Tracks Page 3

  ‘One minute, Alf, and I’ll be with you.’ The old man stood tall, a sour expression on his face. You could see he was agitated by the way he was fidgeting about. Donny’s mobile started ringing, Susan’s name flashing across the screen.

  ‘Hey, babe, gotta be quick because I’ve got some old geezer waiting to speak to me.’ He listened to his wife, confused. ‘Babe, I’ve just pulled up at school, the traffic was bad, bleeding hell, where do you think I’ve been?’ He held the phone away from his ear and shook his head before he interrupted her. ‘Babe, I’ve got to go. I’ll speak to you later. Bye.’ He ended the call, sat scratching his head. ‘Women,’ he sighed as he turned off the engine and grabbed the keys from the ignition.

  He loved his Merc as much as he loved his Rolex, so had to double check and make sure it was secure before he left it. Given the chance the students would have had it away for a spot of joyriding. They’d done it before with one of the other teacher’s cars and they would do it again. They’d waited until she wasn’t looking, dipped their hands into her handbag and had the keys out as fast as any professional pickpocket. Four hours the car was missing, the teacher was distraught. And then when the police found it, it had been smashed into a fence; a total write-off. You had to keep everything here under lock and key. Even the windows had silver bars over them making the place look a bit like a small prison.

  Donny walked over to Alf, fishing in his bag for a cigarette on the way. If he was going to listen to him moaning, then a ciggy would help. Susan thought he’d given up months ago so he was doing his best to hide it from her, but he was struggling to kick the habit. He was still getting through at least ten fags a day – but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He flicked his lighter, sparked up, sucked hard to release the first hit of nicotine of the day. He exhaled, blowing out a cloud of thick grey smoke.

  ‘Morning Alf, it’s a nice fresh one, isn’t it? Bit nippy though. You can tell winter’s on the way.’

  Alf had no interest in small talk, wasted no time in getting to the point. He jabbed his tobacco-stained finger at Donny, almost knocking the fag out of his mouth. ‘Those sodding kids have been at it again. Rubbish all over my bloody garden – you should see it. Took me over an hour to pick it up, me with my back and all. I’ve had enough. Tried having a word with them when they were walking past later on, and you should have heard the way they spoke to me. A right mouthful I got. They need a proper smacked arse they do. In my day kids were seen and not heard, not like these cheeky bastards. If I was a bit younger, I’d do it myself. I’d have had ‘em once upon a time, did a bit of boxing in the army.’ Alf made a fist and jabbed first left then right to make his point before grimacing and putting the flat of his palm on his lower back. ‘Bit rusty though, not as fit as I used to be.’

  Donny sighed. ‘I’ll have a word with them. Did you get their names because I’ll send them round as soon as they get in to do some litter-picking?’

  Alf’s grip on his walking stick tightened. ‘They need more than that, a good kick up the backside wouldn’t go amiss. Over twenty years I’ve lived here and since this school opened, I’ve had nothing but trouble. This needs sorting or I’ll have to go to the council. I’ll have this place closed down before you know what’s hit you. We’re decent folk round here and there’s enough going on without your lot adding to it.’

  Donny patted Alf’s shoulder. ‘I’ll have a word, mate. Just leave it with me. There’s a few new kids just started and they like to take the piss. Don’t be doing anything hasty. I’ll sort it.’

  Alf shook his head. He liked Donny; they had great banter discussing the horse-racing and football. Got on well when they ran into one another, usually a bit later, when Tony the postman was around too. The three of them would share tips, pick out a Yankee in the hope that they would win their fortunes.

  Donny knew it was in his interests to keep on the right side of them both; knew everyone round here, they did, could cause big problems for the school if they had a mind to. He tried to change the subject. ‘You having a flutter today, Alf? I’ve not had chance to look at the form, but I’ll do it as soon as things are a bit quieter. And we should check with Tony – he might have a few tips from his mate down the stables. Top lad.’ It was working – Alf seemed to be calming down, his cheeks less red.

  ‘On the flat anything can win. I’ve been having no luck though, been betting on donkeys lately; not won a carrot.’

