I Hear You Calling Page 4

  ‘I thought you were here to be an impartial person,’ his eyes pierced mine as he spoke. ‘But I see now I was fooling myself. You are just here for her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Please leave my house.’

  I could feel the whole thing slipping away quickly.

  ‘I am sorry you feel that way Mr Banks. I assure you I am impartial, however, I am just pointing out to you that many other parents are complaining to Mrs Wilkes and therefore she must consider their complaints, just as she should consider yours.’

  Shaking his head in frustration the man appeared to calm down a little as he said, ‘Sorry Miss Simpson, I didna’ mean to be rude but I had hoped that you would see the situation for what it really is – a breach of our son’s human rights. But all I keep hearing about is the rights of the other kids. Look, I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel I can talk about it right now without becoming too angry.’

  His shoulders hunched, he looked at least a foot shorter as he turned away from me and left the room.

  And so Janet and I were left alone, looking at each other in uneasy silence.

  ‘He’s really very upset and angry about it all.’ Janet finally offered.

  ‘I can see that’ I said, in a tone that I hoped sounded sympathetic. ‘My concern is that if we don’t get this sorted Richard could end up being permanently excluded from school, and he is only nine years old. Obviously that is not what anyone wants.’

  ‘Just let me talk to him when he has calmed down,’ she said. ‘Leave me your phone number and I will call you if he will meet with you again, though I don’t hold much hope really.’

  ‘What a bloody drama queen that man is,’ I thought as I drove away. ‘No wonder the kid’s a bit strange.’ The mother seemed more reasonable but even she was a bit off with the fairies – what was that about privileged to have been chosen to be his parents? No wonder the kid talks of having a mission if his head is constantly being filled with this nonsense.

  ……….

  ‘Well, I have to say I was hoping for more positive news.’ Carol said.

  ‘I will try again when he has had chance to cool down a bit,’ I told her. ‘The main difficulty is that Mr Banks is so convinced that he is in the right he is not even prepared to consider any other point of view.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ the head teacher sighed into the phone.

  Jen

  I had mixed emotions really when Rae moved to the Midlands. On the one hand I was really happy that she was well away from Jim and could start again but on the other hand she is my little sister and I knew I was going to miss her like crazy. It was me who insisted on the long phone calls every Sunday, Rae was in such a reclusive state at that time that I thought I might never hear from her again if I hadn’t.

  So every Sunday night at about seven o’clock we had a chat about our week. I liked hearing Rae’s stories about what the kids of Eadstone got up to; she probably shouldn’t have told me them because of data protection and all that malarkey, but I didn’t know them so it didn’t matter really and anyway, I think when you do a job like hers you need to be able to talk about stuff, otherwise it would go round and round in your head and drive you crazy.

  When she first told me about Richard I was shocked really. I mean, you don’t expect something like that to go on in real life. Years ago there was a film, Sixth Sense I think it was called, about a little boy who could see dead people and that freaked a lot of people out. But at least it was a film; this was happening in a small town in the Midlands, for real, and my sister was involved.

  I have to admit I was a bit fascinated as well as shocked, I mean if the kid was upsetting and scaring people so much he must have been pretty accurate in the stuff he was saying hadn’t he? Nobody would have got upset if he was just talking rubbish, would they? I tried to point that out to Rae, it didn’t go down to well though.

  ‘Don’t tell me that you believe in this rubbish,’ she said in a really starchy voice.

  ‘No, I don’t believe it but I’m not sure I disbelieve it either,’ I tried to sound less starchy than she did, but I was a bit rankled. ‘I have learned that things are not always black and white and so I try to keep an open mind, just like you used to do,’ I couldn’t help adding.

  Wow – talk about light the blue touch paper and retire – Rae blasted me out then telling me how she is doing the best she can to survive and how she is who she is now and would I please stop living in the past and trying to take her with me.

  Anyway, after that we didn’t mention Richard Banks again for ages.

  Richard

  So, Scott comes back to school but he won’t sit next to me or play footie with me or anything. I try hard to say sorry but he won’t listen, he sticks his fingers in his ears and does that “la,la,la” thing that the girls do when they don’t want to hear you. It makes me want to cry but I don’t want him to see that so I run away quickly and hide in the toilet.

  I am talking with Solly a lot more now ‘cos I don’t really have anyone else to talk with.

  Things are a bit bad at home; Dad is really angry with Miss Wilkes ‘cos she sent some woman round to the house and she tried to tell Dad that I shouldn’t be talking to the spirit world and Dad says she was horrible. I said that maybe I should stop, at school anyway, cos it is causing so much trouble and making everyone unhappy but then Dad got more angry and this time he is angry with me, not the school.

  The only person who is happy with me right now is Mum, she is giving me lots of cuddles and smiles and that’s really nice. But Mum can’t come into school and play footie and she can’t be my partner in P.E and she can’t sit with me at lunch time and share jokes.

