managed to pull a decent grade on the last test. My physics teacher even said, Tom, dont worryyou’ve been studying.
Back home I helped Mum tidy up, and after a brief cuddle with Emily, I settled down for homework. Sam would be back later, demanding drawings of motorbikes and cars. The weather was grim, so Id rather stay in than join the lads on the hill. With the festive season looming, Mums shop was a whirlwind of activity. Her friend Aunt Annie had landed her the job, and the pay was goodhard to find such a stable position these days. Mum was lucky the role opened just as she needed it, especially with Emily still a baby.
Mum tucked Emily in and rushed off to work. Sam, content, doodled in his sketchbook, while I finished biology and moved on to algebra. Suddenly a strange smell hit the kitchen. The stove was off, yet the odour grew stronger. Something was wrong. I bolted to the hallway, then changed my mind.
Sam, get dressedquick! I shouted.
I threw on warm trousers, a jacket, and helped Sam into his boots. I grabbed Mums stack of papersshe always said the documents were the most important thing to keep safeand Emilys cosy onesie.
I yanked Emily out of her cot, still halfasleep, and commanded, Out, fast!
Sam, confused, started toward the door, but I stopped him. Hold onto my pocket, understand? Grip tight or youll get lost! The buildings entrance doors were already slamming shut, neighbors shouting in alarm.
I raced down the stairs, pulling Emilys hat over her head. She woke with a scream that rivalled a siren. If anyone doubted something was amiss, theyd now be sure.
Outside, I led the little ones away from the block and sat on a bench near the playground. The source of the smell became cleara fire had broken out in the flat opposite, belonging to Pollys mother. Emily stared in amazement at the fire engine that roared into the courtyard, its siren blaring far too late. Sam clung to me, trembling, and I tried to soothe him.
Dont worry, well be fine. Mum will be back soon. I just left my phone upstairs, cant fetch it now, so well just wait.
Zoe burst onto the scene, shoes in hand, coat flapping, shouting my name. Her cry cut through the chaos; even the firefighters paused.
Tom! she yelled.
All eyes turned to her, the crowd falling silent. A thin lad appeared on the bench, cradling a baby, and the fire chief signalled that the children were safe, allowing the crew to continue their work.
Zoe knelt in the snow, half laughing, half sobbing, planting kisses on Emily and the boys. I tried to calm my mother, but soon I was hugging her tightly, both of us shaking.
I finally spotted Grandma, only when Mum calmed a bit.
Mum I whispered.
Whats wrong, love? she asked, wrapping a stray child in a neighbours coat, then finally seeing where I pointed.
Her motherinlaw, a stern woman named Eleanor, stood a few steps away, barefoot, shivering. She looked at Zoe, then at the scene, her eyes softening.
As the flames were finally licked out, Zoe embraced me, whispering that no matter the wreckage, family would always be our safe harbour.
