Page 128 of Don't Tell Teacher

Tom blinks, eyes darting around. ‘I wanted it to be you. You’re Pauly’s social worker too, aren’t you? You got him fish and chips.’

I smile. ‘I don’t make a habit of that. Just a one-off. How are you feeling?’

‘Not very well.’

‘Do you remember having a seizure?’

Tom shakes his head.

‘Where’s your mum?’

‘She went home to get clothes and stuff.’

‘Listen, the doctor says these seizures are a little unusual. They can’t quite get to the bottom of them. And then there are the injuries.’ I sit on the chair.

Tom fiddles with his blanket.

‘You can tell me anything, you know. Even things you can’t tell your mum. I’m here to keep you safe.’

Tom nods his head tightly.

‘Tell you what.’ I pull a notepad from my bag. ‘If you don’t want to say it out loud, is there anything you’d like to write down? Would that be easier? Who is hurting you, Tom?’

Tom takes the pad. For a moment, I think he’s just going to hold it. But then he scribbles something, rips the paper free and folds it immediately, then hands it to me.

‘Can I—’

‘Don’t read it now,’ Tom whispers.

‘Okay.’ I shift awkwardly in the chair. ‘Well, can I read it later? In my car?’

Tom nods.

The little girl, Charlotte, calls through the curtain: ‘Can’t you sleep, Tom? I can’t sleep.’

‘Just try and think of something happy,’ I call back. ‘Like riding a pony on the beach. Or walking in the woods.’

‘I’ll think of My Little Pony,’ the girl decides loudly. ‘I like Majesty best. Oh! Tom. I think I can hear your mummy.Lucky. Your mummy is so nice.’

Charlotte’s right – there are female voices. Lizzie, I think, talking to a nurse.

‘Mum’s coming,’ Tom whispers. ‘You can’t tell her.’

Closing my hand around the paper, I say, ‘I’ll read it later. Okay? Somewhere private.’

We hear footsteps and then the curtain slides back.

I see Lizzie, her short, platinum hair glowing white under the neon light. She is smiling and has books and toys under one arm.

‘Hey, Tommo. Oh, Kate.’ Lizzie notices me and jolts in shock.

‘I was just saying a quick hello,’ I explain. ‘Seeing how Tom was feeling.’

‘He’s tired,’ Lizzie says, stroking Tom’s hair. ‘But he’s awake – that’s the main thing. Kate, I’m glad you came. I wanted to thank you. For being so fair at the meeting. They were trying to paint a picture. I know that. And I know you were trying to be even-handed. To see both sides.’

‘It was hard on you.’

Lizzie gives a humourless laugh. ‘I was terrified. I still am. I know how things look. No one believes me … the school … no one believes me.’

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