When I Was Joe (14 page)

‘Whoops,' he sneers, and pulls his foot back and kicks me in the ribs. I double up, swearing; he crows with laughter, and does it again. God knows what would have happened next, but the door opens and Mr Henderson appears.

‘What idiot's left his kit bag here for people to crash into? Get a move on and get out of here,' he demands. Then he notices me. ‘Stop messing around on the floor, Joe. Go and get changed right now.' I escape to the showers as Carl's gang file out.

I'm late again and that means yet another detention. Ashley's on the lookout as I come rushing into assembly and she's saved a seat for me. As I sit down I feel a sharp pain in the side where I was kicked. I wonder if the kit bag was left there on purpose.

It doesn't matter. Nothing seems to matter when I'm thinking about my gran all the time. I pay no attention during English and Geography and earn two
demerits. I've forgotten my Maths homework, which makes detention a double. Ashley wants me to hang out with her mates at break but I've had enough. ‘No,' I say, ‘I'm not in the mood.'

She's disappointed. She wants to parade me in the playground like a prize poodle at Crufts. Then she says, ‘Shall we go somewhere, just us?'

‘Where?'

‘I know. . .'

She knows everything, this girl. Right now, the way to a dark, dusty cupboard in the drama department. We squeeze in and there's just room for the two of us. My side is more and more painful where Carl kicked me, but it's amazing how much better I feel just slipping my arms around her. She seems to like the Turkish nonsense, so I'm saying random words in her ear – meat, vegetables, that kind of thing, trying to avoid obvious giveaways like shashlik and kebab. I can't even see her, but I can feel . . . and taste . . . and touch . . . and. . .

The bell's ringing for the end of break. I wonder wildly if she'd consider staying in here for the next lesson. For the rest of the day, in fact. Not only do I feel safe but I'm not thinking about anything scary at all. But she's tucking in her blouse and doing up her top button and saying; ‘Come on Joe, we don't want to be late for PE.'

I'd forgotten it was PE today. Great. Another encounter with Carl. And all my kit is wet through with sweat. It's only as I get to the PE block and see the boys lining up at the door that I remember today is the first time we're going swimming in the school pool. And not only do I have no swimming things, but I am also wearing contact lenses which will float out of my eyes if I go underwater.

Mr Henderson takes the register and I raise my hand. ‘I've forgotten my stuff,' I say. ‘Never mind, I keep a spare set and a towel in my office. Go and find it, third shelf down in the cupboard.'

Damn. I will just have to keep my eyes closed or out of the water or something. Or maybe I can borrow some goggles? It's annoying because usually swimming would be one of my favourite things. We get changed and I hear Carl and his mates sniggering when they see my bruises. I don't care. They're pathetic.

We do a few lengths freestyle to warm up then stand in the shallow end while Mr Henderson explains what we'll be doing next. It's quickly clear that keeping my head out of the water isn't going to be an option. We have to dive off the side, swim underwater for
miles
and then swim through a polystyrene wall with a hole cut in it. Impossible. I will go in with brown eyes and come out with green.

I raise my hand. ‘Mr Henderson, could I borrow some goggles?'

‘No, Joe. If you had been listening you would know that this is survival swimming and thus has to be done unadorned with either goggles or flippers. The government in all its wisdom has decided that too many children are drowning and they want to make sure that you have the skills to survive any accidental falls off boats or into rivers. It's a new scheme and, as a Sports Academy, we've been asked to pilot it. So it has to be done properly.'

‘I can't do it without. I'm sorry.'

Some of the boys laugh, not too nicely. Carl says, ‘Got a problem getting your hair wet. have you? Think it'll spoil your looks? Think your mascara will smudge? Well we'll help you out.' Two of his gorilla gang grab my arms and Carl pushes my head under the water.

I'm fighting and struggling and kicking, and breathing in water through my nose and my mouth . . . and bubbles of air are escaping in great gulps, and my lungs are bursting . . . and I can only see sparkles and dots and . . . I'm dying. . . Then they let go their grip on my arms and I leap up to breathe again.

