Lucky Break Read online

  I waited for the red man to change to green. The road was quiet. A couple of kids from my school brushed past me as they dashed across the road. As I watched them run off laughing, I imagined them mocking my fluorescent tabard.

  Finally, the green man lit up, beeping. I checked both ways and stepped into the road. My pace quickened, I reached the opposite kerb and released the air from my lungs. I walked on without lifting my head because I didn’t want to look at the safety barrier and remember it buckled out of shape.

  I got to school just as the bell went. Kids swarmed towards the building and funnelled through the double doors where there was the usual crush of bodies, everyone protecting themselves with bags and elbows. I went with the flow, pressed tightly amongst the throng. The crowd began to disperse as kids filtered off into their classrooms.

  My class was near the end of the corridor so the scrum was over by the time I got there.

  ‘All right, Leon,’ said Tom Hubbard as I entered.

  ‘Hi, Tom.’

  ‘Coming to watch the game tonight?’

  ‘I can’t.’ I made a disappointed face. ‘I promised my dad I’d go with him to the driving range so …’

  The truth was I couldn’t bear to watch the school rugby team play – even in the cup semifinal. Lenny and I used to play in the team together. He was scrum half and captain and I played on the wing. He had lightning hands and I was pretty quick too.

  Since Lenny died Mum wouldn’t let me play because it was too dangerous. She read somewhere that over a thousand people suffer head injuries playing rugby every year so that was the end of that. She even wrote a letter to the school stating that I was not to engage in any kind of contact sport – or a whole load of other what she called ‘risky activities’. Now, when other kids were doing cool experiments with Bunsen burners I got to study the periodic table on my own. Awesome.

  Tom was the rugby captain now. He was OK but he wasn’t Lenny. Lenny didn’t make a big deal of being the captain. He just encouraged everyone during the games and got on with it. Tom preferred to start psyching everyone up for about a fortnight before every match.

  ‘It’s a big match tonight.’

  ‘Yeah – you said,’ said Ash Morton. He was the hooker in the school team.

  ‘Semifinal,’ Tom said meaningfully.

  ‘We know, Tom.’

  ‘If we win, we’ll be in the final.’

  Ash glanced at me, rolled his eyes. ‘So that’s what “semifinal” means?’

  Tom nodded earnestly and said, ‘Games don’t come any bigger than a semifinal.’

  ‘Apart from a final,’ I suggested.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I was just thinking a final is probably a bigger game than a semi, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Sure. That goes without saying.’

  ‘So what we’re saying,’ said Ash, ‘is that, apart from a final, games don’t come any bigger than a semifinal?’

  ‘Uhh … Sure. Obviously.’

  Ash smiled mischievously. ‘What about the last game of the season between the teams placed first and second in the league if they’re tied on points?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you say that match would be bigger than a semifinal?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe. I guess,’ Tom replied.

  ‘So what you meant was, apart from a final and an end-of-season league decider, games don’t come any bigger than a semifinal?’

  ‘Sure. I think,’ Tom said, irritated. ‘All I’m saying is we’ll need a hundred-and-ten-per cent effort tonight.’

  I desperately wanted to tell him it’s impossible to get more than one hundred per cent. Instead I nodded, avoiding Ash’s eyes.

  Mr Rooney came into the class so I took my seat and bent down to get some books out of my bag. When I sat up again I noticed a boy was standing next to the teacher at the front of the class.

  The kid was a fair bit taller than me, pretty solid-looking with fleshy features and pale skin. His brown eyes darted about as though he was searching for something. Half the class hadn’t seen Mr Rooney enter and were still talking or messing about.

  ‘OK, everyone.’ Mr Rooney’s deep Scottish drawl was always full of scorn. ‘Sit down and settle down, you’re like a bunch of squawking mother hens. That includes you, Simpson. I know you’re all excited because today’s your last day of school before the half-term break but there’s a whole day of learning to get through first.’

  Eventually the chatter died away and the class was silent.

