See If I Care (10 page)

‘I’m going to be an uncle,’ Luke told Jenny when he went to make his second payment on the washing machine.

Jenny looked up from the receipt she was writing out and beamed. ‘Why that’s wonderful news,’ she said. ‘You must all be delighted.’

‘I’m going to be an uncle,’ Luke told the man in the newsagents when he went to wash the two cars.

The man in the newsagents, whose name was Pat, gave Luke a slap on the back. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘Well done.’ Which sounded a bit strange to Luke, as he hadn’t done anything.

‘I’m going to be an uncle,’ Luke told Mrs Hutchinson at break.

Mrs Hutchinson’s eyes widened. ‘Are you now?’ she said. ‘Helen, is it?’ Mrs Hutchinson had taught Helen in sixth class too.

Luke nodded. ‘She’s going to have a baby in June.’

‘I see,’ said Mrs Hutchinson. She didn’t look happy, like Jenny or Pat the newsagent.

‘I’m going to be an uncle,’ Luke told his uncle Jack, when Jack came to collect him as usual on Saturday morning.

Jack nodded. ‘Your mam rang us,’ he said. ‘That’s a bit of a surprise, isn’t it?’

‘I thought Helen was sick,’ Luke told Jack. ‘I thought she was going to die.’

Jack smiled. ‘You’re a funny one,’ he said. ‘Your mam told us about the washing machine too – that was a nice thing you did.’

Luke wondered if he could tell Jack about the boy who had taken his money. He wondered if he could tell him about seeing the boy in town the other day. Luke wasn’t absolutely certain it was the same boy, but he was wearing a grey hoodie and a black scarf, and he looked about the right height. He was standing on the path with two other boys, and they were all smoking, holding their cigarettes cupped in their hands to keep the wind off them.

But Luke said nothing to Jack. There was no point
in saying anything now. The money was probably all spent anyway, on cigarettes, or beer or something.

‘Helen’s having a baby,’ he said to his father. ‘In June.’

His father looked back at him. ‘Helen,’ he said.

‘She’s having a baby,’ Luke said again. ‘You’re going to be a granddad.’

And then something amazing, and a little frightening, happened. His father’s face seemed to soften around the edges, and a tear trickled from the corner of one eye and rolled down his cheek. ‘Granddad,’ he repeated softly. He lifted his arm and rubbed the sleeve of his jumper across his face.

Luke watched two more tears trickling slowly down his father’s face. ‘It’s OK,’ he said, feeling a bit scared. He’d never seen his father cry, ever. ‘It’s just a baby, don’t be sad.’ He took his father’s hand and held it between his own two. ‘It’s OK, Dad, really.’

His father wiped his face with his jumper sleeve again. Then he smiled shakily at Luke. ‘Baby,’ he whispered.

And Luke understood that he wasn’t crying because he was sad.

Granny was knitting tiny clothes. Every night when she settled in front of the telly she clicked her needles and grew a little yellow jumper, or a pair of
teeny white socks, or a pale green hat that just about covered Luke’s fist.

Anne was making mobiles for the baby. She drew stars and flowers and smiley faces, and cut them out. Then she poked a hole in them with a needle and hung them with thread from coat hangers.

On her day off, Mam took down all the posters in Helen’s bedroom and painted over the shabby wallpaper. When Helen came home from school she walked into a wonderful buttery yellow room, full of light. She flew downstairs and hugged Mam, nearly knocking over the pan full of sausages.

Helen and Mam were friends again. Luke wasn’t sure how it had happened, or when, but there were no more rows, or slamming doors, or phone calls from the pub to check if Helen was at home. And the sad, worried look began to fade slowly from Mam’s face. One morning Luke heard her humming along to the radio in the kitchen.

And Helen was talking to everyone again, not just Mam. Every day she was becoming more and more like the Helen Luke remembered. She even helped him revise for his spelling test last week.

And in the past ten days, Anne hadn’t wet the bed once.

The car washing was going well. Luke had five
regular customers now, as well as Pat the newsagent and his wife. And he still went out to Jack’s farm every Saturday. Even with the fifty euro a month he was paying for the washing machine, he was still managing to save a fair bit.

He was thinking about a cot, when he had enough. He might just make it by June.

