Nowhere to Go (11 page)

‘I know what’s happened,’ Tyler barked, looking worryingly like he might soon reprise his raging bull persona. ‘I know exactly what’s happened. It’s John and Will going round, isn’t it? She’ll have gone mad, wouldn’t she? Started lying about me again, like she always does – and she’ll have done it. She’ll have told him loads of bad shit about me and told him I gotta fuck off out their lives. That’s what’s happened!’

‘Oh, love,’ I began.

‘Yeah, an’ that’s fine by me,’ he spat. ‘Cos you know what? I never, not
ever
, thought Grant would believe it. He’s even seen some of the shitty things she’s done to me – he knows!’ He paused to inhale again, two pink spots flaming on his cheeks now. ‘So I never gave it him. I told him I’d like to stick his party invitation where the sun doesn’t shine. I gave it to Danny Ellis in year 9 instead – and I wasn’t even planning on inviting him, cos he’s only Cam’s friend really, but I was that mad I did! Honest, Casey – I really was. I was that
mad
!’

I nodded my understanding, but didn’t go to put my arms around him. He was angry rather than tearful and I felt he’d probably shake me off, and a part of me felt glad that Grant had roused his anger rather than made him cry – in some way, it made the rejection feel less like a rejection – as the power (the power of the pool party invite, now withdrawn) had been firmly in Tyler’s hands. I was also gladdened by the level of his emotional intelligence. Despite his fury, he had understood that Grant’s treatment of him had a very defined root, in the shape of Alicia and the seeds she’d planted in her brother’s mind. All of which was good, and would help him on the journey he had to make. But, damn them, it was rejection, all the same.

‘Oh, sweetie,’ I said, ‘that’s not very nice, is it? But, hey, you have your friends coming and you’ll have a great party, and it’s his loss. But you know,’ I said, risking placing a hand on his shoulder, ‘your Grant’s like piggy in the middle a bit here, isn’t he? I’ll bet your parents – I mean, Alicia and your dad – have been giving him a bit of a hard time, and he’s stuck not knowing which way to turn. He’s bound to feel he has to be loyal to them, but he also wants to be a good brother … it can’t be easy for him, all this, can it?’

‘They’re
not
my parents.’

‘I know … I’m sorry, love.’

‘She never was anyway and he’s not no more, either. I’m not bothered no more anyway. Forget ’em. Forget them
all
. And you can tell them – whatever they send round for me on Thursday, I don’t want it, okay? They can stick their birthday presents up their arses!’

And with that decisive comment – grimly echoing what his father had said only a few days previously – Tyler rolled up his shirtsleeves and yanked out a kitchen chair. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’m starving. What’s for tea?’

Tyler cried later, just as I’d known he would. We had our tea, during which all he talked about was the coming party, and then, when Mike came home, he recounted the whole thing again to him. Which was a good sign, I thought, in the midst of such a bleak situation – at least it indicated how close he now felt to us. I was also gratified to watch how intently he listened to Mike when he said much the same as I had about Grant’s difficult situation, and how readily he seemed to take all that on board.

We then watched the usual soaps, and he did his usual flurry of texting – no doubt filling in interested parties about the injustices that had been done to him. And that was fine. I knew he needed to get it off his chest.

It was only when we went to bed ourselves that I became aware of the almost inaudible sound of crying; he was clearly doing his best to try and be sure we didn’t hear.

I went and knocked on his door softly. It was ajar anyway, so I also pushed it open, and he immediately turned towards me, scrubbing at his face.

‘You okay, love?’ I whispered. ‘Shall I come in for a bit? You want a cuddle?’ Without waiting for an answer, I padded across to the bed.

He wriggled up and had his face buried in my chest almost as soon as I sat down, and I held him tight, letting the sobs come, rubbing his back.

‘I know,’ I said softly. ‘I know how much it hurts, love.’

To which his answer was to simply hold me tighter.

We must have sat there like that for a good 20 minutes. He didn’t seem to want to talk, and I didn’t try to make him. Then, finally, he pulled away and sniffed. His eyes were puffy, his ridiculously long lashes clumped together, as he looked at me. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

‘Sweetheart, why on
earth
would you be sorry?’ I whispered back. ‘We all need to cry sometimes. That’s what makes us human. And, listen you, that’s what I’m
here
for.’

He gave me a wan smile and asked me if he could have a drink of water. So I went downstairs and got him one, my heart filling up every bit as much as the glass I was holding.
God
, what I wouldn’t like to say to certain persons, and in no uncertain terms.

I padded back upstairs, into Tyler’s bedroom, and placed the glass on his bedside cabinet. Then tiptoed out again. He was already fast asleep.

In the end, we bought Tyler a new mobile phone. Levi had soon forgotten about his secret mission to find our what Tyler wanted for his birthday, but one thing that had happened during the course of the previous Sunday was that Jackson had come into the kitchen while Kieron and I were washing up asking, ‘Nanna, what’s a shittyshittyphone?’

