A Special Bond
Tommy was certain he was about to get the thrashing of his lifenot from the school bully, Gaz, but from his own mum.
Whistling nervously, he trudged home, his stomach in knots. He was done for. Properly done for.
Auntie Maggie, his mums best mate, had spotted him with a ciggie. He couldve liedsaid someone just handed it to himbut no, Auntie Maggie had seen him puffing away like a steam engine. What was he supposed to tell his mum? That someone *forced* it into his mouth? Like some bizarre reverse magic trick?
Tommy pretended he hadnt noticed Auntie Maggie, and bless her, she didnt screech or clout himjust gave him a long look before marching off. But Tommy wasnt daft. He *knew* shed already grassed him up, and now his mum was waiting with *the belt*. Hed already circled the block twice when he spotted Nana.
Oh no. Heavy artillery. This was *not* a fair move. Now Nana would start weeping, going on about how shed spent forty years as a headmistress, shaping young minds, only for her own grandson to turn out like *this*. How ashamed Grandad must be, spinning in his gravealong with every ancestor back to the Tudors.
When Tommy was little, that bit terrified him. Hed imagine the ground bubbling like a witchs cauldron as his ancestors flipped in their coffins. Then one day, it clicked. The next time Nana wailed about Grandads eternal unrest, Tommy chirped, Well, at least hes not getting bedsores, like Ryans nan!
Nana clutched her chest. Mum howled laughing, completely forgetting to wallop himuntil Nana whacked *her* with a tea towel.
Now, Tommy eyed Nana bustling towards him.
What are you doing out here? Why arent you home? she demanded, eyes darting like *she* was the one caught smoking. Fallen out with your mum?
N-no I havent been home yet.
Havent *been* home? Whereve you been all this time?
School, then footie practice, then walking.
Aha! *Here we go,* Tommy thought. *Any second now* Whats *this* then? Nana seized his hands. Why are they so red? Where are your gloves?
Forgot em at home, Nan.
*Forgot*? And your mum didnt *notice*? Whats *that* about? She yanked up his trouser leg. Good *lord*!
W-what? Tommy panicked.
Whats *this*? Why are your ankles red? Where are your *thermal socks*? And your *scarf*?
Tommy wanted the pavement to swallow him whole. Then he spotted Gaz lurking by the alley, his stupid red snapback peeking out. *Brilliant.* Cheers, Nan. No subtlety at all. Maybe she was losing itearly dementia or something. Shed always been sharp as a tack, but this?
Nan whats five times five?
Twenty-five, she said, baffled.
Whats the square of the hypotenuse?
Sum of the squares of the other two sides Tommy, love, have you *not done your homework*? She didnt even *check*? Right, thats *it*.
Waitwas Nana on *his* side? Could he dodge the lecture after all? Had he slipped into some parallel universe? Was Nana even *Nana*?
Nan, which sides my appendix scar on?
You *dont* have one, silly. Never had it out.
Okay, she *was* Nana.
She dragged him home, huffing like a steam train. Mum was in the kitchen, smelling of roast dinner, wearing her fancy dress, fresh curls, new earringsand *heels* indoors? Since when?
Tommy, love! Mum hugged him tight. Wash up, dinners nearly ready. Mum, you joining us?
Oh, *now* she cares! Left to wander the streets, was he? No gloves, no thermalsfreezing out here! But *why* would *you* care? Too busy with your*new priorities*.
Mum. *Please* stop. Are you eating with us or not?
No! Im *done* here. Tommy, pack your thingsyoure coming with *me*.
W-what? Why?
To *live*, sweetheart. No child of mines staying *here*.
Tommy imagined weeks of Nanas nitpicking. No. *Absolutely* not.
Mum, Tommys staying *here*. In *his* home. With *his* family.
What family? *Where*? Youve thrown it all away! Tommy, *come on*.
Mum, if you dont stop, I swear
*What*? Youll *kick your own mother out*?
*Yes*!
