A Raucous Time Page 6

  Chapter Five

   

  It took a second or two to realise it was his mobile and not the alarm going off. Christ! – he’d fallen asleep on the sofa, still wearing filthy trackies. He’d be late for school. Rhyllann rolled onto his stomach, sweeping the floor with his hand. Snatching the phone up, he answered without checking the caller’s name, an optimistic totally unrealistic part of his mind telling him it could be Becky, somehow having got hold of his number.

  ‘Wha?….’

  ‘Rhyllann? Rhyllann Jones?’

  A deep gravely voice enquired, rather than the bright tones he’d hoped to hear, and Rhyllann's heart sank: Crombie!

  For a second Rhyllann trod water, trying to remember the story he’d come up with. Working some spit into his mouth he brushed hair back from his forehead, wondering why his throat hurt.

  ‘Hey yeah. Me.’

  ‘Rhyllann, it's Crombie– are you ok?’

  ‘Yeah. Hi Mr – DI … erm … Detective Crombie. Yeah fine. Never better.’ He slurred, playing for time.

  ‘Son – I’m calling to speak with your mother – is she there?’

  Rhyllann sat up, shrugging off the duvet, rubbing at the crick in the back of his neck.

  ‘Erm no, sorry.’ The words echoed around the room, emphasising the emptiness of the house. Should he say she was at the hospital? On the train?

  ‘I spoke to her last night; she’s asked a neighbour to pop round. She’s getting the very next train – but –’ Rhyllann thought quickly. ‘She’s gotta book twenty-four hours in advance for a supersaver ticket or such like. Else it costs an extra two hundred pounds or something.’ He gabbled, hoping Crombie didn’t hear the lies. But Crombie was talking to someone else, and when he spoke to Rhyllann again, he sounded distracted.

  ’Ok son, get her to call me on this number a sap. We’ve a firm connection now to that other more serious incident and your Gran’s intruders. I really need to discuss it with her. And Rhyllann – I’d be a lot happier if you stayed at home today.’ Crombie hung up abruptly.

   

  Rhyllann snorted as he lurched to the kitchen to hunt out breakfast, mentally listing the mountain of tasks in front of him today. As if he was going to take notice of Crombie, ordering him around like some troublesome little boy. Crombie’s “serious incident” was obviously a ruse to get hold of mum. Then with a sinking feeling he remembered he still had to tell Wren about his mum, Aunt Sarah. I’ll get one of the nurses to do it. It’ll be better coming from a professional anyway, Rhyllann decided as he walked to the hospital.

   

  First though, he visited gran. She shared a room with two other elderly ladies. Screens swathed in a lilac silky material provided a degree of privacy, the beds looked clean and comfortable. Taking a seat, Rhyllann curled her hand in his. It looked tiny, parchment white peppered with brown spots. Years ago he’d tumbled into a nettle bed. Gran plunged straight after him, yanking him upwards and out of reach of their wicked stings, without flinching. He sighed heavily, stooped to kiss her cheek and after checking no nurses hovered with awkward questions pelted down the stairs towards the paediatric department.

   

  He found Wren stomping up and down the children’s ward on crutches, his boot encased leg stuck out in front of him. Catching sight of Rhyllann, he waved wildly.

  ‘Annie – look at me.’

  He burst into a chorus of "Jake the Peg", bouncing on the crutches. Rhyllann cringed; if Wren weren’t his cousin he would beat the crap out of him. A few of the other kids giggled, and the nurses clapped. Wren dipped his head theatrically, then swept his blond hair back from his forehead, and surveyed the room with bright blue eyes that shone with laughter.

  Dumpy little nurse Rita said: ‘You’re certainly much brighter!’

  Wren bowed again. ‘Can I go home now?’ He asked, adding: ‘I can stay round my aunt’s house.’ When the nurse hesitated, he appealed to Rhyllann.

