C'est la vie
Written by Caleb Wilson
Part 4
Revelation
The rest of the week went quite well for Timothy. Brian Hunter had returned to school, but had not troubled him in any way whatsoever. Maybe the rumour that was going around the school, that Mr Beardsley was going to take over the post of Assistant Head after the mid term holiday, might have had something to do with it. Old Mr Sinclair who was supposed to be resigning the post was a soft touch and the boys knew it. So when they went in front of him to be disciplined, unless it was the most serious of offences, they invariably got off with a warning or detention. Now if Mr Beardsley were to take over, that would be a whole different ball game and the regular trouble makers would not want to come up in front of him to be disciplined.
Kai still tended to ignore Timothy since he had admitted his preference for boys rather than girls, but at times Timothy on the other hand was sure that when he took a quick look in Kai's direction during classes he seemed to be averting his eyes and making out he was looking at Samantha Clayton, who sat in the desk behind him. He could have been wrong because Kai and Samantha always sat together at meal times and were never very far apart during the breaks. So maybe he was looking at her and not him, and he was just imagining it in the hope that they could be friendly again.
He was walking home after school thinking that this could be his last walk as today, according to his mother, his bus pass should arrive in the post. Tomorrow morning being the last day before the school closed for the mid term break he could go to school on the bus. As he walked homeward, his thoughts, as they had on numerous other occasions, wondered why his parents weren't as nice to him as they were to his brother when he was living at home, and sister. He did everything they asked of him and never once answered back to question their demands. He could sense the animosity his mother showed towards him, whereas his father's attitude was one of total indifference. His parents never showed much interest in his every day school progress and never indulged him in any social conversation or even asked him to participate in any of the activities of the home. If it weren't for his younger sister he would be like a stranger in the house. She made life at home that much more bearable. At times he was sure his presence was resented, mostly by his mother with his father usually ignoring him unless he was called on to administer some form of punishment that his mother decided he deserved.
He arrived home still thinking about the attitude of his parents towards him and the moment he walked in the front door he had a taste of his mother's harsh tongue as his ears were assaulted by her yelling
"Why the bloody hell have you taken so long to get home?" Before he could answer his back pack was pulled of his shoulders by his mother and a £5 note was thrust into his hand. "Go and get a sliced loaf and a litre of milk and don't be long," and he was pushed out of the still open door and on his way to the corner shop about 400m away. He walked as fast as his legs could carry him without breaking into a run and within a few minutes was at the door to the shop. Before he could open the door it flew open and Kai was standing in front of him. He quickly stood to one side keeping his eyes riveted to the ground to let him pass. He didn't hear any footsteps pass him. So he looked up to see Kai holding the door open for him. He quickly stepped forward and into the shop saying "Thanks," and keeping his eyes looking at anywhere except at the boy who had held the door open. He heard the door close behind him and made his way towards where the bread was located and then picked up the milk. He went over to the counter and paid for the items, collected the change and made his way toward the exit. He hesitated before opening the door, but when he did so and looked around there was no Kai to be seen. As he got out into the street and started to make his way home he had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. He stopped and looked around, but could see no one. The feelings were still there, but he didn't feel threatened by them.
Kai Webster saw Timothy exit the shop and then watched as the boy stopped to look around before continuing on his way. He had wanted to speak to the boy when he had held the door open for him, but for some unknown reason had faltered at the last minute and held his tongue. Now the opportunity had passed while he watched from his hiding place as the diminutive 15 year old boy made his way home. When Timothy was out of sight he emerged from where he had been hiding and somewhat dejectedly made his way back to his house. On reaching his destination he made his way to the kitchen and gave his mother the bottle of oil and a packet of flour that he'd purchased for her. Noting the change in her son's demeanour she asked
"What's the matter, Kai?" At once he tried to lose his glum appearance by putting on a false smile, saying
"Nothing, Mum, just thinking," which didn't fool her in the slightest, but she let it pass nevertheless.
He excused himself from his mother's presence and made his way out to the garden shed where his father was as usual having one of his cigarette breaks. He knocked on the door at the same time saying
"It's me, Dad," so that his father wouldn't stub his cigarette out unnecessarily and start fanning the room to disperse the smoke and spray that awful room freshener all around.
"Come in, boyo," he heard his father respond in his overly jovial voice. "The door's open." He walked into the shed flapping his hand around to dispel the smoke and standing in front of his father who was seated in an armchair that had seen better days asked
"Dad, can I talk to you for a bit?" Noticing the troubled look on his son's face, Frank Webster dropped his jovial voice and took on a more understanding fatherly tone of voice saying
"By all means, Kai. What's on your mind?"