  ‘Thank you so much.’ Mr Rooney’s grin reminded me of a crocodile baring its teeth. ‘That wasn’t so difficult now, was it? Before we get started today I want to introduce you all to Arnold. He’ll be joining the school after the holiday but he’s come in today to have a wee look-see. I want you all to make him feel extremely welcome.’ Mr Rooney paused then turned to Arnold. ‘Och, I know that some of them look pretty unpleasant, Arnold, but looks can be deceiving. Once you get to know them you’ll realise that actually every single one of them is pretty unpleasant.’

  He winked at Arnold, who just frowned.

  ‘Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?’

  Arnold shrugged and Mr Rooney took a step back.

  Arnold cleared his throat. ‘My name is Arnold,’ he said slowly.

  Some of the class nodded. Everyone waited. Arnold turned expectantly to Mr Rooney who took a step forward.

  ‘Well, that was certainly a little more succinct than I’d anticipated,’ Mr Rooney said dryly. ‘Always leave them wanting more, eh, Arnold? OK then, let’s see where we can put you. Ah yes, there’s a seat next to Callum with your name on it.’

  Arnold walked across the classroom and stood in front of the empty chair, peering at it.

  ‘I can’t see my name,’ he said.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Mr Rooney, who had already started writing something on the whiteboard.

  ‘You said this chair had my name on it,’ Arnold said. ‘But it doesn’t.’

  Stifled laughter rippled around the room.

  ‘I see we have something of a comedian in our ranks?’ said Mr Rooney, forcing his lips into a smile. ‘I just meant for you to take that chair.’

  Arnold picked up the chair. ‘Where to?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Where shall I take the chair to?’

  A bigger wave of laughter this time.

  ‘Are you trying to be funny, young man?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Then kindly put the chair behind the desk then sit on it.’

  Everyone watched Arnold tuck in the chair. Then the room exploded with laughter as he dropped his school bag and slid his backside onto the desk, swinging his legs.

  ‘On the chair, Arnold,’ Mr Rooney boomed. ‘When I said put the chair behind the desk and sit on it, the it referred to the chair, not the desk.’

  ‘Oh, right. Sorry.’ Arnold slid off the desk and walked round it, pulled out the chair and sat down.

  ‘Finally,’ said Mr Rooney with his crocodile smile. ‘I didn’t expect that to be quite such a struggle. Now, Callum, I want you to chaperone Arnold for the day – be his tour guide, if you will.’

  ‘Do I have to?’ Callum groaned.

  ‘Well, if that doesn’t make you feel welcome, Arnold, I don’t know what will.’

  Everyone in the room was smiling.

  Everyone that is, except Arnold.

  Ash and Tom weren’t around at lunchtime because the rugby team was having a meeting to talk tactics for the big match that evening. I was idly watching a mass kick about in the playground when the ball came my way. I couldn’t resist chipping it back towards one of the goals. It was only a gentle kick but Mrs Richards saw. She gave a long blow on her whistle like a lifeguard who’s spotted kids bombing in the swimming lane and everyone stopped to look.

  ‘No contact sports, Leon Copeman,’ she hollered. ‘That includes football.’

  ‘I was only kicking their ball
back,’ I said.

  ‘Well don’t. Next time let them get it themselves.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, feeling my face redden.

  After that I just wandered around. Watching all the other kids having fun made me wish Lenny was with me. We used to have such a laugh together at lunchtime – playing touch rugby or throwing a tennis ball or playing chase. It didn’t matter who else was around when I was with Lenny. Often a crowd of kids would gather around him, chanting for him to perform his famous back flip.

  ‘Flip, flip, flip.’

  When he’d done it, I used to hold up his hand like he was a boxer who’d just won the world title and everyone would cheer. I was so proud of him.

  Suddenly I really missed him. It was almost as though the more kids there were around me, the lonelier I felt. It was like I wasn’t a whole person without Lenny. Like everything about me was a bit weaker … like I had a brightness knob and someone had turned it down.

