My Name Is Leon (15 page)

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Authors: Kit de Waal

BOOK: My Name Is Leon
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Leon and Sylvia lie on the bed together, rolling from side to side.

28

Sylvia wakes him up early the next day. The skin on her face looks even more creased than usual and her eyes are hardly open.

“Rough, rough, rough,” she says as she sits at the kitchen table.

“Are you pretending to be a dog?” Leon asks, smiling.

She looks at him and points at the kettle. Leon fills it and flicks the switch. Then she points at her handbag and he passes it to her. She digs around inside and then shoves it across the table and puts her head on her arms.

“Your fault, this is,” she says. “You and your bloody social workers booking themselves in at half past bloody eight.”

Leon finds her cigarettes, takes one out, and puts it in her hand.

“Thanks, love,” she says. She drags her head up and it lolls around on her shoulders. She lights the cigarette and blows the smoke up into the air.

“I've got about half an hour to look gorgeous.”

Leon says nothing.

“It's a new one. A big cheese. The boss of the boss, something like that. A bloke at any rate. Sounds all right on the phone. You never know, you never know.”

Leon says nothing.

“Could be my lucky day.”

She takes a mirror out of her bag and squints into it.

“Not too shabby, Sylv. Not too bad at all.”

In half an hour they are both ready. Leon only took a few minutes to get a wash and then Sylvia told him to tidy up the kitchen. Sylvia spent all the time in her bedroom, muttering and swearing. When she comes back she looks the same as she did before but she has some lipstick on and it's too bright. And it's on her teeth but Leon is scared to tell her.

She punches all the cushions on the sofa and fills the kettle.

“I used to be married, you know. Yes, didn't know that, did you? And Maureen. We were sisters that married brothers. She got the good one and I got the bast—the loser.”

Sylvia goes to the front window, moves the net curtains aside, and looks up and down the road.

“Then there was someone else. And he left me as well. Up here.”

She taps her temple.

“Not just me. Took leave of his senses, as they say. Cuckoo.”

Sylvia carries on tapping her temple even when she's not talking.

“I couldn't see it but Mo knew it from the get-go. Said he needed to sort himself out. Don't we all.”

She lets the curtains drop.

“Look, here he is. Let him in, let him in. Wait. Quick. Now.”

Leon opens the front door and a man holds his hand out.

“You must be Leon. I'm Mike.”

He has a perfect social-worker smile and a hot, damp hand. He has a checked shirt and shiny purple boots with yellow laces.
He has short hair that sticks up like a brush and an earring in the shape of a cross that judders when he moves. Leon moves aside to let him in.

“Is Sylvia about?” he asks.

Sylvia comes out of the kitchen, showing her pink teeth and creased face. Mike holds his hand out.

“Mike Dent, Independent Reviewing Officer for Leon. We spoke on—”

“Come in,” says Sylvia and she points to an armchair. “Coffee?”

“Black no sugar, please.”

While Sylvia is gone, Earring gets some papers out of his briefcase. Leon can see he also has a Mars bar in there and Leon wonders if he has brought him a present.

“How are you, Leon?”

“All right.”

“We've not met before, have we?”

“No.”

“Well, I'm an Independent Reviewing Officer. I'm the person in charge of making sure we're taking care of you properly and we're listening to what you say. Part of my job is to talk to you face-to-face so I can be certain you're happy and well. You're old enough now to have your wishes and feelings taken into account and for you to tell us what those wishes and feelings are. I also have to think about what your needs are from our point of view and then make sure that all your needs are being met. All right? Do you understand what I've just said, Leon?”

“Yes.”

“I've come today to give you some more information on what's happening with your placement and also what the plans are for you in the long term. And also to ask you how you are. And also to ask you if there is anything you're not happy with. We do this from time to time to make sure that we are taking good care of
you. Okay? Do you understand this, Leon? Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Earring begins writing something on a notepad. “No questions so far?”

“No.”

“And Sylvia? You getting on with Sylvia?”

“Yes.”