"Last Saturday, Dad," Kai began his narration "while you were in the shed having a smoke, I brought a boy home who goes to the same school as me. Actually it was the same boy, Timothy Clarkson, over whom I got into a bit of trouble that I told you and Mum about."
"Yes, I remember."
"Well, to cut a long story short, he told me that he preferred boys to girls and if I was uncomfortable with what he'd said he would leave. As I didn't respond to his statement he got up and said he was leaving. I didn't try to stop him and to be truthful I was a bit upset about it. Mum questioned me about it at first wanting to know why Timothy had left after we'd invited him to stay for dinner. I told her that he'd had to go home, that his parents hadn't given him permission to stay. Mum noticed that I was sort of uncomfortable with what I had just told her, so then I told her the truth saying he was a queer. She didn't like my attitude and my remark about Timothy's sexual preferences."
"Have you apologised to Timothy yet?"
"Not yet, Dad, but I intend to."
"I'm glad to hear it, Kai. At least you have recognised and admitted your mistake and can do something about it."
"It's not only that, Dad. It's something else."
"Okay, son, spit it out. I'm not going to bite."
"Umm well, Dad, when I went to visit Timothy, when his mother let me into their house, the passageway and stairs had carpets that you could just about sink up to your ankles in. As I passed their sitting room the door was open and I could see the same lush carpets in there and white leather armchairs and a settee."
"Well, it's good to know that they can afford to furnish their house so well."
"Yes, but Dad, when I went up to Timothy's room and he asked me in I couldn't believe it. It was like walking into a prison cell. All he had was brown lino on the floor, a tatty little bedside mat, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers with a mirror resting on it and leaning against the wall. The only other thing he had was a shelf opposite his bed with his books on it, nothing else, no TV, no PC, not even a CD player. He isn't given any money when he goes to school. He brings his sandwiches and drink and walks there and back every day. Don't you think that's kind of cruel, Dad? He's treated like, like, uh I dunno what, and yet they have all that luxury."
"Humph, umm," and Frank Webster held his chin with index finger and thumb while he thought. "I'll tell you what, Kai. I'll make a visit to their house tomorrow after school making the injury that Timothy got at school the excuse to see him. I'll ask to talk to Timothy and if I can, will get him to take me to his room. I can then judge for myself how bad it really is. Now just remember not a word of this to Timothy."
"Okay, Dad. I'll leave you to your ciggy now," and Kai made his way to the door, stopped and turned to his father. "You do know that Mum knows that you come in here for a smoke when you've supposed to have given it up?"
"Yes, I kinda guessed that she knew, but I have cut down from twenty-five a day to about six. So I'm getting there slowly."
"You sure it's only six?" Kai said opening the shed door ready to depart. "You seem to spend an awful long time in here every day."
"Well, maybe seven," his father responded.
"Bye, Dad," Kai Webster said, smiling as he stepped outside of the shed and made his way into the house.
Friday morning and Timothy Clarkson with his new bus pass left the house ten minutes later than he normally did. He was a bit apprehensive about taking the bus, not knowing how the other kids would react to him, but he'd faced a similar situation when he first attended this school and had got over it. So getting on a bus should be a lot easier. There were a couple of other younger kids at the bus stop whom he didn't know and who gave him a 'Who the hell is this guy? Never seen him before,' look when he also stood at the stop to wait for the bus. The moment he made his way inside the bus after showing his pass it seemed like every eye was turned on him. No one spoke or even greeted him and as the bus took off he stumbled and grabbed hold of the hand rail thinking 'I should have stuck to walking'. Regaining his balance he made his way to the rear of the bus where he could see empty seats. Then his heart leapt as the boy sitting by the window turned and looked at him. It was Kai. He took his seat keeping his eyes focused downwards, making sure not to meet anyone else's gaze. He was trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, which was nigh on impossible with the confined space within the bus. The moment he sat down his body brushed against that of Kai's and he nearly jumped out of his skin as a voice he recognised said hi. He quickly turned his face to look at the source of the greeting to see a smiling Kai. His nervousness left him and he responded with a hi of his own and then continued
"I thought your mum drove you to school."
"She does when it's raining, as the bus stop is quite a distance from our house. So how do you like it on the bus instead of walking?"
"With all the looks I'm getting I think I'd have preferred walking."
"Don't worry about it. You're just a new face on the bus. They'll soon get used to you and then you'll be totally ignored. Umm..." and Kai hesitated for a bit before saying "Can we get together at the morning break, Timothy? I need to talk to you in private."
"Yeah sure," Timothy responded with a puzzled look on his face.