His penfriend’s last letter had taken him by surprise. He’d forgotten about suggesting some kind of quiz for her father, hadn’t really thought any more about it after he’d sent off the letter. Imagine that Elma had actually thought his idea was good, and entered her father in a quiz, and now he was through to some finals.

He liked being called Fantastic Super-clever Luke Mitchell. It made him feel like some kind of hero, even if he hadn’t really done anything to deserve it. But it was good that his idea had helped Elma’s dad.

Pity he’d made up all that stuff about his own dad, though. Climbing in the Pyrenees indeed. Luckily, Elma seemed to have forgotten all that stuff about his dad being an astronaut. But now she wanted to know what happened him – served Luke right for saying anything about that.

Should he come clean now, and tell her the whole truth? Would she be shocked at all the stories
he’d made up? Maybe she’d stop writing to him altogether. Mrs Hutchinson said she hoped the class would keep in contact with their penfriends even after they’d left primary school. She said it could be the start of a lifelong friendship. A couple of the girls in the class said they were planning to visit Manchester in the summer and meet up with their penfriends.

Luke stuck on his upside-down stamp and wrote Elma’s name and school address on the envelope. Then he picked out a sunny seaside notelet – blue skies, yellow sand, people splashing in the foamy water – and began his letter.

Everyone was a bit tense on the days leading up to the regional final. There were lots of fights, but then that was nothing new for the Davey family. On the day of the competition, however, everyone was in a great mood. It was a Saturday, so the whole family was able to go to cheer Dad along. Zac even wanted to bring Snowball, managing to forget in all the excitement that he was actually terrified of the huge Alsatian. Luckily, Mum said no, she didn’t think they’d be able to get him past the security guards at the BBC.

Dad spent ages getting ready. He’d had his hair cut the day before, and now he shaved off his straggly beard and moustache. Elma met him on the stairs,
and almost jumped back in fright. All of a sudden it was as if the ghost of the dad she used to know had come crawling back from wherever it had been hiding for the last few years.

When everyone else was ready to go, Dad appeared in the hall. He was wearing a freshly ironed, crispy white shirt, and new jeans. Dylan gasped. ‘Dad, you look great,’ he said. ‘But it’s radio, remember. No one will see you.’

Dad patted his shoulder. ‘Appearances are important, kiddo, never forget that.’

Elma giggled. Dad seemed to have forgotten about that for the past three years, while he was lounging around the house in his shabby old tracksuit. She didn’t say anything, though. There was no way she was going to mess up this special day.

Mum drove them all to the BBC studios. Elma couldn’t remember when the whole family had been in the car together before. When they got there, everyone got special security passes, and went to wait in a big green room. While they were waiting, Elma saw a famous TV chef walking past. She wondered if she should grab him and persuade him to give her mum a few cookery lessons. But while she was wondering, he vanished into a room and the moment had passed.

Four other contestants arrived. They hadn’t brought their families with them, and Elma wondered if Dad felt a bit stupid now. No one said very much. Then Zac nudged Dylan and pointed to a skinny man in the corner, and said in a much-too-loud whisper, ‘He doesn’t look very clever. Dad will easily beat him.’

Everyone laughed nervously, and then sat in uneasy silence until the contestants were called. Dad looked very scared as he followed the others out of the room. Elma gave him a thumbs-up sign, and a smile she didn’t feel like. For the first time, she began to wonder if her plan was such a good one. What if Dad made a complete fool of himself? What would happen then? And she’d boasted about this at school, so everyone would be listening. How would she face school on Monday if Dad came last? Evil Josh would have one more thing to tease her about, and surely Tara would finally give up on her as a total loser.

The quiz was going to be broadcast live. There was a speaker in the corner of the room, so the family could listen. There was lots of music, and boring talk, and then the presenter said, ‘And now it’s time for the Manchester regional final of this year’s Great Geography Quiz.’

Everyone sat up straight and giggled excitedly as
the contestants introduced themselves.

‘That’s Dad,’ said Zac when he heard his father’s voice, like no one else had noticed.

Next the presenter explained the rules. It was all buzzer questions. If you buzzed and got the answer right, you got two points, but if you got it wrong, two points would be deducted from your score. There was a huge drum-roll, and then the quiz began.