  ‘No worries, let’s put our heads together later and see if we can win a placepot or something. And, don’t you worry about this lot in here, I’ll make sure you don’t have any more problems from them.’

  And there it was, Alf was back on track. No doubt he’d be back again in future, but for now he was happy. Donny turned and crunched along the gravel path heading back into the school as Alf shouted after him, ‘Oh yes, and you can make sure they keep the noise down too. Every morning I have to listen to them shouting and screaming – tell them to put a sock in it.’

  ‘Will do, Alf, see you later, mate.’ Donny’s mind was on other things now. He was first in as usual; the rest of the staff wouldn’t be far behind but he liked to check things over, make sure everything was just so before the kids started to arrive. His phone started ringing again, but this time he ignored it.

  Donny sat in front of his computer nursing a hot cup of coffee. He’d never been big on breakfast. A banana was enough. He peeled away the bruised yellow skin and took a big bite, concentrating as he started to read through his emails. The door opened and Tina Davies, the deputy head, walked into the office and flung her coat onto the back of her chair. She patted her hair down. ‘Bloody freezing out there, isn’t it?’

  Donny rubbed at his body with his hands. ‘Tell me about it. I found a polar bear in my car this morning it was that cold.’ He grinned.

  Tina smiled back; he was just what she needed every morning to take her mind off things. She had a lot going on, had had to take time off. To say she’d been depressed would be an understatement; she’d been to hell and back if she was being honest. And you could see, just by looking at her. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin was blotchy and pale. Tina pulled the blinds back, peered out of the window. ‘Oh my God, the traffic was horrible this morning. I left early to try and avoid the worst of it, but it didn’t make any difference. I might get a bike and see if that helps. Oh, by the way, I’m sure I saw your Susan parked up near here on my way in, is she coming in today?’

  Donny shook his head and looked confused. ‘No, Sue’s in work. Must have been somebody who looked like her.’

  Tina sighed, ‘Yeah, you’re probably right, I should get my eyes checked. Another thing to add to the list.’

  Donny carried on looking at his screen, while he listened to her going on. ‘Kettle’s just boiled, go and grab a coffee and warm yourself up,’ he stretched, arms high above his head, ‘unless you want me to warm you up.’

  Tina rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘I’m fed up, not hard up, Donny, keep your hands to yourself. I’ll get a drink in a bit. I just need to sit down for five minutes before the kids start coming in. Look at the state of me, I’ve hardly slept a wink all night.’

  Donny shot her a glance. She did look knackered. Things were obviously still bad. He cared about his staff and Tina had really been through the mill lately. She was a shadow of her former self. All she’d ever wanted was a baby and now she’d had to have a hysterectomy and it was never going to happen – her world had collapsed around her.

  It was no wonder she’d hit the bottle. Donny had tried talking to her about it just before she went on sick leave and he hoped, now that she was back in work, that it would have settled down a bit. But he knew things still weren’t great at home. She did everything for her two stepchildren but they gave nothing back by the sound of things. Typical stroppy teenagers, untidy, moody and ungrateful. Tina had tried her best, by all accounts, but it never
really made a difference. She definitely had her work cut out there.

  Most of the teaching staff were in now and Donny walked round the building doing the rest of his morning checks. He glanced at his watch: as well as a tutor coming in from the local college, there was a new teacher starting today and he wanted to be around to welcome her personally.

  He popped his head into the kitchen; he could smell the school cook before he could see her. You couldn’t really describe the combination of grease, tobacco and vinegar, but it wasn’t a good one. Donny tried breathing through his mouth but that just made him cough.

  ‘Morning, Rita. What’s on the menu today?’

  Rita was more interested in the scratchcard in her hand as the small silver coin uncovered the last couple of numbers. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ she muttered under her breath, ignoring Donny and dipping her head inside the fridge. Donny repeated his question, louder this time. ‘What’s on the menu today?’ She looked up.

  ‘Jacket potatoes, pasta bake and toasties.’

  ‘Lovely. And how are we, Rita, this morning? Are we in a good mood? I can see you’ve not won your fortune, but you’re rich in love, eh?’