As they alighted from the bus Timothy thought that they would enter the school together, but the moment Kai's feet hit the ground he was looking in the direction of where Samantha Clayton was saying goodbye to her mother. He watched as Kai ran over to them talking first to Samantha's mother and then he accompanird Samantha into the school. Timothy made his solitary way into the school and was surprised that there were none of the regular insults hurled at him or any bodily contact.
At morning break he went to the section of the school grounds that he normally inhabited. While he sipped his drink, he kept his eyes open for Kai. A couple of minutes later he saw him across the other side of the grounds making his way towards where he stood when at the same time from around the corner Fletcher and Blake came heading towards where he stood.
"So, dip shit," Blake said, "you happy that you got us suspended?"
"I didn't get you suspended. I wasn't even in school at the time."
"Yeah, maybe so, but if you hadn't screamed like a little girl, nothing would have happened and for that you're going to pay right now."
He grabbed the smaller boy by his arm and began to twist when all of a sudden Timothy's hand was free as Blake was yanked backwards by Kai who'd grabbed his coat by the collar and pulled.
"Now piss off, Blake, and you too, Fletcher, before I put my boot up your arses."
Sneering "You haven't heard the last of this, Webster," Blake said "We'll fucking have you."
"Oooh, I'm shaking in my boots, Blake. Now just say one more word and see what I'll do to you even with your shitty little friend Fletcher there to help you."
Blake, without a word, turned on his heels and followed by Fletcher headed away from them.
"Thanks, Kai,"
"It's okay. Don't worry about it. Look what I really wanted to talk about was the way I acted when you were at my house and you told me about yourself. I shouldn't have let you go home like that. I'd invited you to stay for dinner and more or less threw you out."
"You didn't throw me out, Kai. I left."
"Yes, I know, but that was due to my stupid reaction to what you told me. I'm really sorry for that and if you want during the half term break, you could come over again."
"I would like to Kai, but I'm going to Manchester on Sunday morning for the week."
"Oh, okay, Timmy, but we can hang out on Saturday if you want. I'll come around and see you."
"Yeah, that would be great," Timothy said as they walked back to their classes.
After school he met up with Kai and together they made their way home. As he got ready to get off the bus, Timothy asked
"What time will you be around tomorrow?'
"About 11o'clock. We'll head over to the mall again."
"Okay, Kai, see you tomorrow."
A bit behind them Peter Blake's brain was working overtime making plans for Saturday morning.
When he arrived home he greeted his mother, then asked her if there were any errands to run before he went upstairs to change. She didn't acknowledge him in anyway, just waved her hand in a dismissive manner. He turned and left the sitting room followed by his sister whom he lifted into his arms and carried upstairs. Inside he placed her on his bed while he got his clothes. Then telling her to stay put, he went into the bathroom to change. He returned shortly dressed in his tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, put his school uniform away, then turning to his sister asked "Okay, Lindy, what do you want to play?"
"I think I want to play Hide and Seek."
"Okay, but you've got to remember to keep quiet, otherwise I'll find you too easily."
"All right. I'll hide first. You count up to fifty."
He started his count and he heard his sister excitedly dash out of the bedroom and head along the passageway to her bedroom closing the door after she'd entered. He knew he wouldn't have to look too hard. She always got excited when he came close to where she was hiding and started a nervous sort of giggle. He gave her time to settle into her hiding place and pretended to look in all the other rooms keeping a loud running commentary on wondering where his sister could be hiding. Eventually he opened the door to her room saying in a loud voice
"I wonder if she's in here," and before he could take another step into the room he heard her giggle coming from under the bed. He pretended not to hear it and looked in all the places except under the bed, then lay down on the bed saying in as loud a voice as he could "Now where could she could be hiding? I've looked just about everywhere. I think I'll phone the police and ask them if they know where Linda could be hiding." More giggles from under the bed and then she popped out from underneath yelling
"Here I am."
"Oh gosh," he said grabbing his sister and lifting her up as she screamed with laughter. "I never thought of looking under the bed. That was very clever."
"Timothy, what's all that noise going on up there?" he heard his mother calling.
"I was just playing with Linda."
"Well make less noise and play down here if you have to." He kissed his sister on the forehead, then putting his finger on his lips indicating to her to keep quiet carried her downstairs to the sitting room.
At about 4.30pm as his mother switched on the telly she told him to go and tidy his room and without argument he made his way to do as he was told. There was nothing much to do as he always kept his room neat. So he got his book out, lay on his bed and started reading. He knew that he could stay in his room without disturbance till his father returned from work and then he could go down for his evening meal.
Half an hour later the front door bell chimed and Mrs Clarkson went and answered it. Opening the door she saw a rather tall well built man clad in a charcoal grey suit.
"Yes, what can I do for you?"
