Page 92 of A Class Act

‘Blimey, haven’t done that for a while.’ I smiled, turning in the narrow space and unlocking the door.

‘Don’t,’ he snapped, kicking out towards the door before hugging his foot to himself once more.

‘Why not?’ The atmosphere in that cubicle was fetid as well as slightly claustrophobic and I needed to get out. I realised Blane, as well as the lavatory, was somewhat odorous. Hisscrawny neck, peeking out from the frayed and dirty collar of his greying school shirt, was filthy.

‘Can’t go home.’

‘Why not?’

‘Told you, I’ve lost the bloody key.’

‘And your mum’ll be cross? Convinced a burglar might find it and let themself in?’

‘Me mam’s not there.’

‘Oh?’

‘She’s gone off somewhere.’

‘Where?’

‘Dunno.’

I remembered Mason telling me Whippety’s dad had left years ago and his mum had a heroin addiction.

‘You’ve brothers, haven’t you? Big brothers? Won’t they be at home?’

‘Dunno where they are. They’ve scarpered; couldn’t stand living with me mam any longer.’

‘OK. Well, at least let’s get out of this toilet. You hungry?’

‘I had me school dinner,’ he muttered.

‘What are you having for your tea?’

Blane shrugged but uncurled his legs from beneath him and stood.

‘I’ve some chocolate in my classroom. D’you fancy some?’

‘If you want.’ He shrugged again, but looked hopeful as he followed me out of the toilet block.

‘Oy, what you two still doing here?’ Jobsworth Ken was doing his final rounds. I looked at my watch and realised it was going up to 7p.m.

‘Just going, Ken. We’ve been in rehearsal.’

‘Him as well?’ Ken nodded in Whippety’s direction. ‘Can’t seehimas the next Fred Astaire.’ He gave a sneery chuckle. ‘Come on, the pair of you, out, my wife’ll have my tea on the table.’

‘Ten minutes, Ken, and then we’ll be off.’

‘Right,’ I said, once Blane had devoured not only the chocolate but my left-over cheese and pickle sandwich from lunchtime. ‘I’ll give you a lift home.’

‘I told you, I’ve no key to get in.’

‘Neighbours who might have one? Granny you can go to?’

Blane shook his head.

I needed Mason or Petra to tell me what to do but when I rang, both their numbers went straight to voicemail. I left messages and then tried Dave Mallinson but, again, no response.

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