Which naturally had both me and Kieron stifling giggles, but also planted the seed of an idea in my head. Even if it wasn’t quite as shittyshitty as he obviously deemed it to be – it worked, didn’t it? – it was pretty elderly. It was probably even more prehistoric than mine was, which was saying something – and Kieron agreed that any sane boy of his age who didn’t already have one would want a smartphone more than pretty much anything.

So off I went to the shops, mostly baffled (as I still am) about smartphone technology, but with a name on a piece of paper provided by my son, and the aim of finding Tyler something called a blackberry.

Or, more correctly, ‘BlackBerry’, as was written on the note. And I duly got one. To me, it was simply an expensive phone with tiny keyboard buttons – I could barely even see them, let alone use them – but to all the kids (at that time, anyway) they were life support systems. You could go online, access social media, take and store photos, and even watch movies on them apparently. Which was impressive, if slightly baffling, and I was pleased I’d succumbed, even though it cost way more than we’d intended spending.

I got it home, wrapped it and added it to the little pile – one that already included gifts from Riley and David, Kieron and Lauren and, bless them, my mum and dad, who’d grown very fond of our latest addition to the family.

There was only one notable absence – anything from Tyler’s own family, a circumstance that had been on my mind since he’d made his pithy comment about what they could do with their gifts. Would there even
be
anything for him?

I knew that, subconsciously, it had been that possibility that had been instrumental in my and Mike’s impulsive decision to buy him such an expensive gift. Not that money could buy happiness – any idiot already knew that – any more than could the lavish birthday breakfast I had prepared for him fill the hole in the present pile.

He was thrilled to bits when I told him what we were having, even so. ‘Pancakes, with strawberries, cream
and
syrup for the birthday boy,’ I announced when he came down. ‘Go on, go and sit at the table and open up your presents, then we’ll get stuck into them, okay?’

Tyler looked in wonderment at the pile of gaily wrapped gifts. ‘These are
all
for me? From you?’ he asked, looking genuinely staggered by this news.

‘Not all from me and Mike – there’s gifts from all the family,’ I told him. ‘Go on, get stuck into them. It might be your birthday but you still have to be at school on time, love.’

He needed no further prompting, opening the one from my parents first, which was a pair of new football socks and a DVD. ‘Look, Casey,’ he said excitedly, ‘it’s a goals one! That’s epic!’

Equally epic was the present from Kieron and Lauren, which was a book. ‘It’s the Rooney book!’ he said, doing a fist pump. ‘Yesss! And look – it’s even brand new!’

It made me smile to see his joy at being given a brand new book (was that a first?) even though I wasn’t really sure what Rooney had done to elicit such excitement, bar being some footballer or other. But excited Tyler was, eagerly diving in to check out the photos in it.

‘Come on,’ I chivvied. ‘Next one!’

He duly obliged, opening a series of boxes to reveal a crisp 20 pound note – his artfully wrapped gift from Riley and David. ‘Whoah! A full 20, all for me!’ he gasped. He looked at me earnestly then. ‘Casey, I might just treat you and Mike to a meal with this. Take you for a pizza or something and then maybe open a bank account with the rest. Now I’m 12 I
should
have a bank account, shouldn’t I?’

I smiled. ‘That’s very sweet of you, Tyler,’ I said. ‘But no need to buy us a pizza. That money is for you to spend on
you
, love. Or save – and yes, of course we can set you up with a bank account. And then we’ll treat
you
to a pizza to celebrate.’

But by now he wasn’t even listening, as he’d opened the final package – the one I’d put at the bottom of the pile specially.

‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my
God
! A BlackBerry! Oh, Casey, thanks soooooo much! I’ve always wanted one of these! Oh God, this is epic – can I take it to school? Will you and Mike set it up for me? Has it got credit?’

‘No, yes and yes,’ I laughed. ‘Calm down, kiddo! No, you can’t take it to school – you know they’re not allowed, and yes, Mike will do that and yes, we’ve put on some credit. Now. Pancakes. How many d’you think you can eat?’

‘At least four,’ he said with some conviction, as I duly dished them up for him. ‘Oh, this is my best birthday ever!’ He munched happily for a bit on his sticky, gooey mess, then something crossed his face and I knew what might be coming. ‘Did anything come from my dad yet?’ he asked once he’d swallowed his latest mouthful.

‘No, love,’ I said quickly, keeping my tone light. ‘The postman doesn’t get here till you’ve gone to school, does he? Speaking of which, look at the time – chop chop, now! We’ve both got a busy day ahead, what with your party and everything, haven’t we?’

And though his mouth was too full of pancake again for him to answer, the shadow of anxiety on his face had gone away. I just hoped there’d be no cause for it to return.

Arriving almost on cue, just after Tyler had headed off to school, the postman, predictably, had nothing. And I cursed myself for allowing either of us to even hope he might. But a part of me hoped anyway. They were his parents, for God’s sake! Well, his parent and legal guardian, which amounted to the same thing in my book. And how could anyone be so cruel as to punish a kid like that? No, they would surely have something for him – perhaps via John or Will even?

I was clutching at straws and I knew it. And as the little voice in my head kept reminding me, there were lots and lots of parents who’d be cruel enough to punish a kid like that. Who was I kidding?