Mum grabbed Elma’s hand and squeezed it tight. Zac and Dylan sat with tense, serious faces. The first round was over very quickly, and Dad hadn’t buzzed once. Zac started to cry. ‘Is it over? Dad didn’t say anything.’

Elma spoke as brightly as she could. ‘It’s OK, Zaccy. Dad’s just warming up. There’s four more rounds.’

Round two started, and the family waited in vain to hear Dad’s voice. Finally, halfway through the round, he buzzed for the question, ‘In which country is Lake Volta?’

His voice was hoarse, and he sounded like he was miles away, even though Elma knew he was only just along the corridor. ‘It’s em, er … it’s … I mean … it’s … is it in Zambia?’

There was the dull thud of a gong, indicating a wrong answer. Elma looked at her mother, and
noticed tears in her eyes. She wished she could run into the studio and shake her dad. It just wasn’t fair. He knew more about geography than any of the others, she was sure of it. All he had to do was get his act together and start answering some questions.

Round two came to an end and the presenter called out the scores. There was a tie for first place with eighteen points, and Dad was bringing up the rear with a total of minus two points.

Elma jumped up and stamped her feet a few times, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Dylan wanted to go home, but Elma knew they had to stay until the bitter end. Then they could all go home and be unhappy again.

Round three started, and Elma could hardly bear to listen. Then, on the fourth question she heard Dad’s voice again. This time he got the answer right, bringing his score up to a grand total of zero. Then a minute later, he buzzed again, and got another two points. This was quickly followed by two more correct answers. Zac started to jump up and down. ‘Is he winning?’ he asked. ‘Is he winning?’

Mum smiled at him. ‘Not yet, love, but he’s doing better.’

Dylan tapped Elma’s arm. ‘Is Dad going to win?’

Elma shrugged. All she knew was, if she wasn’t
going to be the laugh of the school on Monday, Dad needed to answer a few more questions.

At the end of round three, there was still a draw for first place, and Dad was still last, but at least he was no longer quite as far behind.

Round four started well. Dad got the first four questions right. Zac and Dylan jumped around the room, and knocked over a huge plant. Leaves and soil went everywhere, but Mum wasn’t even cross. She was staring at the radio speakers, like they held all the secrets of the universe. Then it seemed like Dad could do no wrong. He buzzed and buzzed, and only made one mistake. Round four ended, and now there was one leader, with Dad only six points behind her. Mum grinned at Elma. ‘Six points,’ she said. ‘That’s nothing. It’s only three questions.’

Elma couldn’t reply. She felt sick, and her hand hurt from her mum’s tight grip.

Round five was very dramatic. It was almost as if the other contestants had given up, and mostly it was just Dad and a woman who were answering. Elma struggled to keep score on her fingers, wishing the quiz could have been on TV so at least the score would be on a screen.

After what felt like a hundred years, a bell rang, signaling the end of the show. The presenter called
out the results, starting with fifth place. Then he called out fourth and third, but there was no mention of Dad. Elma could hardly breathe. Dad was first or second. Second would be good, but not good enough to get him to the national finals. The presenter took a deep breath. ‘And in a very noble second place, we have ………. Suzanne Wall.’

Now Mum and Elma joined in Zac and Dylan’s crazy dance. Dad had won! Elma could hardly believe it. It seemed like all her wishes had just come true.

Shortly afterwards, Dad came back to the waiting room. He was grinning so much, Elma thought his face was going to burst. Everyone ran and hugged him tight until he begged for mercy. ‘Back off, guys,’ he said. “I need to be in good shape – for THE NATIONAL FINALS!!’

Then everyone was so happy they hugged him some more.

Finally Mum pulled away. ‘Let’s go home, and I’ll cook a big celebration dinner,’ she said. ‘I’ll do roast chicken, and roast potatoes, and carrots, and lots of gravy of course, and then–’

Elma’s heart sank, but then her Dad interrupted. ‘Thanks, love,’ he said. ‘That sounds lovely, but you could do with a rest. How about we all go out for a pizza?’

And then there was so much cheering and shouting that a security guard came to see what was going on.

Elma smiled when she read Luke’s next letter. She couldn’t really be cross about Luke lying about the climbing trip to the Pyrenees; not when most of what she wrote to him was still lies. This would be a good opportunity to tell Luke that she hadn’t exactly been truthful herself, but she couldn’t find the right words.