  ‘Annie – I can stay round your house can’t I? Aunt ‘Tricia won’t mind looking after me will she?’

  Caught off guard, Rhyllann mumbled. ‘Yeah – course – no problem.’  

  ‘That’s settled then.’ Wren said with a huge grin, allowing Rita to help him back to a room just large enough to contain a single bed and cabinet. The ceiling remained the same height as the main ward, creating a disproportionate shrinking sensation. Rhyllann gritted his teeth. Once they were alone, he turned on Wren.

  ‘What the hell are you up to? You know very well …’

  Wren punched him. Hard.

  ‘I’ve got to get out of here. How long d’you think it’ll be before those men come looking for me?’

  Rhyllann studied him intently, and knew. ‘They’ve been here haven’t they? You’ve seen them again. Who are those guys? What do they want?’

  Wren crossed his arms and glared. ‘Are you going to help me, or am I going to tell Social Services about your mum?’

  ‘You little toerag! You wouldn’t!’

  The mutinous look crumpled into one of exhaustion, Wren climbed onto the bed.

  ‘I’m sorry. Sorry Annie. Of course I wouldn’t. ‘

  Pretending not to notice the tears, Rhyllann perched next to him.

  ‘Brawd, you know my mum ain’t here. I can’t get hold of her. I can’t even leave a message. The doctors aren’t gonna let me discharge you.’ Even though they were alone, Rhyllann spoke softly, in Welsh.

  Wren gripped his arm, eyes glistening with mischief this time.

  ‘What we need is a woman to wheel me out.’

  Rhyllann laughed. ‘Yeah right. Who shall we ask? Who shall we get to be "Mummy"?’

  He didn’t like the way Wren continued to smile at him, ducking his head to peer from under his fringe. Rhyllann shook his head.

  ‘Oh no – no way! We’ll never get away with it! Ow! Leggo!’ He yelped; as Wren grabbed his hair, twisting it into a pony tail.

  ‘Awwh – c’mon Annie! Where’s your sense of adventure?’ he giggled. ‘You know you’ve got the legs for it!’ Rhyllann slapped him away, drawing back.

  ‘Get lost!’

  Wren giggled again, then sobered. ‘Their busiest time is just after lunch, come then. All you need is a flowery top, jeans’ll be ok, maybe with a sparkly belt.’ He broke off, thinking.

  ‘Scarf. Wear a scarf round your neck. Some make up. Oh and carry a newspaper, "Daily Mail" – or a woman’s magazine.’

  Rhyllann stared. ‘You’ve given this some thought haven’t you?’

  Wren nodded happily. ‘Don’t forget to bring some clothes for me.’ He said closing his eyes.

   

  Rhyllann thought about putting a pillow over Wren's head. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. All his mates had normal families, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins. He had Wren, Mum, Aunt Sarah and Gran. He didn’t count David, his step-father. No-one counted David though he supposed mum must see something in him.

  He almost envied Wren, snoring softly now. Okay, so he’d never known his real dad either, but at least he didn’t have to put up with an interloper.

  Rhyllann decided he might as well go home, and ring the school secretary with some half cooked excuse. With a shock he realised tomorrow was Friday, he’d been off school nearly all week. He really needed to get his life back on track. Rhyllann was almost out the room when he heard Wren crying.

  ’I’m sorry gran, so sorry.’ Sighing, Rhyllann turned back and shook him awake.

  ‘You’re dreaming brawd, don’t worry, Gran’s gonna be fine.’

  Wren tried, then suddenly gave a genuine smile.

  ‘Annie – I’ve just thought – d’you think they’ll let my mum out to visit Gran?’ Hopefulness entered his voice.

  ‘Maybe.’ Rhyllann muttered, remembering he still had to brief one of the nurses.

  ‘Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Night "Auntie".’ Wren whispered, and clo
sed his eyes again, his blond hair framing an angelic looking face.

  Christ. He really should put a pillow over his head.