Tom All Alone 14 (iv)

At half-past ten, the bell rang for playtime and they all went out into the main playground. It was a large rectangular area at the back of the school, enclosed by high walls with wire-netting fences running along the top. Halfway down, three tall plane trees divided the area into two square shapes. Beyond the trees, Tom could see some of the older boys playing football, kicking the ball against a white goal painted on the back wall. Most of the other children were in the area on the school side of the trees, and were scattered around in small clusters. A few girls were playing games with rubber balls, or skipping with ropes. Some boys were playing a chase game like 'He' that Tom played with the other kids in the street, except they were sticking to the white and yellow lines that had been painted on the ground - straight lines along the sides and going across, and some curving lines, like on a football pitch. Some children were just standing talking. All of them, though, seemed to be with someone else - either in twos or groups of different sizes. It seemed to Tom like they all knew one another. On the left side of the playground, halfway along towards the trees, the man teacher was standing beside the flagpole where they had all lined up first thing. He was wearing an overcoat and had black hair and glasses. He had a cup of tea in his hand and sipped from it now and then as he watched over everyone playing.

Tom stood at the corner closest to the school wall, watching the different things people were doing, looking to see if there was anyone else like himself - alone, not doing anything. He looked for the children who were on his table, but didn't recognise anyone - or if he did, they were already with someone else. Then he saw one boy standing in the opposite corner. Tom had seen him in class, sitting at the table in the middle. He'd noticed him especially because he was black - the only black child in the whole class. There were a couple of brown children, like Roshina. Mostly, though, the other children were white, the same as Tom.

As Tom looked, the boy turned to him quickly, then looked away again. Tom walked slowly towards him, and he turned again. This time he gave a shy smile.

"Hello," he said, quietly.

"What's your name?" Tom asked.

"Desmond," the boy said. He had a round face and goofy front teeth with a gap. He was wearing glasses with thick black frames. The lenses were so thick that his eyes looked like tiny brown buttons behind them. "What's your name?"

"Tom. I'm in the same class as you. I saw you."

"I saw you as well," Desmond said.

They continued looking at the others playing.

"Have you got any friends in the school?" Desmond asked.

"No. They've all gone to other schools. I don't know anyone."

"I don't know anyone, either."

A tennis ball came bouncing towards them and Desmond put out his hand to bat it back. A girl who'd been coming to get it caught it, sneered at them both, then ran back to her game.

"Whereabouts do you live, Desmond?" Tom asked.

"Chelverton Road."

Toms ears pricked up.

"That's where the bus garage is."

"That's right. We live near there."

"My dad works at the bus garage."

Desmond's eyes widened behind his glasses. "Does he?"

"He's a bus driver," Tom said, proudly. "He used to drive lorries, too."

"My dad works in a factory," said Desmond, "where they make things."

"What things do they make?"

"Things for car engines, I think. I don't know, really."

Tom twisted the toe of his shoe into the ground. His shoes felt loose where Miss Newman had pulled the laces, and his heel kept slipping out. He saw that Desmond was wearing slide-on shoes, with elastic instead of laces.

"Where's your dad's factory?"

"In Wandsworth," said Desmond. "He has to get a bus to work. He might get on your dad's bus."

"What's your dad's name?"

"Ron. What's yours?"

"Dan. I've got an uncle Ron who lives in Wandsworth."

"Have you?"

"Yes."

They were warming to each other.

"Where do you live?" Desmond asked.

"In Weiss Road," Tom said, pointing. "It's just across the road from the school."

"Is that the road with the shop on the corner?"

"Yes. My mum used to work in that shop."

"Did she?"

"She works in a pub now. The Coat and Badge. She does the cleaning there. What does your mum do?"

"She looks after my little sister. She's only a baby."

"What's her name?"

"Pearline."

Tom had never heard that name before.

"Do you come from Africa, Desmond?"

"No. England."

"Only my brother said that black people come from Africa."

"My dad comes from Jamaica."

"Is that in Africa?"

"I don't think so," said Desmond. "It's a long way away, right across the sea. My gran and grandad still live there."

"Do they? Have you ever seen them?"

"No. I've seen their photographs, though."

"My gran lives downstairs at home."

"Does she? You're lucky."

"I go down and play cards with her sometimes," said Tom.

"My mum and dad play cards."

"And mine do. We play cards when we go on holiday."

"Where do you go on holiday?"

"We went to Cornwall and stayed in a caravan."

"We go to Clacton."

"Where's that?"

"I don't know. A long way."

"Is it good there?"

"Yeah. We go on the beach all day. I like it on the beach."

"And I do."

They kicked the dust at their feet.

"Have you got any brothers and sisters, Tom?"

"I've got a brother called Russell. He's older than me. He goes to the big school over the bridge in Fulham. He used to come to this school before he went there."

"Did he? Did he like it?"

"I think so. He told me he liked it. Do you like it?"

"Not really."

"I don't really, either."

"Do you like Miss Newman?"

Tom looked at his shoes.

"I don't know. She told me off 'cos I couldn't undo my laces."

Desmond sniffed. "Do you think we'll get used to it?" 

"I expect so. That's what my mum always says."

Tom thought about her now, doing her cleaning at the pub. He longed to be there with her. He longed for that freedom he no longer had.

"My mum's taking my little sister shopping today. I used to like going with them to the shops."

"So did I," Tom said. "We used to go to the Co-op."

Desmond gave a toothy grin. "We go to the Co-op, too."

"Does your mum get the blue stamps?"