  I noticed Arnold sitting against the fence that ran around the edge of the school grounds. He was on his own and looked about as lonely as I felt so I went over and sat next to him.

  ‘What’s up?’ I said.

  Arnold studied the sky. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean how’s it going? What do you think of the school?’

  Arnold shrugged.

  ‘Where’s Callum anyway? I thought he was supposed to be showing you the ropes?’

  ‘What ropes?’

  I turned to study Arnold’s face. There was no twinkle in his eye, no twitch at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘I just mean Callum was supposed to be looking after you, wasn’t he?’

  Arnold snorted. ‘He left me.’

  ‘No way. What happened?’

  ‘He said he had to get something from his locker. He told me to wait by the water fountain and he’d be back in a minute but he didn’t come back.’

  ‘He just abandoned you?’

  Arnold nodded. I imagined him waiting forlornly at the drinking fountain, watching kids come and go – eagerly hoping to see Callum return.

  ‘How long were you waiting?’

  Arnold frowned at me like I was an idiot. ‘A minute,’ he replied. ‘Just like Callum said.’

  ‘What – exactly a minute?’ I said with a slight laugh.

  ‘Exactly,’ Arnold confirmed. ‘I timed it on my watch.’

  ‘I see,’ I paused for a moment then said, ‘Do you think maybe it’s possible he meant he’d be back in minute or so? Like in a few minutes?’

  Arnold shook his head. ‘No, he was very specific. He definitely said he’d be back in a minute.’

  I was about to suggest we go and find Callum and clear up the misunderstanding. But then I caught a glimpse of Callum lurking behind the science block at the far side of the playground. He was laughing at me and making the loser sign with his thumb and forefinger on his forehead. I wasn’t sure if he meant Arnold was a loser or I was a loser for sitting with him but either way I realised he had intended to ditch Arnold all along.

  ‘Don’t worry about Callum anyway,’ I said.

  ‘Why would I be worried?’

  ‘I just meant don’t let him get to you. He can be a real idiot sometimes.’

  ‘It’s OK. Everybody leaves me sooner or later anyway.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said.

  Arnold shrugged. ‘I’m a bit odd. I know that. That’s why I have to change schools all the time. It doesn’t usually take long for the head teacher to decide I’m a disruptive influence or I don’t fit in. Kids are the same – they find me just a bit too awkward to deal with. Everyone gets tired of me and realises things are simpler when I’m not around sooner or later. Usually sooner.’

  I turned and looked at Arnold. His face displayed no emotion, as if years of rejection had left him immune to its pain.

  ‘I won’t,’ I said.

  Under his breath – not in a needy way but as if it was an actual fact – Arnold said, ‘You will. Everyone does.’

  We watched the mass of kids in the playground for a while. Then Arnold said, ‘Why did that teacher tell you off?’

  ‘I’m not allowed to play contact sports at school,’ I said. ‘My mum thinks they’re dangerous.’

  ‘Kicking a ball can’t be that dangerous?’

  ‘Tell my mum that,’ I laughed. ‘She’d make me wear a crash helmet to brush my teeth if she had her way.’

  ‘How come?’ Arnold asked, raising his voice above the sound of the bell signalling the end of lunch break.

  ‘Because she thinks the bathroom is such a hazardous environment,’ I said with mock gravity. ‘I might easily have some allergic reaction to the peppermint in the toothpaste. I might faint and, as I collapse, I could easily fall backwards and crack my head on the corner of the bath. You know – the sort of fatal tooth-brushing accident that happens every day. My mum thinks it’s such a dangerous activity it’s a wonder the government doesn’t introduce compulsory safety regulations for it. Like the rules for wearing seatbelts in a car. According to her, brushing your teeth is easily as dangerous as skydiving or lion taming.’

  I smiled at Arnold – expecting him to play along with making fun of my mum’s overprotective attitude. Or at least to get it. But he just frowned and said, ‘I don’t think brushing your teeth is dangerous.’