“You're a sizable lad for nine. Let's see, your birthday is on . . . ooh, it's in a few weeks' time. Looking forward to it?”

“Yes.”

“And what would you like for your birthday? Bet you've been talking to Sylvia about it all the time. I know I did when I was your age. Couldn't wait for my birthday to come around. Pestered the life out of my parents.”

“Yes.”

“Right, and you had an access visit with your mom on the, let's see, eighth. How was that? Was it good to see your mom again?”

“Yes,” says Leon and he remembers Carol's brown-stained teeth and her brown-stained fingers when she picked up her bag. “Leon,” she said, “I can't manage myself, let alone you.” She squeezed his hand and walked out of the room. He ran to the door and watched her get smaller and smaller as she walked down the corridor. She had to press a buzzer to get out and while she was waiting for it to open, Leon thought she might turn around and wave. But she didn't.

“Leon? I said how about school? Do you like your school?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. Thanks for this coffee, Sylvia. For the first part of the meeting, I'd like to speak to Leon on his own. Is that okay?”

Sylvia walks back into the kitchen.

“Right. Okay, let's make a start.”

Earring speaks too quickly, like he's running out of time.
He asks all the questions the Zebra asks but faster, writing and talking or putting ticks in boxes. It goes on for ages, then he sits back and takes a breath.

“Are you happy here, Leon?”

“Yes.”

“What's it like living with Sylvia?”

Leon looks at the door to the kitchen. He sees Sylvia behind it with her cigarette.

“Where's Maureen? When am I going back home?”

“By ‘home' you mean back to Maureen's?”

“Who's got all my other toys?”

“Which toys?”

“Me and Jake had lots of toys and we had to leave them all behind. I had lots of Action Men that my mom and dad bought me. I had seven. No, eight. And now I've only got one.”

Earring is looking through his papers and doesn't speak for a moment.

“One-sixty-four B Benton Avenue South? You mean when you lived with your mom?”

“Yes, and I took some of them to Tina's, to Auntie Tina's house. Jake took some of his as well but he left to go with the other people. Where is Jake? Where does he live?”

“Let's take this one question at a time, okay? Right, when you went into care, Leon, and when your mom left, I'm afraid she also left all her property in the maisonette. She no longer has a tenancy there. That means someone else lives there now and I don't know what has happened to all her possessions. I'm sorry about that.”

Leon says nothing.

“Now, if there was stuff at Auntie Tina's, that's Tina, Tina—” he looks at his papers—“Tina Moore, then I could certainly try and follow that up for you and see if there's anything she forgot to pass on to us. Let me just write this down so I don't forget.”

He writes slowly and then taps the paper with his pen.

“What else? Yes, right, you asked about Jake. Do you understand about adoption, Leon?”

“Yes.”

“What is adoption?”

“Am I getting adopted?”

“Is that what you would like, Leon?”

“No. I want Jake to come back.”

“Adoption is where you get a new family, a new mom and/or a new dad. And you go and live with them. Adoption is forever, Leon. It means you don't go back to your first family. You live with a new family all the time you're growing up.”

“Where is he?”

“Jake is living with his new family.”

“Where does he live?”

“He lives far away, Leon. Well, not that far, but he has a whole new life.”

“Why can't I live with him?”

Earring picks up his coffee cup and looks inside like he's trying to decide whether to drink it or not. He puts it back on the table.

“This must be very hard for you, Leon. Jake was adopted because he was a little baby that needed looking after. You both needed looking after, actually, but sometimes adoption is best for some children and fostering is best for other children.”

“You said he would write to me.”

“Me?”

“The other one.”

“The other social worker? Yes, well, he might. Is that something you would like, a letter from Jake?”

“I've been waiting ages,” Leon says and he decides to go to the toilet in case he starts to cry but, as soon as he stands up, some tears spill out and Earring sees them.

“Leon,” he says, “this is a very difficult thing to understand. You must miss him.”

“He misses me!” Leon shouts. “He's crying for me! I heard him!”

