An Unbreakable Bond
Tommy knew he was in for a right telling-off, and not from the local bully, Jacky Doyle, but from his own mum.
He whistled as he walked home, but his stomach twisted into knotshe was well and truly done for this time.
Auntie Rose, his mums best mate, had seen him with a fag. He couldve lied, said someone had handed it to him, but noAuntie Rose had seen him puffing away like a chimney. What was he supposed to tell his mum now? That someone had shoved it in his mouth and forced him?
Tommy hadnt let on that hed spotted Auntie Rose, and to her credit, she hadnt shouted or clouted him. Shed just given him a long, knowing look before going about her business. But Tommy wasnt dafthe knew shed already grassed him up. His mum was waiting with the wooden spoon, no doubt. Hed already circled the block twice when he spotted Gran.
Ah, the heavy artillery. This was low, even for her. Any minute now, shed start wailing about how shed raised half the children in the county as a respected schoolteacher, yet her own grandson was running wild. How ashamed she was, how his granddad must be spinning in his grave, and all the ancestors before him.
When he was little, Tommy had been terrified of that bithed pictured the earth shifting as the dead turned over beneath it. Then one day, it clicked. The next time Gran went on about restless ancestors, Tommy piped up, Good thing theyre moving about, Gran. Saves em from bedsores, like old Mrs. Thompson down the road.
Gran clutched her chest. Mum nearly wet herself laughing. She forgot to whack himthough Gran made up for it by smacking *her* with a tea towel.
Now Gran hurried toward him, eyes darting like *she* was the one caught smoking.
Whatre you doing out here? Why arent you home? she demanded.
II havent been yet.
Havent been? Whereve you been all this time?
School, then footie practice, then just walking.
Is that so? Here it comes, Tommy thought. Any second, shed tell him to breathe out so she could smell his breath. Whats this, then? Your hands are red! Where are your gloves?
Left em at home.
Home? And your mother didnt notice? Show me your ankles.
She yanked up his trouser leg and gasped.
Whats this?
What? Tommy panicked.
Why are your ankles red? Where are your long johns? And your scarf?
Tommy burned with shame. Worse, he spotted Jacky Doyle lurking in the alleyway, his bright red cap bobbing. Oh, brilliant. Thanks, Gran. Was she losing it? Shed always been sharp as a tack, but this
Gran whats five times five?
Twenty-five, she said, baffled.
Whats the square of the hypotenuse?
The sum of the squares of the other two sides Thomas? Have you not done your homework? She didnt even check? I wont stand for thislook at the state of him!
WaitGran was on *his* side? Maybe hed dodged Mums lecture. Had he slipped into some bizarro world?
Gran, which sides my appendicitis scar on?
Youve never had your appendix out.
Right. Definitely Gran.
She dragged him home, muttering under her breath. Mum was there, the kitchen smelling of roast, dressed up in her best frock, curls pinned, new earringsand heels? Since when did she wear heels at home?
Tommy, love, she hugged him. Wash up, dinners nearly ready. Mum, you staying?
Whys this child wandering the streets? Doesnt want to come home, does he? Well done, well done. Trading your own flesh and blood forwhere are his gloves? His long johns? Its freezing! But no, you dont care
Mum. *Stop.* Are you eating with us or not?
No! Im done here. Thomas, pack your things. Youre coming with me.
What? No!
The thought of Grans nagging for the next decade made him shudder.
Hes staying here, Mum said firmly.
Wheres *here*? Youve thrown it all away
Mum, if you dont stop, IllIll have to
What? Kick your own mother out?
Yes!
You ungrateful!
Mum didnt let her finish. She grabbed Gran by the arm and marched her onto the landing, slamming the door. Gran screeched about calling the police, demanding Tommy be handed over.
Mum hauled Tommy into the front roomwhere a stranger sat, tense.
Tom no use lying. This is your dad.
Gran wailed outside. Mum stood frozen. The man rosetall, thin, with Tommys own eyes. He held out a shaky hand.
Hello son.
Tommy stumbled back.
Butyou said he was *dead*.
Annie The manhis *father*looked crushed.
That wasnt me, Will. That was *her*. She said itd be easier for him to think you were gone than to know youd
A loud knock interrupted.
Police! Open up!
Annie, maybe I should go
No. No more hiding. Tom, well explain everything, justdont be scared.
Mum opened the door. In stormed Gran, a constable, and nosy Mrs. Jenkins from next door.
Whats going on here? Weve had reports of a disturbance
Nothings wrong. My husbands home from the North. This is his son.
But your mother claims
Hes a convict! An escaped convict! Arrest him! Tommy, come here
Gran, enough.
The constable checked Dads papers.
No record?
None. Been working up North since I left school.
Apologies, sir.
Arrest him! He ruined my daughters life
Mum, *stop*.
Mum shut the door.
A *father*? Eleven years without onewhy now? Gran had always said he was a drunken thief, killed in a brawl. A shameful secret.
But it was all lies.
Mum saw it comingTommy grabbed his coat and bolted.
He ran until his lungs burned, tears blurring his vision. Who could he trust?
Oi, kid Jacky Doyles voice. Tommy ignored him.
Hold up! Whos after ya?
Jacky grabbed his arm.
No one. Piss off.
Its brass monkeys out here. Youll catch your death. I was in hospital last yearbest grub I ever had. But you? Youre a soft un. Come on, mines not far.
Tommy hesitated.
Mums awayrailway steward. Just me.
The flat was shabby but clean. Jackys room had band postersThe Clash, Queen, Bowie. A guitar leaned against the bed.
Fancy a cuppa?
Tommy nodded. His stomach growled.
Hungry? How bout beans on toast?
Jacky cooked, humming. Tommy had never eaten anything so good.
Later, over tea, Jacky strummed his guitar.
Youre proper good, Tommy admitted.
Cheers. Thats Bowie. Thats Queen. Legends.
Tommy only knew The Clash. Jacky played along as Tommy sang, laughing when he messed up.
You best get home. Theyll have the bobbies out.
Tommys smile faded.
Jacky listened as Tommy spilled everything.
Dont be daft. A dads *brilliant*. Mines goneMum says hes an astronaut.
Really?
Nah. Shes a laugh, though. Raised me alone. No family. But shes ace. Sort it out, yeah? Grown-ups mess up too.
Tommy hugged him.
Jacky was right.
They found him. Mum, Gran, Dadall explained. How Gran hadnt approved of Dad, how shed written to him, pretending Mum had remarried. How Dad had believed it.
Why? Tommy asked Gran.
I wanted happiness for you both.
And him?
She wept. Forgive me.
On Tommys birthday, Jacky came. He brought a Clash posterMum let him hang it.
Tommy forgave them all.
Grown-up rubbish, Jacky had said.
Gran took Jacky under her wingfed him, helped with maths.
Years later, they still meet at the seaside, strumming guitars, eating beans on toast like kings.
And Dad? Tommy loves him. Hes got half-siblings nowall get on. But with Tommy, theres something unbreakable. A bond no lie could touch.
