who killed my Billy?’ Tommy heard a woman bellow. Nobody was singing any more, they were all fixated by the commotion. Tommy stood on the pew to get a better view.
‘Murderers! First, my Terry and then Billy. My heart is broken in pieces. May you all rot in hell,’ the woman screamed, before being carted off by the police.
‘Was that Billy Fletcher’s mum?’ Linda asked Tommy. She hadn’t seen the woman.
Tommy was about to reply when his father yanked him off the pew with such force he twisted his ankle.
Tommy woke up next morning with a throbbing ankle and broken heart. He and Linda had thought their mum would have a grave nearby that they could visit and lay flowers on. It had been a huge shock to find out her body had been burned and all that was left of her now was a pile of ashes.
‘You awake, Tommy?’
‘Yeah.’
Linda perched herself on the edge of her brother’s bed. She had been so upset over the awful events of yesterday, she had wanted to stay with Tommy last night, but Nanny Noreen had forbidden her to. ‘You’re not a little girl any more, Linda. Brothers and sisters of a certain age shouldn’t share the same bed,’ she’d snapped.
‘Dad wants to take me out for the day, but I don’t really want to go,’ Linda informed her brother.
‘Is he taking me too?’
‘No. That’s why I don’t want to go. Did you hear him come in drunk around midnight? He knocked the grandfather clock over and it smashed. He scares me when he drinks too much.’
‘I heard him knock something over. Did he say where he’s taking you?’
‘No.’
‘I ain’t staying indoors with that old witch. But I’m too scared to go out in case I bump into any of Billy Fletcher’s mates. They’re bound to want to beat me up after everything that’s happened and I can’t even run properly ’cause my ankle hurts too much.’
‘I wonder when we will see Hazel again? I don’t ’arf miss her, Tom. And Mum.’
Tommy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Me too.’
As the children clung together like two lost souls, neither had any idea there was far more upset to come.
‘You need to pack a case, Tommy. Your Uncle Ian will be picking you up soon,’ said Nanny Noreen.
Tommy dropped his Shoot magazine in shock. ‘What! Why?’
‘Because you’re going to stay with him. Your dad can’t look after you. He has to go back to work soon.’
‘What about Linda? Is she coming too?’
‘No. Linda will stay with me.’
Tommy felt his pulse quicken. This didn’t sound short-term. ‘What about Rex? Where will he live?’
‘Rex is going to live on a farm. Be nice for him. He’ll have lots of space there to run around,’ Noreen lied.
Tommy’s face crumpled. ‘No. I’m not leaving Rex, or Linda. I can’t. I won’t.’
‘There’s no alternative, I’m afraid, Tommy. Your dad’s going back to the oil rigs and I can’t look after two of you.’
Stifling a sob, Tommy ran out into the garden and crawled inside Rex’s kennel. He draped his arms around the dog’s neck. ‘I’m being sent away to live with my Uncle Ian. You’re being sent away too, but not with me. You’re going to live on a farm. You’ll like it there. Be better than being stuck out here, boy. And I will visit you, I promise. I’m so gonna miss you, though. I love you, never forget that, Rex.’
Within the hour, Tommy’s anguish had turned to acute anger. He barely knew his Uncle Ian, had only ever met him about four times. What right did his father have to palm him off like some unwanted rubbish? Any decent man wouldn’t go back to the oil rigs. He would stay at home and care for his kids who’d lost their mother, Tommy fumed.
‘I made you a fried-egg sandwich,’ Nanny Noreen said as Tommy came into the kitchen. She didn’t hate the boy, but could never love him either.
‘I ain’t leaving Linda and I ain’t leaving Rex. What time will my dad be home?’
‘Not until late. Now, go pack your case. Uncle Ian will be here soon.’
‘You can’t make me go. I won’t,’ Tommy yelled, knocking the plate and sandwich on to the lino.
Nanny Noreen sighed. ‘You have to. Uncle Ian is your only known blood relative. It’s either that or a children’s home.’
‘What? I don’t understand.’
Nanny Noreen actually felt quite sorry for the child and wished Alexander would have told him. ‘There is no easy way to say this, Tommy, so I shall just be blunt. Your father isn’t your real father; so I’m not your real grandma either. I’m sorry, boy. But you have your mother to thank for that.’
Feeling nauseous and dizzy, Tommy bolted out of the front door.
It was the local bobby, PC Kendall, who found Tommy in a dishevelled state in Barking park. He had only recently joined the police force and Mrs Young had told him, while he was on the beat, that she’d seen young Tommy run from the house in his navy Parka, tartan flares and white trainers, looking extremely distressed.
PC Kendall sat on the bench next to the forlorn figure and ruffled his hair. Valerie Boyle had been a beautiful woman inside and out. A lot of his colleagues had fancied her. They reckoned she was the spitting image of the actress in the Carry On films.
‘Go away. I want to be alone,’ Tommy mumbled.
‘I want to help you, Tommy. I’m a policeman and that’s my job. I wasn’t much older than you when I lost my mum, ya know. Fourteen, and it was tough. It’s true what they say, though: time is a healer. I know it doesn’t feel like it at the moment, but one day you’ll be able to think about your lovely mum and smile again. Nobody can ever take the wonderful memories of her away from you. They last for ever.’
‘But it’s not just my mum, is it? It’s everything.’
PC Kendall sighed. The Hazel incident had been a major talking point at the police station. It wasn’t every day a fourteen-year-old girl clumped a lad of the same age over the head with a paving block, killing him stone dead. ‘Why don’t we get you home, eh? Your dad will be worried and it’s cold out here. That wind is bitter today.’
‘I ain’t got a dad.’
‘Course you have. Alexander’s your dad.’
Tears streamed down Tommy’s face as he looked the local bobby in the eyes. ‘He ain’t my real dad. My nan told me today. She ain’t my real nan either. That’s why Rex has to go to live on a farm and I gotta live with Uncle Ian,’ he gabbled.
PC Kendall winced. He knew life could be cruel, but not this cruel. Poor little Tommy had lost everything in less than a fortnight. He hugged the freezing boy close to his chest. ‘I’m so sorry, mate. I truly am. I know how much you love Rex. So, is Uncle Ian related to your mum?’
‘Yeah. He’s her weird brother.’
‘Weird? What do you mean by that?’
Tommy shrugged. ‘My dad – sorry, I mean Alexander – always called him a weirdo. Not to his face, like.’
Though he hadn’t been a copper long, this triggered alarm bells in PC Kendall’s mind. ‘Is your uncle married?’
‘Yeah. To a woman called Sandra. She’s very fat.’
Kendall relaxed slightly. ‘They got kids?’
‘No. They got cats.’
‘Where do they live?’