Money for the Circus 13

Marcus uses Gran's phone to call the police. Dalmations. 101, ha ha. He doesn't want blue lights and sirens. No point, although it would have been fun to look down at all the people running out of the flats and dispersing like a bag full of dropped marbles. The operator on the other end of the phone asks Marcus the usual questions. How old is he? 14. Luckily, Marcus's voice started breaking bang on time, a few months ago. No growth spurts, though. How long has Gran been gone? Marcus says he doesn't know, he's been out all day. Just got in, in fact. No. Gran has gone off before. 'OK' The Dispatcher says, adding they'll try and send someone round to check he's "safe". 
Marcus is amazed, when someone  actually turns up, at half-eleven, barely an hour later. A PCSO, Marcus is sure he's only ever seen them in pairs before. And not around the flats at all. PCSO Arkwright looks Marcus up and down and asks him if his brother is in. He tells her that he is Marcus, and he's just small for his age.  He hands over the birth certificate. 'Look, 'I'm 14.' – but it comes out as a high pitched squeak. The PCSO looks at the faded paper doubtfully. 'Are you? Are you really?' she says. 
Marcus says of course he is and asks who else would he be? PCSO Arkwright radios in a report to someone or other back at the station. Amid the crackle of static and whistling sounds, whoever it is decides Arkwright is to stay with Marcus until someone from the Social gets there, or Gran comes home, whichever comes first. 

Last time the social sent Cassandra. But that was during the day, it'll be someone on call at this time. Maybe they'll read the case file, which is more than Cassandra did. 
PCSO Arkwright offers to make tea, but Marcus says he'll do it, snagging a can of Monster from the fridge, while he gets the milk out. After the tea's made, Marcus asks the PCSO how long she's been in the job. She says, 'a whole fortnight' and thanks him for the nice cup of tea, although her face tells a different story. 

Marcus tells PCSO Arkwright she can't have a biscuit because it might be evidence, but she just laughs. The Social Worker arrives within five minutes of PCSO Arkwright running out of things to say. It is Cassandra. Marcus hopes she won't mention anything in his file – about Mr Glanville, or any of that stuff – otherwise the PCSO will never leave. They go outside and stand on the walkway connecting the row of flats Marcus lives in. They move a few flats away and talk in whispers. The door they're standing in front of opens and someone throws the contents of a bucket outward. It might be water. If it's not Marcus will politely ask them to wait outside. PCSO Arkwright walks away. Cassandra makes for Marcus standing in the doorway of Gran's flat. His maybe, now. How will that work? It won't, if Cassandra has anything to do with it, for sure. 

Cassandra looks Marcus up and down. 'I believe you've grown an inch or two.' Marcus knows she's talking bollocks. When you're undersized with no medical cause whatever, you measure yourself every single day. There's a mark on the kitchen doorway that hasn't changed in almost 10 years. Marcus knows all the names for people who do have a medical diagnosis, especially the cruel ones. Accuracy is not often prized in the schoolyard. He doesn't feel sorry for George, who lives in one of the flats two more floors up. He does have a diagnosis. At least he knows the why. He says he's an answer to an old riddle. He explained that one to Marcus long ago. 

'Aren't you going to let me in, then?' 
Marcus doesn't smell anything untoward, so he does. 

He doesn't offer Cassandra tea. She asks if there's anyone who can come and stay with him. She knows the answer is no, so Marcus just shrugs. Cassandra gets a tablet out of her messenger bag and powers it up. 
'I'm not going into care.' 

Cassandra says she'll try to find him a foster home. 
'I won't go' he says, but he knows there's no point. 
Then the doorbell rings. Maybe Gran has lost her key. 

Cassandra pushes Marcus aside and opens the door. 

Marcus almost doesn't recognise him. It's the Prof. He's wearing a pinstripe trousers, a black jacket and waistcoat, winged collar and a bowler hat. He looks like the dad in that stupid film about the Nanny that can fly. Cassandra turns away to look at Marcus. The Prof takes the opportunity to wink at Marcus, before he says 'Professor David Tomblinson at your service. I'm Marcus's uncle on the maternal side, pleased to meet you both.'