  So, just before bedtime, I tell Dad all about what Solly has been telling me about the spirit world and he starts to smile at me again. I don’t tell him that Solly told me that stuff weeks ago ‘cos I want to make him happy that I am still being a medium.

  I know it is the right thing to do because when I go up to bed Dad ruffles up my hair and Mum smiles at me like everything is ok again and when I get into bed Dad comes in and starts asking me what I would like for Christmas.

  Rae

  Carol Wilkes rang me again.

  ‘He’s still doing it,’ she said as soon as I answered the phone. ‘This morning he told one of our cooks that her aunty was helping her to stir the stew.’

  It was only Carol’s obvious distress that stopped me laughing at loud at that one.

  ‘The worst thing is,’ she went on, oblivious to my struggles to keep serious, ‘the daft woman believes him and made a big fuss of him.’

  ‘Well at least she won’t be complaining to you about him,’ I tried to pull out a positive.

  ‘I’ve given her a severe warning and told her never to encourage him in that way again.’

  “I bet you have,” I thought with a grin.

  ‘He shouldn’t have been anywhere near the kitchen anyway but he said the spirits led him there so that he could give the cook a message. I’m telling you Rae, if you don’t have any success with this family soon I will be closing his place here.’

  ‘I’ll have another go with them,’ I promised.

  ‘He’s not really calmed down yet.’ Janet’s southern accent was more obvious over the phone for some reason.

  ‘I appreciate it’s difficult for you, but if Mr Banks won’t respond soon Mrs Wilkes will just move to exclude.’

  ‘I know, I do get that Miss Simpson. Can you give me another couple of days to work on him?’

  ‘Please try to make him see that this is not personal and that we really need him on side.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  She sounded so unsure that I wasn’t planning on holding my breath until she had convinced him.

  Amazingly Mr Banks himself rang me that same afternoon. ‘I want you to leave us alone unless you have something new
to say. That woman is picking on my son and until she decides to at least meet us in the middle I have nothing to discuss with any of you.’

  ‘But Mr Banks………

  ‘There are no buts, that’s just how it is.’

  The phone line went dead and I could imagine Chris Banks in their small hallway slamming the receiver down with great satisfaction.

  ……………..

  ‘Is there any chance of me arranging a meeting for us with the Banks’ where we might be able to come to some sort of compromise as a way forward?’ I held the phone away from my ear in preparation for the raised voice I expected to hear in response to my question.

  Instead Carol gave a short and dignified snort.

  ‘There is no compromise Rae, he just has to stop doing it.’

  Stalemate then, I thought as I ended the call.

  It was just a shame that a little boy was the pawn they were playing with.

  ***

  Winter was definitely threatening us by mid - November, I was going out to work on dark cold mornings and returning home on dark cold evenings, these only broken up by lighter, but also cold, day-times spent in stuffy buildings.

  The trees in the woods had changed their costumes from green to red and brown and the frequent heavy rain had turned the ground underfoot to mud. All but the most dedicated of dog walkers had reduced their excursions it seemed, but guilt over leaving Barney on his own all day when I was working made me keep to my normal routine.

  It had all gone quiet on the Springhill/Richard Banks front. I worked on the case of Shauna Mansell, a fourteen year old who had huge issues with controlling her temper and was more likely to tell a teacher to “piss off” than she ever was to say, “Yes Miss.”

  Around the same time I encountered little Charlie Flanagan, a scrawny eleven year old with a squint and poor hygiene, who was stealing other kids’ tuck to feed his hunger and smashing up classrooms when he found his work too difficult.

  Before I knew it we were well into December and Jen was raising the dreaded question.

  ‘So, Christmas is coming.’

  ‘Yep, that time of year when little kids all over the country wear tea towels on their heads and bring gifts to a plastic doll.’

  ‘Be serious Rae, its only weeks away. Are you coming to us or not?’

  ‘Can I let you know next week? Is that too short notice?’

  ‘You can let me know the day before, that’s not the problem. The problem is that you won’t think about it and I don’t want you leaving it too late and then staying home and being miserable.’

  ‘No, next week. I promise.’

  And then there were only 3 days left till the end of term and I still had not made a decision. I love Jen dearly and Mark is a sweetie but the problem was that, family or not, I just hadn’t felt right there last year. I had been very aware that Mark had gone out a lot during that week and I had felt responsible for him being uncomfortable in his own home. Also, neither Jen nor Mark were great dog lovers and, although they accepted Barney’s being there, it was not something they actually enjoyed. The alternative though, was to spend the time entirely alone and I was not sure that I was emotionally strong enough to do that without wallowing in self-pity at some point.

  ‘You see Barney,’ I told him as were walking through the woods, ‘everybody has their own Christmas, we’d only be tagging on to theirs, we wouldn’t be having one of our own. What we need is one of our own.’

  ‘Woof.’

  ‘Glad you agree. That’s what we will do then – we will make our own Christmas.’