*Ungrateful*after all Ive
Mum didnt let her finish. What happened next was *spectacular*.
She grabbed Nanas arm, hauled her onto the landing, and *slammed* the door. Nana screeched about calling the police, demanding custody, something about a convict.
Mum yanked Tommy into the lounge, where some bloke sat stiffly, eyeing him like a bomb about to go off.
Tommy no point lying. This is your dad.
Nana wailed through the door. Mum stood frozen. The mantall, wiry, with Tommys eyesstood, hesitating, then held out a hand.
Hello son.
Tommy *flinched*. But youre *dead*.
Annie The man shot Mum a pained look.
That was *her*, Mum said. She told you that. Said itd be easier than than the truth.
The doorbell rang. *Persistently*.
Police! Open up!
Annie, maybe I should
*No*. No more hiding. Tommy, well explain
But Tommy wasnt sticking around. He snatched his jacket, bolted barefoot into the night, tears blurring the streetlamps. Who could he trust? If even his *family* lied
*Tommy!* Mums voice faded behind him.
Oi, mate! Gazs voice cut through the fog. Tommy didnt care. Things couldnt get worse. Hold up! Whos chasing ya?
Gaz grabbed his arm.
*No one*. Piss off.
Its *freezing*. Youll catch your death. Been hospital before? I was in last yearbest grub ever. But *you*? Nah, youre a softie. Come mine.
What, *yours*?
Yeah. Mums on shifttrain attendant. Come *on*.
Gazs flat was an experience. The front door looked chewed by a werewolf, but inside was spotlessin a weird, *lived-in* way.
Keep your shoes on. My rooms here.
Posters plastered the wallsOasis, Blur, The Clash. Tommys mum *hated* wall stickers. He had a Freddie Mercury one, swapped for six holographic Pokémon cards. A proper *glass* deskanother dream vetoed by Mum. And a *guitar*.
That yours?
Yep. Fancy a cuppa?
Tommy nodded, stomach growling. Shouldve eaten *before* his dramatic exit.
Fancy some grub? Beans on toast?
Tommy shrugged.
Gaz worked like a cheftoast crisped, beans simmered, cheese melted just right. Tommy had *never* tasted anything so good.
Over tea (in proper railway mugs with sugar cubes stamped with tiny trains), Gaz strummed his guitar, crooning Oasis. *Actually* good.
Youre *proper* talented, Gaz. Whos that one?
*The Clash*, you doughnut. Legends.
I know Bowie. *Rebel Rebel* Tommy sang, Gaz joining in.
You *gotta* go home, mate. Theyll have the coppers out.
Tommy scowled.
Whats *your* problem?
So Tommy spilled it.
Youre *daft*, Gaz said. A *dad*? Thats *brilliant*. Mines MIA. Mum says hes an astronaut.
*Wow*.
Shes fibbing. Found me in a left-luggage locker, probably. But she kept me. *Stop moping*. Sort it outits *their* mess, not yours.
Tommy hugged him. Cheers, Gaz.
Gaz grinned. For *what*?
*Everything*.
Gaz walked him home. The whole street was searchingMum, Nana, neighbours, a PC and *him*. The Dad.
They explained it laterhow Mum got pregnant, how Nana *hated* Dad, how they split when Dad went up North for work. Nana *forged* letters, made Dad think Mum had moved on. He *had* met someone else, brieflycouldnt lie, told her he loved another.
*Why?* Tommy asked Nana.
I wanted you *happy*.
What about *Dads* happiness?
Forgive me
At Tommys birthday, Gaz gave him a Bowie poster*Mum let him hang it*.
Tommy forgave them all. Like Gaz saidgrown-up stuff.
Nana *adopted* Gaz after learning he lived alonefed him roast dinners, helped with maths. He aced his GCSEs.
Years on, theyre still matesstrumming guitars at the caravan park, eating beans on toast like its gourmet.
And Dad? Turns out hes alright. Got half-siblings nowall get on. But with Tommy? Theres a *special bond*.
