‘Yes,’ said the masked face, gently putting her down. ‘It’s me.’ William’s dad took off the mask and laid it on the desk. People clapped and laughed as he folded Evelyn into a hug. Her face was so vividly red, William thought she looked ready to burst into flames.
When William passed Howard to get a chocolate from the big tin, Howard said softly, ‘Want to know the difference?’
It seemed momentous that Howard could tell when his mother couldn’t. William nodded.
‘Robert has a tiny blue vein in his temple, right here.’ Howard touched the dent in William’s head. ‘Tell your mum, but don’t tell her I told you.’
Later, his mother sobbed on the settee, being cuddled by his dad. ‘Evelyn, it’s OK.’
‘You humiliated me!’
‘William,’ his dad said, ‘give your mother and me a moment, please.’
William ran to the kitchen, grabbed a biscuit from the jar shaped like a cat, then sat with his back to the closed door to listen.
‘It was just a bit of fun.’
‘I hate it when the three of you join forces against me. Hate it!’
‘We weren’t joining forces.’ His voice was low and quiet; he was amused, not cross, William could tell from his cuddling voice.
‘Howard can tell.’ She wasn’t using her cuddling voice. ‘How do you think that makes me feel? Everyone laughing at me because I can’t tell my own husband apart from his homosexual brother!’
William stopped chobbling in case they heard him in the deep silence that followed. He didn’t know what that word meant, but he could feel the shock of her having said it from the quiet. He couldn’t imagine his father’s face. William licked a crumb from his bottom lip and felt it on his tongue. All he could hear was the soft whistling of breath through his nose.
‘And you expect me to sit back and watch the three of you get your claws into William,’ she started up again, ‘until he thinks his only future’s in this bloody place.’
‘Claws?’ His dad sounded baffled. ‘That’s how it feels?’
‘There’s a big world out there, I want him to feel he has choices.’
‘Of course he will. Give me some credit, Evelyn.’
His mother exhaled loudly. ‘Robert and Howard – they’re always there. And if William goes into the business … I know it sounds pathetic, Paul, but sometimes, I think William loves them as much as he loves me and you.’
William had leapt up then, pulled the door open and charged in, climbing onto her lap and holding her face in both his hands. ‘I love you most! I promise!’
‘Well hello, Mr Elephant Ears.’ His dad laughed. ‘Evelyn, you know I love you most too, don’t you?’
‘How much?’ she asked, softening.
He looked out of the window. ‘Enough to throw the monkey mask away.’
She leant into him and the three of them were a lovely tangle of laps and arms and cheeks. ‘I’d love that.’ And even though William thought he’d miss the monkey game, he’d rather not see his mum so scared and lonely again.
‘Mum,’ he said after a moment of cuddling, ‘Uncle Robert has a tiny blue vein, just there.’ He reached up and touched her temple.
‘Really?’ Dad said. ‘Well spotted, William.’
‘Howard told you, didn’t he?’ his mum said.
William shook his head, remembering his promise to Howard.
‘Yes, he did.’ She patted his back. ‘You don’t have to lie.’
He looked up at her; she was still soft and cuddly, but there were tears in her eyes again.
? ? ?
Tired and sad at the memory, as he knew he would be, William pulls back his sheets and gets out of bed. He finds her watching television, with only the weak twinkle of the Christmas tree lights, and sits next to her on the settee.
‘Hello, William.’ She lifts her arm and he snuggles into her.
‘Hello, Mum.’
She kisses the top of his head and they watch Billy Cotton and Vera Lynn’s Boxing Day Party.
‘I love you most, Mum,’ he says at some point. She tightens her arm for a second around his shoulder and kisses the top of his head.
23
Even with the stocky cast iron radiators on full, the assembly hall is hard and heavy with cold. Mr Atkinson’s shoulders seem rigid beneath his gown, and he isn’t looking at any of them as they sing ‘When a Knight Won His Spurs’.
Once they are seated and the headmaster starts to speak, William suddenly needs the toilet.
‘It pains me to have to start the term with a disciplinary matter.’ Mr Atkinson hasn’t even said welcome back, or Happy New Year. Martin nods at William’s bouncing left leg and frowns. William tries to sit still. ‘But I have received what can only be described as ridiculous letters purporting to be from parents requesting idiotic schoolboy favours. I am not a fool and will not be treated as one by foolish boys who should know better. All those involved – you know who you are – will come to my office straight after assembly.’
Mark Nettles, sitting along the row from William, twitches his head to the right slightly, but doesn’t look at him. He can’t see the younger boys, Charles and Anthony, from where he is. A pulse beats in the ball of his sweaty right foot. He remembers Charles whimpering through the night in William’s wet pyjamas back in September, and imagines how frightened he must be now. Martin’s face is innocent and calm as ever, singing the hymns as if he means it, closing his eyes for prayers, listening to the notices. William struggles to stay on his seat. The dark green tweed of Mr Atkinson’s trousers and the shine of his brogues, once admired by William, are now filled with menace.
‘Those boys coming to see me, wait outside my room,’ he says after the last hymn, gathering his papers from the podium, ‘I’ll be along shortly.’
‘I’m going to be sick,’ William says, as he and Martin walk along the corridor. Mark, Charles and Anthony are still in the body of boys funnelling through the hall door.
‘They should have thought of better requests,’ says Martin as they climb the broad stairs. ‘It’s their fault, not ours.’
‘Shoe lace liquorice?’ William says.