  I know that Jen was disappointed when I told her that I would be staying home this year but she took it on the chin and made me promise to ring her if I got too lonely.

  Decision made I threw myself into it; I dressed the house with green and white winter floral displays and soft white fairy lights. The warm smell of pine and spices from the potpourri I had placed in every room filled the house. The final masterpiece was, of course, the tree; a Norwegian pine standing 6ft tall and dressed in bronze and cream coloured baubles with candle shaped white lights twinkling from the deep green branches. My house looked and smelled like Christmas.

  It just didn’t feel like it.

  The big day dawned, cold and frosty as it should be. There was something a bit magical about the woods that morning and every person walking there seemed extra pleasant and happy. I made myself call out “Merry Christmas” to everyone I passed in the hope that some of the joy would rub off on me but sadly it didn’t.

  Barney wolfed down his portion of roast turkey and gravy then rushed over to the table to see if I was prepared to share any of mine with him. I wasn’t. I stuffed it all down until I had to open the button on my trousers before moving to the sofa. We were both sprawled out in a very full and contented state of mind when I heard the letter box rattle. I was so full I couldn’t even be bothered to go and see what had been pushed through my door, I just rolled over and went to sleep.

  I didn’t even remember it until much later that afternoon when I was taking Barney out, but when I went to open the door there was an envelope sticking half way through. It was a Christmas card, showing a very traditional image of a Victorian family gathered around a huge decorated tree in front of a glowing fire.

  When I opened it up there was nothing inside it but the printed message:

  “Wishing you a joyous Christmas.”

  ‘That’s a bit odd,’ I told Barney as I fastened his leash onto his collar.

  ‘Woof, woof.’

  ‘Just what I thought,’ I told him as I threw the card into the wastepaper basket.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  …………………….

  The rest of the week was much easier; on Boxing Day I took a train into Birmingham and hit the sales. So many people had the same idea and I began to really empathise with sardines. The bargains were amazing when you could get to them and I almost spent out what was left of that month’s salary with no other income in sight until the end of January.

  Barney and I had long wintery walks and met up with most of the regulars, many of them looking a little washed out after their celebrations but all saying that they had had a “nice” Christmas.

  And then it was New Year’s Eve.

  It was five past midnight, the start of 2014. I was watching the finale of the amazing fireworks on TV when the phone rang.

  ‘Happy New Year Sis.’ I could tell from Jen’s slurry greeting that she had been celebrating.

  ‘To you too,’ I told her, raising my coffee mug to my lips.

  ‘We did it Barney, we had our first very own Christmas and New Year.’

  From his basket Barney raised the flap of one ear and gave a deep grunt in response.

  Then I crept into bed and cried myself to sleep.

  Richard

  So, first morning back in school after Christmas and guess what? Scott starts talking to me in the playground. I know it’s only ‘cos he wants to tell me about all of the amazing presents he had, but I don’t really care, at least we are talking again. And then, when we go into class, he comes and sits with me just like he used to. I am really happy all morning.

  And then at lunchtime he starts telling me about his presents again and I already know ‘cos he has told me about twenty times since we got back to school so I start to look around the playground to see if there is a game of footie going on anywhere that we can join in.

  That’s when I see the girl sitting on the edge of the quiet garden, she looks really sad.

  I know she is from year six but I don’t know her name, she is tall and has very long blonde hair that is sometimes in plaits. Now though it is just hanging loose over her shoulders and down her back.

  Suddenly the hamsters come and Solly tells that I need to go over to the girl

  I don’t
go into a trance state, I just tell her what Solly tells me to say to her.

  ‘Your cousin is OK.’

  Her head jerks up and she stares at me. Her face goes very red and she makes her hands into fists as she tells me to go away.

  ‘I just need you to know, Melissa is OK and she still walks to school with you every morning.’

  And then one of her fists swings through the air and his me in the eye. It really hurts.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ I yell at her and grab hold of her arm to stop her hitting me again.

  She starts to cry then and that’s when her teacher, Mr Carson, sees us and comes running over.

  Even though I am the one with the punched eye it is the girl that they all fuss over. The more people who come over to us the more she cries and in the end she is making real loud noises and gasping for breath. All the teachers there keep looking at me as if I am really bad and even though I try to tell them that she hit me they just shake their heads.

  Mrs Wilkes doesn’t even shout at me. She just picks up her phone and tells Mum that she has to come and get me, again, and that this time I can’t come back to school for three days. I am suspended.

  Rae

  ‘Carol Wilkes rang,’ Pam said as she placed a mug of coffee in front of me. ‘She has excluded Richard Banks for 3 days following an incident. She wants you to ring her straight away.’

  ‘It can’t go on Rae. The boy is now worrying me, as well as annoying me. I have asked Mrs Banks to take him to the GP but she refuses. Then I asked her again to let me refer him to the Educational Psychologist and she put the phone down on me.’