I called Will. Perhaps he knew something I didn’t, either way, and though I knew he’d spoken to his brother about having the inflatable for the party, he might well have forgotten that today was the actual day. Which, of course, he wouldn’t have, I realised, even as I heard the ring tone. He was coming to the flipping party, wasn’t he?

‘They’ve said nothing to me, Casey,’ he said, also predictably. ‘Sorry. I did nudge them, though. Told them they could have your address if they needed it and everything. D’you want me to give them a call and find out? Can’t hurt.’

Well, it could – they could tell him to take a running jump, couldn’t they? And after the previous week’s débâcle they might well. But this wasn’t about fighting social services – this was about remembering a child’s birthday. And if they’d not got anything perhaps they’d at least be guilted into doing so. Yes, it would be late, but I could make something up about that if need be …

I was still pondering that when the phone rang again, and I crossed my fingers as I picked it up. And it was Will again – the unhappy bearer of bad news.

‘There’s not going to be a present,’ he said flatly. ‘Beyond belief, all this is. It was him – Gareth – and he seemed shocked I was even asking. Not this year, he said. All about learning lessons. Said Tyler had crossed a line and needed to learn “what was what” – to use his parlance. That it wouldn’t be right to reward him with a present after what he did.’

‘
What
?’ the word exploded out of me. ‘But it’s his bloody
birthday
! And how the hell can they expect him to follow that sort of twisted logic? He did wrong. They took him to bloody court for that, for God’s sake. And he’s
been
punished! Jesus! What the hell am I supposed to say to the poor kid?’

‘God knows,’ said Will, ‘but whatever it is, I suggest you count to ten before you say it. I’m so sorry. I tried my best – even offered to drive over and pick up a card at least, but the phrase “didn’t want to know” doesn’t even cover it.’

‘It’s really true, isn’t it?’ I said dejectedly. ‘They really do want him out of their lives, don’t they? This whole thing – this whole going to court thing – has all been part of the plan, hasn’t it? Given it to them on a plate – a reason to get shot of him. God, I feel like swearing, I really do.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘And I don’t know what to say to you. Look, I’ll be seeing you later anyway – you want me to take him to one side, have a chat, you know, once the party’s done?’

‘
I
know what to say,’ I said. ‘To certain people, anyway. Particularly to that Alicia – she’s behind all of this, I know it. But I won’t. I’ll hold my tongue for Tyler’s sake. And thanks, Will – that’s kind of you, but it’s okay. I’ll handle it.’

Not that I had the faintest idea how.

In the end I decided it would be better to let Tyler enjoy his party before dropping the bombshell that his so-called family had so badly let him down. I whizzed him upstairs as soon as he got in from school with instructions to get changed as quickly as he could so that we could be at the leisure centre before any of his friends arrived.

And he didn’t even ask me, which made me feel sure he’d been thinking – that it had been on his mind all that day, same as mine. And that (perhaps as a consequence of seeing Grant? I didn’t know) he’d decided to block it out, let well alone. And, sad as it was, that was another example of his emotional intelligence; he was protecting himself, shutting it out – I’d have put money on it.

It was also a blessing because it let me off the hook – for at least the next couple of hours, I wouldn’t have to break his heart again.

And the party was a roaring success. While Riley and I sat poolside and watched, Tyler and his pals (and Will, bless him) had the best time in the water; even the skinny 15-year-old who’d come alone on the bus and who had so shyly introduced himself as Cameron.

‘Is that the lad he’s always hung out with?’ Riley wanted to know.

I nodded. ‘Another horribly neglected kid, by all accounts.’

‘Hmm …’ Riley said. ‘Either that, or he’s taking something he shouldn’t be, I reckon.’

I nodded grimly. ‘From what Tyler’s mentioned, I think it’s a bit of both, love.’

There was no mention of Grant’s absence by anyone, though, and I was very thankful. It only reared its head at the end when the mums began arriving, and though it might just have been me reading something into nothing I could almost see Tyler’s mind working. Why not me? I could sense him thinking. Why can’t I have a normal family like everyone else?

Why indeed?

There was still the small – huge – matter of his presents to address, and as we headed home, having dropped the enigmatic Cameron at a designated corner on the way, I could feel the weight of having to tell Tyler what I’d been told pressing down on me.

There was a short reprieve, in that Mike had set up the BlackBerry for him, but I knew it was only a matter of minutes before he
would
ask the question – either that or he resolutely wouldn’t ask the question, which would be worse, because then it would just sit there.

‘So nothing came, then,’ he said, as I put his swimming things in the washing machine. It wasn’t a question.

I shook my head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he added quickly. ‘I knew they wouldn’t send nothing. Why would they send me a present after what they said to Grant?’

I tried to keep him positive. It was almost a knee-jerk reaction. ‘I know what you’re saying, love,’ I reassured him. ‘But that doesn’t mean they won’t. I mean, I know things are difficult right now and that your dad might be a bit cross with you, but, but you know, that might change once Alicia calms down about it all, mightn’t it? And then it’ll be like two birthdays, won’t it?’