  She shrugged, scraped her hair back from her face. ‘I’m always in a good mood, me. It’s these kids that do my head in. Lazy they are, don’t do a tap. I only asked Frankie to pass me a few plates through yesterday and you should have heard the way he went off on one. God knows how they live at home because if it’s anything like they are here they must live in shit-tips.’

  Donny leant back against the wall, his eyebrows arched. ‘It’s hard enough getting them in school each day, never mind getting them to clean up after themselves, so we have to count ourselves lucky. Don’t we?’

  ‘You’re a right soft arse, Donny. They are lucky they don’t get a clip round the ear. If it was one of mine they wouldn’t know what’d hit them. Dirty bleeders.’ Rita had worked here for two years and the job suited her, despite what she said. She liked her food, did Rita. Almost every time Donny saw her she was ramming something into her gob. She said it was quality control, but Donny had nicknamed her Mrs Kipling, though he made sure she never knew it. Rita riled was not something he wanted to have to face. She was a battleaxe, rough as a bear’s arse someone had once said, he’d forgotten who. And she was gobby, always spoke her mind – maybe that was why she fit in here. But she was not someone to mess with. Wallflowers didn’t last long at Second Chance.

  Donny looked out of the window. ‘You seen Frankie yet, Rita?’

  ‘No, but he usually gets in early, he should be here soon. Going to have a word with him about not helping me?’

  Donny started to walk away. ‘Yeah, yeah, if you see him can you tell him to bob upstairs and I’ll have a quick word with him.’ He turned back to face her. ‘Oh and, Rita, before I forget, we have two new starters today, a staff member and a new kid, Nancy Parker. Can you keep an eye on her at lunchtime and make sure she’s eating something? You know what the new kids are like, they just stand on their own, don’t mix with the others.’

  Rita closed the fridge door and plonked a massive piece of cheese on the side. ‘It’s a wonder any new kids stay here longer than a day with this lot. Nutters they are. I don’t know how their parents put up with them.’

  ‘So, that’s a yes then?’ Donny chuckled.

  Rita wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve. ‘I always look out for the new ones. I just hope this one’s not as lazy as the others.’ As Donny left the room she carried on getting stuff out of cupboards, banging the doors shut and stomping about. The students would be here soon, and they’d be wanting breakfast; there was no time to stand around. It was one of the things Donny had insisted on; that each child started the day with something proper in their stomachs. So every morning she would prepare toast, cereal – even open a packet of biscuits if they wouldn’t eat anything else. Rita enjoyed the peace while it lasted; ten more minutes and the place would be alive with the usual screaming and shouting. Every day brought a new drama – but no one ever joined Second Chance for a quiet life.

  Chapter Three

  Ged Grey lay in his double bed snoring his head off. His red hair was all over the place; he looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. He hated being ginger, always told his mother he was going to dye his hair once he was old enough. The bedroom door creaked open and his mother walked in. You could see that in her day, Clare might have been a good-looking woman. But now she was scrawny, underweight, her once raven hair streaked with grey. She stood looking at her son for a moment in the hope that he might be awake, but the noise was a giveaway. No such luck. She’d have to wake him, which never ended well. He was a nightmare in the morning, a total stress-head. No hope of getting a conversation out of him. She took a deep breath, braced herself.

  ‘Ged, time to get up. The minibus will be here in half an hour. You need to be up and ready or you’ll miss your lift. Mr Knight has already told you they won’t wait and I’ve not got money for bus fares, so move it.’ She hovered over him, hands ragging through her hair, dreading another day of arguing. Ged stirred, dragged the duvet over his head and groaned.

  ‘Nah, I’m not going in today. I don’t feel well. Just ring them and tell them not to bother coming for me.’

  Here they were again, another day in paradise. Clare stormed across the room and yanked the curtains open; a bright yellow light filled the room. She pushed the window open too, letting in the bitter cold from outside. She’d freeze him out of bed if he thought he was lying in his pit all day long.

  ‘Not a chance, Ged. This is the last chance saloon for you and if you lose your place at this school nobody else will have you. You’re sixteen – time to stop mucking about. No wonder you’re tired when you’re playing on that daft bleeding game all night long. I swear, if you’re not out of that bed in five minutes I’ll throw that sodding Xbox right out the window. Don’t test me, Ged, because I mean it. Right out the window and then I’ll stamp on it.’ This was a code red, his Xbox was his world. He flung the duvet onto the floor and bolted up from the bed with a face on him. Always angry. But then Clare was a hothead too and when she said she was going to do something, she meant it. She would have smashed it into a thousand pieces without a shadow of doubt, just to prove a point.

