The Night He Left: Episode 49

Fiona gave her son a tight hug and patted his hair. “Never ever do that again, Jamie. I thought something horrible had happened. I was so worried

Fiona patted Jack’s head and started to get up. “I called him a name,” Jack blurted out, tears now running down his face.

“I said his jokes were for babies and that he couldn’t run as fast as us and I think he got in a huff.”

“What did you call him, Jack?” Chris shouted at his son.

Fiona put up her hand and shook her head. “Leave it, not important.”

There was a whisper from Jack who was now blubbing. “A schemie, I called him a schemie.” “A what?” Chris barked.

“I didn’t mean it, he’s not, but some boys in his class are and . . .”

Fiona got to her feet. “Forget it. Right now, we need to find out where he went from here.”

“We still thought he was with us though, really we did,” Andrew said.

“Why don’t we all go along in lines towards the far end, like you see on the telly.

“We can see if we can spot any of his sweetie wrappers or anything, then we can get back to the house and...”

“Phone the police.” Fiona snapped.

Chris put an arm gently on Fiona’s. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Fiona, really.

“But why don’t you head home with the boys and I’ll nip down to the funfair, just in case?”

Fiona nodded “Okay, have you got your mobile?” Chris nodded and set off towards Riverside Drive, marching with his arms by his side.

A beam of light from his torch flashed up and down as he headed for the river.

Lone figure

Watching him, a lone figure in the dark, Fiona’s thoughts turned to something horrible she had read in the papers recently.

A child molester had been spotted hanging around school gates during the day and funfairs at night.

And hadn’t Jamie said he had seen someone who looked like Pete at the school gates? Surely not.

About 20 minutes later, she and the three boys crunched up the gravel path.

She pushed open the back door to hear the noise of the television. She was sure she had not left it on. She ran through to the lounge and flung the door open.

In front of the television, his Halloween costume in disarray, sat Jamie, calmly chomping on something chewy.

His broom lay on the floor in front of him.

“Hi, Mum, sorry I was late.”

He poked a bit of toffee from a tooth with his finger. Fiona rushed to her son and hugged him. She drew back and looked at his face, smudged with paints.

She shouted at him: “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you?”

Jamie looked round at the three boys who had come into the room.

Tears

He said nothing to any of them but put the volume up on the television.

“Where have you been?”

Fiona blinked her tears away and grabbed the remote control from her son.

She stabbed the off button and threw it onto a chair. Jamie glared at the boys then whispered: “Tell you once they’ve gone.”

He picked up the swag bag beside him and flung it over towards them. It landed at Jack’s feet.

“It’s all just my stuff in there, you can check.” “Stop being petty, Jamie,” said Fiona, flushed. She turned towards Tom and Andrew.

“You can go home now. Jack. Can you phone your dad and thank him for going to the funfair for us, but say Jamie’s safely home.”

Andrew and Tom headed for the door. Jack turned to go then stopped.

Shrugged

“Sorry, Jamie, I didn’t mean what I said.” He slunk out the door, his head hung low.

Fiona watched him go then sat down on the sofa beside her son. “So?”

Jamie frowned, his brow furrowed.

Fiona smiled; he looked so like his father, he used to make that same face while poring over drawings in his studio, his forehead a mass of lines as he concentrated.

“Well, Jack called me a schemie, said all the boys in my class were schemies, and . . .”

“Is that what it was all about?” Fiona shook her head. “Just leave it, ignore him Jamie, not worth it.” Jamie shrugged.

“He’s called me that before but he thought it was big to call me that in front of the big boys.

“Think he forgot they don’t go to his posh school either.”

“So where did you go?”

Jamie bit his lip.

“I wanted to get back at him so I ran along to Ben Conti’s house in Step Row but there was no one in. The house was all dark.

“So I hung around that end of the green for a bit, eating my sweeties and watching the trains from Fife on the bridge.

“I saw the seven forty-five and the eight ten, then I just came home.”

He gave her a forlorn look. “Sorry, mum.” Fiona gave her son a tight hug and patted his hair. “Never ever do that again, Jamie.

“I thought something horrible had happened. I was so worried.

“Thank goodness Granny and Pa weren’t here, they’d have had at least one heart attack between them.”

Stupid remarks

She turned and stroked her son’s hair then kissed his cheek.

“Remember, Jamie, you’ve got to ignore stupid remarks like Jack’s. It really is more grown up not to rise to it.

“Why not try laughing at him next time he says it or even better, just ignore it.”

Jamie nodded and absent-mindedly popped another sweet into his mouth.

“And that’s enough of the sweeties, Jamie. Come on, let’s get you upstairs and let’s get your teeth brushed.”

“Can I take some of the toffees to the football tomorrow? I think Martha likes them.”

Fiona smiled at her son. “Good idea,” she said. “Right, come on then, let’s get that face paint scrubbed off.”

More tomorrow.

Sue Lawrence is a popular novelist as well as a cookery book author. The Night He Left is published by Freight. Down to the Sea, her first historical mystery, was published by Contraband in 2019. Sue’s latest book, The Unreliable Death of Lady Grange, was published in March by Saraband.