Page 41 of Don't Tell Teacher

‘I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.’ The nurse leans forward, smiling at Tom. ‘Hello, young man. What’s your name?’

‘Tom,’ he answers dutifully.

‘So you had a nosebleed, Tom?’ she asks. ‘Is that right? It must be quite a scary thing to happen at your age. All that blood.’

‘A bit,’ says Tom, eyes welling with tears.

I put my arms around him, pulling him onto my lap. ‘It’s okay, Tom. You don’t need to get upset. Unless … is there anything else you want to talk about?’

Tom gives a brisk shake of his head.

‘Well, I’ll just give him a little once-over,’ says the nurse, fingers racing around her keyboard, ‘and then send you on your way. Tom seems fine in himself, and if he hasn’t had a bleed in the last few hours … well, you were right to bring him in, anyway. Better safe than sorry.’

I like the ones who say ‘better safe than sorry’.

The nurse holds up a blood-pressure cuff. ‘Okay, Tom. So, you’ve probably seen one of these before.’

‘Yes,’ says Tom.

‘He had his blood pressure taken in hospital,’ I say. ‘When he had the seizure.’

‘I like it done on my left arm,’ says Tom robotically.

The nurse nods, not really listening, and lifts Tom’s right arm.

She rolls soft cotton up to Tom’s elbow, then hesitates.

We both stare.

I hear myself gasp.

Three tiny, bloody holes mark the inside of Tom’s forearm, two of them circled with grey bruises.

Each one sits perfectly above a wavy green vein.

The room becomes eerily still.

‘Has he had blood taken in the last few days?’ the nurse asks, her voice cautious.

‘No. Oh myGod.’ I put a hand to my mouth. For a moment, I think I’m going to be sick. But after a few thick swallows, I manage to say, ‘Tom. There are marks here. How did you get them?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Tom, eyes wide and frightened.

‘Are you his primary carer?’ the nurse asks.

‘Yes.’ I nod my head. ‘Tom. How on earth did you get those marks?’

Tom shakes his head, tears coming. ‘I don’tknow.’

I turn to the nurse. ‘His school. It’s the only place he’s away from me … There was an incident today. A fight.’

‘Tom,’ says the nurse, words falsely bright. ‘Can you tell me where you got these little marks?’

She glances at me then, an appraising glance she didn’t have time to make when I first came into the office.

I feel exposed, wishing I’d worn something smarter. Put on a bit of makeup.

‘I don’t know what they are,’ says Tom.

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