"Good afternoon, madam. I'm Councillor Frank Webster," he said showing his credentials. "Is this the residence of Timothy Clarkson?"
"Yes, what did you want of him?"
"It's nothing to worry about. I just want to talk to him and ask him a few questions about school and how he's coping since the assault."
"Come in, Councillor. I'm Mrs Clarkson," and she stepped to one side to allow Mr Webster into the house. "He's in his room at the moment. I'll just give him a call."
"No, that's all right, Mrs Clarkson. I don't mind talking to him in his room. Actually, knowing boys I think that's where they'd feel most comfortable when talking to an adult."
"Are you sure you'd want to talk to him in his room?"
"Of course. Would you like to lead the way?"
"Oh, that's all right. If you turn left at the top of the stairs, it's the second door on the right. I have my daughter to attend to."
"All right, Mrs Clarkson. I'll see you after I've spoken to Timothy," and he made his way to the room noticing all the plush furnishings downstairs and the thick wall to wall carpeting.
He knocked on the door and within the space of a few seconds a small boy opened the door and stood in front of him looking questioningly up into his eyes. He was surprised at the smallness of the boy that he knew to be the same age as that of his son, but quickly composed himself and asked
"I presume that you're Timothy?"
"Yes sir, what did you want?"
"I'm Mr Webster. I'm the head of the local council Children's Welfare Department and if you don't mind, can I come in and talk to you?" The boy stepped back into the room inviting Mr Webster in, saying
"If you wish to sit down, you'll have to sit on the bed. I haven't got a chair in the room." The man took a good look around the room before saying
"All right, Timothy, would you like to sit beside me while I talk to you?" When they were seated Mr Webster said "I want to ask if you've had any further problems at school, like boys being abusive or threatening you in any way."
"No, Mr Webster. Actually things have improved quite a bit. I still get some remarks, but nothing like it used to be."
"Oh, that's good to hear, Timothy. I hope you don't mind me asking, but your room seems to me to be very sparsely furnished compared to the rest of the house."
"Yes, that's because my parents don't have enough money to do my room yet. They decided to do all the rooms downstairs first as we do have visitors and they wanted them to be comfortable when they visited."
"But don't you think that they could do a bit more to your room?"
"No, Mr Webster. Dad works really hard and he does the best he can. They'll do my room when they have the money."
"Okay, Timothy, I'll leave you now. I'll stop and see your mum on the way out."
"Bye, Mr Webster, and thank you for looking out for me. Oh, and say hi to Kai for me."
"I certainly will. Bye, Timothy."
Mr Webster made his way downstairs. He paused at the entrance to the sitting room and tapped softly on the door at the same time poking his head around the open door.
"Oh, do come in, Mr Webster," Mary Clarkson called out. He entered and looked around the lavishly furnished room, then turning to his host said
"I've spoken to Timothy and apparently everything at school is going well. He says since his return to school he's had less name calling and no threats of violence to date." Mrs Clarkson was on the point of responding when they heard the front door close and shortly a man well over 6ft in height and broad of shoulder walked into the room.
"Mr Webster, this is my husband Jack Clarkson." Frank Webster held out his hand saying
"Please to meet you," as Jack Clarkson took the proffered hand and shook it. "I have just finished talking to Timothy and was telling your wife that he says school life has improved considerably since the assault."
"We're glad to hear that," Mrs Clarkson said. "It's good to hear that school is more enjoyable for him now."
"There's just one other point I'd like to raise," the councillor said.
"What is it?" they both asked anxiously.
"Well, I see your room here is very well furnished and the carpets in here and in the rest of the house are to say the least very plush."
"I'm glad you think so," the wife said with a pleased look on her face. He happened to glance across to the sitting room door and was sure he had seen some movement, but could see no one there now.
"Yes, but in total contrast to Timothy's room," Frank Webster said frowning. "His room is so sparsely furnished it beggars belief." He saw Mrs Clarkson's face cloud over and then her voice burst out
"He's got a roof above his head, clothes on his back and food in his stomach. What else does he need?" The councillor was astonished at the outburst. He looked across at the husband who was looking embarrassed and wouldn't meet his gaze. Addressing the woman
"Mrs Clarkson," he said, "I've heard of parents like you and at times could hardly believe that they would treat their children in such a manner. Now I come face to face with just such people. How could you treat your own son in such a disrespectful way?" Mrs Clarkson's face was livid and she seemed like she was about to burst a blood vessel.
"Quite easily, you pompous fool," she said with raised voice. "He's not our fucking son." Frank Webster heard a cry from the doorway and glancing in that direction saw Timothy with a shocked expression on his face as the boy turned and ran from the room.
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