I'm coughing and gasping and I hear Mr Henderson yelling his head off: ‘What the hell do you think—'
but I don't stop to listen. I launch myself at Carl, my arm goes back and – whack! – my fist crashes into his piggy face. He screams, hand flying to nose, and falls backwards, spraying a fountain of blood which stains my hand and clouds the water.

‘Grab him, lift him out of the water,' shouts Mr Henderson, and Brian and Jamie fish Carl out. They haul him up to the edge where he quivers, snivelling, with blood streaming down his face, and then he spews up his breakfast all over the side of the pool.

‘For God's sake,' says Mr Henderson. ‘Go get a towel,' he barks to Brian. Brian goes running and comes back with Carl's towel, and is told to get changed as quickly as possible and go for the school nurse. ‘And tell her she's probably going to have to call an ambulance. And then get Terry the caretaker to come and clean this up.'

I can't stop staring at the blood on my hand and the blood in the water. I'm starting to shake, like I did that time in the gym. The blood is dripping into the water and it's on me, and I'm going to drown in blood. It's only Mr Henderson's icy voice that pulls me into the present.

‘All of you, get out of the water and go and get changed. You can then go to lunch. Joe, as quickly as you can to my office once you are changed.'

As soon as we're in the changing room Jamie and Max pat me on the back. ‘You were totally within your rights,' says Max. ‘He was trying to drown you.'

‘Where did you learn to punch like that?' asks Jamie. ‘Can you teach me?' Carl's lot, I notice, keep as far away from me as possible.

I shower – making sure that my hands are clean, that no blood remains – and dress as slowly as I dare, trying to put off the interview with Mr Henderson. Brian comes back into the changing room to get his stuff and finds me there alone apart from Jamie and Max who are asking if they should come with me. ‘Because it's not fair,' says Max. ‘You were only defending yourself, but he's let Jordan and Louis get away with it.'

Brian's flushed with excitement. ‘Carl's gone off to hospital in an ambulance, still in his trunks, wrapped in a blanket, and the school nurse thinks his nose is definitely broken and they're worried he might have inhaled some blood and vomit into his lungs because he can't stop wheezing,' He too slaps me on the back. ‘Great stuff, mate. Haven't had such an entertaining lesson for months. Not since Ashley slapped Kelvin's face in Geography for daring to ask her out.'

‘I'd better go,' I say. ‘He's going to be even more angry if I'm late.'

Brian offers to come as well but I think Mr Henderson might not appreciate a support party. ‘OK,' says Max, ‘but if he's really not fair and chucks you out, we're ready to go and protest for you. We'll make a petition or something.'

‘Thanks,' I say, and I really mean it. I'm feeling very alone at the moment, and it's good to find people who are prepared to stick their necks out.

Mr Henderson is on the phone when I sidle into his office. He points at the armchair and I sit, head down, while he talks: ‘Yes, yes indeed. Yes, yes, to casualty. No. No, nothing like this. Yes, indeed.' It's one of those conversations that sounds like it could go on forever and I'm almost surprised when eventually he puts the phone down.

‘That was the headmaster,' he said, ‘and you won't be surprised to hear that he wants to see you, with your parents, in his office on Friday morning. 10 am You will be suspended from school until then.'

My throat is very dry and it's hard even to speak. ‘My mum's away and I don't know if she'll be back on Friday and she's all the parents I've got.'

‘She's away and you're by yourself?'

‘No, there's someone staying with me.'

‘Then if she's not back, that person is in
loco parentis
and will have to come with you.'

I'm trying to imagine Makeover Maureen, who I have met all of twice, by my side as I am excluded from school, and the total global explosion that will take place when my mum finds out.

‘Am I going to be excluded?'

‘I have no idea, Joe. I would say you've made a pretty good attempt at it. What on earth did you think you were doing? You could have killed him.'

‘Could I?'

‘Knocking someone out in a swimming pool? What if he'd hit his head against the side? What if no one had brought him out of the water in time? He's probably suffering from concussion and a broken nose. Where on earth did you learn to punch like that?'