"Yes, she does. And I help her to stick them in."

"I do, too."

"Do you know why they get the stamps?"

"I think they save them up for things. My mum got a new iron with hers."

"My mum does that with the green stamps she gets."

"My mum gets green stamps, too. And my nan. She calls them Green Shields."

"That's right. Green Shields."

Tom was starting to feel less anxious now for the first time. The stone in his stomach was getting lighter.

"My mum saves coupons from her cigarettes, too," he said.

"My mum doesn't smoke cigarettes. But my dad does."

"What cigarettes does he smoke?"

"White ones with a cork on the end."

"What make are they?"

"I don't know. I'll have to arks him."

"My dad smokes Capstans and my mum smokes twenty Kensitas Tipped. I know that because that's what she says when she buys them. 'Twenty Kensitas Tipped, please', she says."

Desmond giggled at the voice Tom put on.

"Why do people smoke?" Desmond asked.

"My mum says it makes them feel better."

"I don't like it. The smoke makes my eyes sting. And it smells."

"I don't like them, either," said Tom. "I think they're smelly, too."

"Like cheesy feet," said Desmond. "My dad's got cheesy feet."

They both laughed.

"My brother has, too. And he smells when he blows off."

Desmond screeched with laughter.

"Does your brother blow off a lot?"

"Yes. He blows off in my bed sometimes, and it smells like oxtail soup."

They both screeched at that.

Then Desmond said "My dad blows off when he goes to the toilet. It sounds like this."

He put his mouth to the back of his hand and blew, bending over at the same time. The fart sound was loud. Tom was helpless with laughter. Desmond did it again.

Then they both stopped as the bell suddenly clanged. They turned and looked across the playground and saw the teacher ringing it, raising the bell up to his shoulder and bringing it down. The other teachers had come out now, too, and stood in a line down the side.

"Line up in pairs, in your classes," the teacher shouted. "And stop talking."

The children started to swarm together and find their lines. Tom and Desmond walked over and joined the back of their class line.

"Come on, everyone," the man teacher called out. "Get in line quickly. It shouldn't take this long."

Finally, everyone seemed to be in their lines and settled. It was quiet apart from a few scattered whispers and giggles. Then they stopped as well.

"Alright," the teacher said. "Go back in one line at a time."

Miss Newman was first. She walked off towards the archway that led back to the classrooms, and the class followed her.

 

When they got back to the classroom, the milk trolley was there with cartons of milk for everyone.

"Drink your milk quietly, please," Miss Newman said. "When you've finished, come up and put your empty carton back on the trolley."

They sat and drank their milk, using the little straws attached to the cartons. It was very cold and made Tom's teeth tingle. But it was nice and creamy.

Soon the slurping noises started as the cartons emptied and everyone sucked bubbles. A few giggled at the noise. Tom could see Desmond looking at him and laughing. Tom thought about their jokes in the playground about blowing off.

After milk, it was games time. Miss Newman began taking the things down from the shelves and laying them on the middle table.

"Everyone come up and choose something they want to play, and then find someone they want to play with."

Tom went over behind the others and Desmond came and joined him.

"Can I play a game with you?" he said.

"Yes. What shall we do?"

"I don't know. I don't know any games, really."

They looked to see what there was. There were jigsaw puzzles, and snakes and ladders, and tiddley-winks. There were some little wooden figures, like skittles, but with painted-on faces and clothes. There was a castle with lots of plastic soldiers with swords and shields. They were being taken very quickly. Then Tom saw some blocks of Plasticine - one of his favourite things.

"I like Plasticine, too," said Desmond.

They picked up a block each.

"You can sit wherever you want to with your partners," Miss Newman called out.

There were only a couple of others at Tom's table, so they went back there.

"What shall we make?" Desmond asked.

"I like making people. Shall we make some people?"

They set to, tearing off small chunks and rolling them to make the bodies and heads - Desmond mainly watching and copying Tom. They rolled thinner pieces to make arms and legs. Then they used their fingernails to mark eyes and noses and smiling mouths. When they had finished, they stood them up on the desk top. Tom had done a red one and Desmond had done a yellow one.

"I like doing this," Desmond said, as they started making new ones.

"So do I," said Tom. "I've got loads of Plasticine at home."

"And I have."

"What other toys have you got?"

"I've got some cars and a train set. And I've got some Lego."

"I've got Lego, too. I like Lego."

"So do I. And I've got an Action Man as well."

Tom's mouth dropped open.

"Wow! You're lucky. I want an Action Man. I saw it on the telly."

"'Action Man... is heeere!'" Bobby sang, and they both laughed.

Miss Newman suddenly loomed over them.

"You two sound happy," she said, smiling.

Tom was instantly shy and put his hands over what he was doing, like he was trying to hide something. She looked at the figures.

"They're nice," she said. "Well done."

Desmond and Tom looked at one another.

"Are they friends?" she asked.

"Yes, miss," Desmond said, shyly.

"They've both got big smiles, haven't they," she said. "They must be very happy."

Tom still couldn't look at her. He could smell something, though. Some perfume she was wearing. It was a bit like the perfume mum wore. He thought he could smell peppermint, too, when she spoke.

She stood up again at last.

"And are you two friends as well?"

They looked at one another again.

"Yes, miss," said Desmond.

"Good," she said. "I'm glad. Carry on now. See if you can make something else."

Then she went off to see what some others were doing.

(continued) https://www.abctales.com/story/harryc/tom-all-alone-14-v