  He raised his arms, protesting. ‘Mam, I hate this school. I don’t learn nothing anyway. What’s the point, it’s shit?’

  Clare ignored him, marched across the bedroom picking up dirty clothes from the floor. Typical teenager. The room was a tip, stank of sweaty feet. ‘It’s your own fault you have to go there. What did you expect when you hit a teacher? Did you think they’d say, “Oh, Ged, it doesn’t matter that you assaulted one of our staff, come back tomorrow and we can start again”?’

  Ged hated it when his mother used that sarky tone. He made a face and dug his hands down the front of his boxers. ‘The man was a dickhead. Anyway, he started it when he pushed me up against the wall, what did you want me to do? He had it coming.’

  Clare had had enough. ‘What I wanted,’ she told him, ‘was for you to have a bit of respect and stop causing bloody trouble. How many times do I need to tell you how much stress I’m under? I’m a single parent; if I don’t go to work then who’s going to pay the bastard bills? Just do me a favour, Ged. Keep your head down and do your schoolwork. I can’t afford to be taking time off every week to go and see the teachers about your behaviour. This is your last year in school. Just do your exams and get a decent bloody job. It’s not a big ask, is it?’

  Ged stretched his arms over his head and sighed. He was all skin and bones. You could see more fat on a chip. If he turned sideways you’d have had to report him missing. He’d heard enough of her whining and raised his voice – always a sign that he was getting ready to kick off.

  ‘I get it. Fuck’s sake, just stop going on and leave me to wake up. Like I need to hear your voice going
on every bloody morning. Turn it in, will you?’

  Clare sighed. ‘You can stop swearing too. It does my head in. Where is your respect? You was never brought up to be this way, so fucking turn it in before my foot ends up stuck up your arse.’

  Ged didn’t flinch, just looked at her defiantly. ‘You still here? Just close the fucking door and let me get fucking ready. If you carry on moaning, I’m going to get back in bed, end of. Do one.’

  Clare edged out of the room, forcing herself to bite her tongue before she said something she would regret. His abusive language was the least of her troubles. The house shook as she slammed the bedroom door shut behind her. She stood with her back to the wall biting her knuckles, her body shaking from head to toe. Deep breaths, long deep breaths.

  Ged could hear his mother huffing and puffing outside his room and figured he’d better do as he was told for once. It was such an effort to get dressed. Maybe he should have gone to sleep earlier, not that he’d ever have admitted it. But he wasn’t going to miss out on all the action and the banter with his mates online. His legs wobbled as he put his trousers on and he fell back onto the bed. He started to pick at the bits of fluff from the top of the trousers. Maybe he needed some new ones; his mother had already let the hem down, put some of that Wundaweb stuff on them until she could afford some new ones. To be fair, you could hardly see the lines at the bottom, but he knew they were there – a constant reminder that his family were skint, potless. He flicked the fuzz ball across the room and lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling. There was no way he was rushing about. His mother could take a running jump if she thought he was ever going to be a star pupil; that would never happen, not now, not ever. Education was not his thing, none of that studying and revising for exams crap. Ged stared back up at the damp ceiling, black fungus crawling across it like a disease spreading through a body. His eyes pricked with tears – he had no idea why – he had to lift his head up to control his emotions. He was always filling up like this, it just happened. Maybe it was his hormones. His hand rummaged under the thin lumpy pillow and he pulled out a photograph of a middle-aged man. His touch was gentle, holding the picture like he didn’t want to spoil it in any shape or form. He studied it for a few seconds, stared at the image. His eyes closed and his mind was away with the fairies until he heard more noises outside his room. He rammed the snap back under his pillow; this was his treasure, the one thing that meant something to him, well, apart from his Xbox. He looked over to the window where he could see the grey clouds hanging low in the sky. It was like a grey blanket of despair creeping slowly over the top of the houses.