‘Oh, I used to go to boxing club.' I'm actually amazed that I can punch so hard. I was the most useless boy in the club. All the training must have massively enhanced my strength.

‘Boxing club. Lord deliver us.'

‘What about him and his mates? They were drowning me.'

‘There's no excuse for what they did, but you were actually under the water for less than a minute and they let you go as soon as I told them to. And there was absolutely no need for you to retaliate in the way that you did, whatever the provocation.'

I shrug. And again I feel that sharp pain in my side. I must have winced because Mr Henderson asks, ‘What's the matter?'

‘My side hurts. I got kicked this morning.'

‘When you were messing around on the floor?'

‘I wasn't messing around. I fell over someone's kit bag.'

‘You fell over someone's kit bag and then someone kicked you?'

‘Carl.'

‘I see.'

‘He didn't like me getting the access card. And he doesn't like me anyway.' There's no real need to mention mildly winding him up at the shopping centre.

Mr Henderson is looking puzzled. ‘Joe – you look different. Is there something wrong with your eyes?'

He's spotted that the contact lenses have gone but he doesn't know what's different. He's never really clocked what colour my eyes are. What can I say?

‘I have contact lenses and they shouldn't go in the water. Now they've gone. Maybe it makes me look a bit different.'

‘So that's why you were making a fuss about swimming underwater! You should have brought a note from your mother. Joe, the fact remains that you punched and injured another student in the swimming pool.
I'm going to have to rescind your access card and I'm not sure that I can let you go on having special training with Ellie.'

Now I'm angry. This is really not fair. ‘But it was him . . . he attacked me first. . . I had to defend myself. . . If you don't defend yourself you can end up dead.'

I'm so nearly crying that I have to shut up right away. Right away, before I start howling like a five year old. . . Oh no . . . I can't hold back the tears at all and I have to bite the back of my hand to stop sobbing out loud.

Mr Henderson shoves a box of tissues towards me. He sounds less angry and more disappointed. ‘Joe, you know we think you're very promising and we've been very happy with your progress. I'll certainly be reporting good things about you to the head as well as this unfortunate incident.'

Now I've started crying, I really can't stop. The pain in my side is burning into me and I keep on imagining Gran's face, all swollen and cut, bleeding and mashed to a pulp. The thought of having no training, no Ellie as well, is too much.

Mr Henderson says, ‘Joe, maybe I should call the person who's standing in for your mum and get them to come and pick you up? Who is it, a grandparent?'

‘No . . . my gran's in hospital.' My voice is all over
the place. ‘That's where my mum is. But they won't let me see her.'

The bell rings for the end of lunch. Mr Henderson sighs and says, ‘I'm going to have to go and take 7P for rounders. Stay here and calm down a bit, and hopefully things will look a bit better on Friday. I'll try and make sure you're not disturbed. And when you're ready, then you can just go home.' He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a toffee. ‘Try this. It might make you feel a bit better.'

He leaves me alone in the office and I force myself to take deep breaths and stop the crying. Chewing the toffee does help a bit. Eventually I'm able to dry the tears and the snot, and by then there are no tissues left in the box.

I've got to get out of here before the end of school when there will be hundreds of kids milling around. I've got to get out before anyone sees me and spots that my eyes are green and my nose is red and I've turned from cool hard Joe into jelly-baby Ty.

No one spots me sprinting across the playing fields and escaping through the side gate. I carry on running down the hill and into the High Street. The sensible thing is to go home right away, find my spare set of lenses and tell Maureen what's happened. I don't do the sensible thing. I cross the road and head for Ellie's house.

I have to explain. Maybe she can persuade them that I can go on with the training. I don't want her to think that I didn't value her training. I'm worried that she's going to despise my lack of focus, my lack of control, my basic weakness.

I ring the doorbell and Ellie's mum comes to the door. She looks surprised. ‘Hello, Joe,' she says. ‘Not in school today?'

I shake my head. ‘Is Ellie here?'