“Is that what you're worried about, Leon? You think Jake is unhappy?”

“He needs me,” says Leon. “Only I can look after him.”

Earring makes a little shaking movement with his head. His Adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat.

“It was a really, really hard decision to make to split you up from Jake, Leon. Really difficult, Leon. We tried to think of a way that we could keep you together and a lot of people sat around a table and after a long, long time, we couldn't find a way that was fair to both of you. We want you and your brother to be happy and have the best chance in life and sometimes that means finding that happiness in different ways. Has anyone explained this to you before?”

Leon says nothing.

“Do you think you'd like to talk to someone about how you're feeling, Leon?”

Earring isn't writing anymore but he's making little dots on the paper with the end of his fountain pen. The end of the pen is like a little metal knife. It could be dangerous and it could kill someone. It could kill Earring if Leon picked it up and stabbed him through the soft bit of his eye. He would push the pen in and write on Earring's brain: “I fucking hate you. Black Power. From Leon.”

Earring's mouth is moving and he's blinking and, all the time, he's trying to be Leon's friend.

“. . . arrange for you to see someone, special advisors trained to help children who have been through a difficult time. Would you like that?”

“Jake will forget about me.”

“Well . . .”

“I won't forget him but he might forget me.”

“I think—”

“You're making him forget. You took him away so he could forget about me. You only care about him. You think you know what he wants but you don't. Only I do.”

“Leon—”

“Only me. No one else. They don't know how to look after him.”

“I think you—”

“He misses me.”

“I'm sure he—”

“He might be upset and you don't care.”

Earring puts his pen down and Leon knows every word that he's going to say. He knows he will turn his head a bit to the right then the left, he will talk slowly using baby words because he thinks Leon is stupid, but whatever words social workers use they all mean the same thing.

“It's very difficult—” he starts.

Leon runs down the hallway and slams the bathroom door. He picks up the toilet seat and bangs it down. The noise makes him jump. He unravels all the toilet paper and shoves it down into the toilet bowl and then puts the towel in it and then Sylvia's dressing gown from the back of the door. He tries to close the lid but the toilet is too full, so he just pulls and pulls the seat until his arms hurt and his fingers tingle and his face is all crooked and then finally it breaks and rips out of its socket. Leon catches himself in the mirror. He thought he would see the Incredible Hulk with green skin and a chest as wide as a double bed and a ripped shirt. But he looks just the same. He is nearly ten and he is black and Jake is one and he is white. That's why Jake is adopted. That's what Maureen said and she's the only one who has never lied.

Sylvia knocks on the door.

“You all right, love?” she says.

Leon sits on the edge of the bath. He's wet himself.

“Leon?”

Sylvia opens the door. She doesn't say anything. Leon can feel the pee itching his legs and he wants to take his jeans off but he can't move. The pee is in his sneakers as well and in his socks. Sylvia closes the door and he hears her go down the hallway. He can hear her voice and Earring's voice and it sounds like an argument.

Leon takes everything off, even his underpants, and goes into his bedroom. He puts his tracksuit trousers on with his school shoes and he sits on the bed. Sylvia will tell him to leave. She always said she wouldn't stand for any nonsense.

He finds his backpack and he makes sure that everything is inside. He has all his important things and all the zippers are done up. He hears the front door close and he hears Sylvia coming back, so he goes to stand at the window so he doesn't have to look at her.

“Made a right mess of that bathroom, haven't you?” she says. He can hear the cigarette in the corner of her mouth.

“What were you thinking?”

Outside in Sylvia's garden there is a black and brown cat walking very slowly on the grass with his head down. He is going carefully like a soldier in the jungle. He's trying to catch something but Leon can't see what it is. It might be a mouse or a rat or a bird. Once, Leon's mom bought him a kitten but it made him sneeze, so his mom gave it away and bought him a dog with a battery in it. Leon wanted a real dog but his mom said no. Then Leon remembers Samson and the way Leon's dad said he would hold his paws and break his heart open. Leon starts to cry.

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