  We both got up and started walking towards the school building. I felt awkward that he thought I was being serious about my mum thinking brushing your teeth was an extreme sport. (She is super overprotective, but she’s not crazy.) I could have left it at that but I decided to show Arnold I’d been messing about by really going over the top.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I said with massively exaggerated surprise. ‘You’ve never stood in your bathroom and thought to yourself, I’m taking my life in my hands just being here? I’ll be lucky if I make it out of here alive? It’s a wonder they don’t make protective clothing mandatory for such a lethal environment?’

  Arnold shook his head. Now he was looking at me like I was completely crazy.

  ‘Well, maybe you could come round and explain your opinion to my mum, because she can’t run a tap without considering the potential disaster she’s flirting with.’

  ‘OK.’ Arnold nodded earnestly. ‘If you like.’

  Feeling relieved that he was finally joining in with my joke I said, ‘Why don’t you come home with me tonight? In fact, you could stay for the weekend and provide a balanced viewpoint on a whole range of safety issues. My mum won’t even listen to me when I tell her that it’s safe to climb the stairs without ropes and crampons. But she might listen to you.’

  ‘OK,’ he said.

  ‘Great. You could be a sort of guest risk assessor.’

  ‘I could totally do that,’ Arnold said, smiling broadly. ‘Any time she thinks something is dangerous I’ll tell her what I think.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I laughed. ‘That’s a deal.’

  Then we went back into the classroom. As I got my books out for double maths I was smiling to myself about the joke Arnold and I had shared.

  I didn’t hang around after school. I didn’t want to speak to Ash and Tom because they’d be talking about the rugby match and I didn’t want to get involved. It wasn’t that I resented their excitement but I missed that feeling just before a match. That nervous anticipation. The team spirit – like one big family. It was easier for me just to stay away and pretend it wasn’t happening.

  So, when the bell went and Mr Rooney dismissed us, I was first out of my chair.

  ‘In a hurry, Leon?’ he said, as I bustled past him, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I said without breaking stride. Then I was through the door and running down the corridor towards the exit.

  The sky was grey. Fat clouds hung low like sagging sheets on a washing line. I tried not to think about the rugby, but I couldn’t help it and the more I thought about it the more it felt like my mood was sagging too. I just wished everything could be back
to how it used to be. If this semifinal had been a year ago, right now Lenny and I would be in the changing room, looking forward to thrashing the opposition. He’d be going around encouraging each player individually. When he’d get to me he’d just smile and say, ‘Do your stuff, Leon,’ and I’d reply, ‘Same to you, Lenny.’ When we used to run out onto the pitch it was like we could take on the whole world together – like nothing could stop us.

  But things would never be like that again. Instead of taking on the world with my brother – my best friend – I was dawdling home on my own.

  I took a detour through a park. It was pretty deserted but halfway across I got this strange feeling that someone was following me. I knew it was ridiculous but once I’d got the idea in my head I couldn’t get rid of it. Eventually, just to prove to myself I was imagining it, I spun round. I knew no one would be there. Which is why I almost jumped out my skin when I saw Arnold, about five yards behind me.

  ‘Are you following me?’ I asked, which I realised was a pointless question. If he had been following me there was no way he was going to admit it so his answer was going to be ‘No’ either way.

  ‘Yes,’ Arnold said.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You left class pretty quickly.’

  I nodded. Arnold and I held each other’s stare in what became an uncomfortably long silence. Eventually I cracked. ‘So, was there something you wanted?’

  Arnold shook his head.

  ‘Why are you following me then?’

  ‘How else am I supposed to find your house?’

  ‘My house?’

  ‘Yeah – the place where you live.’

  ‘I know what my house is,’ I said impatiently. ‘But why are you bothered about knowing where I live?’

  Arnold blinked. ‘Because I’m coming to stay for the weekend.’

  This really made me laugh. Not only had Arnold remembered our silly conversation at lunchtime, he’d made the effort to follow me halfway home just to continue the joke. I was still laughing when Arnold said, ‘What’s so funny?’