Underdogs. Chris Bonnello
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and going, and his mother’s arrival when the school finally called and admitted they’d lost her son.
It had taken long enough, but that day’s troubles were finally worth it. Ewan and his team knew exactly where to hide outside Grant’s AME test centre.
He hadn’t liked the prospect of walking the whole way around Harpenden rather than through it, as it added miles to his team’s journey. But it wasn’t like they were short on time. They had about ten minutes’ walking left to do, and several hours of waiting would follow.
Ewan turned around to look at his friends, expecting them to be weary and exhausted. It was nearly midnight, after all. Instead, he found them just as determined as they had been at Spitfire’s Rise, but without the additional layer of worry that McCormick had given them. Out of sight really was out of mind.
Raj and Kate were at the back of the group, whispering to each other. Ewan decided to keep away from them when he noticed their hands were joined. Mark was towards the front, overtaking Ewan whenever he got the chance. Whether he was hurrying the group or trying some kind of power play, Ewan neither knew nor cared.
In the middle was the trio Ewan almost didn’t notice: Silent Simon being straight-faced and apprehensive – a world apart from the smiling humorous boy he had been at Oakenfold. Lazy Gracie, who did and said as little as possible, allowing herself to be led by people she considered superior to herself. And Jack, who was stimming his fingers and most likely daydreaming again. Or planning for all possible outcomes. Sometimes the line between the two was blurry for him.
‘Ewan,’ came a whisper from Raj, audible from a distance in the silent countryside.
Ewan turned around to find Raj holding up his mobile phone and battery. He nodded, and Raj prepared to phone comms.
‘Mark,’ he said, ‘time Raj. Three minutes.’
It got rid of the icy giant breathing down his neck. Mark huffed, but did as he was told. Once the phone was switched on, Grant’s technology would take a minimum of three minutes to detect its location. Calls to the comms unit were never long.
With Mark at the back of the group timing her boyfriend, Kate ran up to Ewan.
‘How are you doing?’ Ewan asked.
‘Me? I’m an expert at conquering my demons. I’m fine. I was wondering how you were.’
There was a clear waviness in her voice. Kate was nervous, but rushing in headlong. Life experience had taught her that the only way of destroying her fears was to do the things she was scared of, so the mission was right up her street. She’d be fine.
‘Ewan?’ she said. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Kind of conflicted, to be honest,’ he answered. ‘Back at home, it was obvious why Grant took Oakenfold. He wanted to make us feel pressured into taking the school back, but also scared of doing it. Logically we just need to tell ourselves to not be sentimental, and use our knowledge of the school to our advantage. But… it’s different now we’re this close.’
‘Oakenfold meant something to us,’ said Kate. ‘There’s no shame in feeling emotional about going back.’
‘Yes there is. Emotional distractions could mean death.’
Ewan looked behind him. Raj was deep in conversation with either Alex or Shannon, and Mark held up two fingers to represent two minutes left.
‘I’ll be fine once we’ve stopped hiding,’ he said. ‘It’s just this particular hiding place. It—’
‘Was this where you hid the day you escaped school?’
‘…Yeah. And wow, that backfired. Still can’t shake Mum’s reaction from my head. When we got home…’
He shook his head, unwilling to continue. Kate seemed surprised.
‘You lived with your mum?’
‘Um, yeah. Don’t most people?’
‘I just assumed it was you and your dad. I mean, you talk about your dad all the time, but… I’ve never heard you mention her.’
Ewan shuddered. Bloody hell, that hurt! As if the pressure of approaching an occupied Oakenfold wasn’t enough, a girl he had lived with for almost a year had opened his eyes to something awful: one of the worst results of his avoidance habit.
Please tell me I haven’t gone a whole year without mentioning my mother . I must have at least thought of her.
‘Dad got us our weapons. That’s the main reason I’ve talked about him, I guess.’
‘What were they like?’
Kate, you’re my friend and everything , but please just shut up.
‘Complete opposites of each other. You couldn’t imagine two people being so different. They say opposites attract, but maybe their opposite genes mixed so badly they gave birth to the ultimate screw-up.’
Kate opened her mouth, but Raj cut in before she could protest.
‘I told them we’re striking at three,’ said Raj. ‘That’s still true, right?’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’
Raj fell to the back of the group, and Kate went with him. Ewan had just enough time to breathe half a sigh of relief before someone else picked up the conversation.
‘You want some advice?’ asked Jack. ‘From someone else with a dead mum?’
Ewan hadn’t even known Jack was listening. In most conversations, it was difficult to tell the difference between when he was concentrating and when he was daydreaming. In both cases, he looked away from people and flicked his fingers. As a child, it had led to adults talking about Jack as if he weren’t in the room. Apparently, non-autistic people thought his ears only ever worked in conjunction with his eyes.
Ewan’s mouth opened, but he reigned in his impulses and stopped himself before telling Jack to mind his own damned business. In all fairness, his thoughts were always worth a listen.
‘I was twelve when Mum died,’ said Jack. ‘I didn’t talk about it for a long time. Surprised I even told you when I did, to be honest.’
‘A cancer death’s different to being sprayed with bullets, Jack. You didn’t see the moment she turned into a corpse.’
‘I’m not competing with you, Ewan. If I were, I’d tell you how long and drawn out my mum’s pain was compared to yours. I’m talking about the aftermath. Maybe you don’t mention her because the memory of her death is too painful. But I’ve heard you mention everyone else who died that day, including little Alfie. So I’m going to guess your relationship with your mum was a little complicated.’
‘You mentioned advice, Jack?’
‘Yeah. Don’t let things rot.’
Ewan threw a glance at Jack, looking as confused as his face would let him, although he suspected Jack wouldn’t see his confusion in the dark.
‘When I was about fifteen,’ Jack continued, ‘I realised I couldn’t remember her voice. You know my memory, Ewan, it’s spectacular – every fact about dinosaurs I learned as a child I can still regurgitate now – but I can’t remember stuff when I spend years shutting it out.’
Ewan took a moment to see if he could remember his own mother’s voice. He was afraid Jack might be right.
‘I didn’t want to deal with the hurt,’ Jack continued. ‘But when I realised what I was forgetting, I changed. I decided the hurt was worthwhile. Bring on the pain, if it keeps her alive in my head.’
Ewan nodded, and gave an answer that didn’t reference his mother.
‘McCormick