Tom All Alone 18 (ii)

They sat down to dinner that night in Auntie Pat and Uncle George's kitchen. It was brighter than their kitchen at home. They had the long tube lights, like in the assembly hall at school, and they made a funny buzzing noise that Tom didn't like. The light seemed strange - making everyone's faces look yellow. They had lots of things that mum and dad didn't have. They had a special kettle that plugged in instead of one that went on the gas ring. They had lots more cupboards, too, and a metal sink with shiny taps. They had a big fridge, which looked brand new. Tom thought they must be a lot richer than mum and dad were.

They had sausages, eggs, baked beans and chips for dinner. Tom sat alone at one end of the table, with Uncle George and Auntie Pat on his right and Keith and Brendan on his left. Uncle George still had his blue work overalls on. He'd been smoking one of his cigarettes, but stubbed it out in an ashtray when the plates came, putting what was left of it behind his ear. Keith grabbed the tomato sauce and tipped it over his plate, giving the bottom of the bottle a slap with the palm of his hand. A big dollop of sauce went over his chips.

"KEITH!" Auntie Pat boomed. "What have I told you about being greedy?"

He put the bottle down.

"Sorry, mum."

"And you're not the only one here. You ask other people first, don't just help yourself."

His face dropped.

"You listening to your mother, Keith?" Uncle George said, quietly.

"Yes, dad."

"So you'd better," Auntie Pat said. "You've got your cousin here, too. Just behave yourself. We won't have none of your showing off."

Auntie Pat leaned across with a spoon and scooped some of the sauce from Keith's chips, putting it on her own plate. They all helped themselves to everything else. Uncle George put lots of vinegar and salt on his chips, and sauce all over everything. Brendan just sat holding his knife and fork, waiting.

"You want anything, Bren?" Uncle George said to him.

"Yes, dad."

"Yes what?"

"Please, dad."

"Go on, then," Auntie Pat said. "You're old enough. We ain't your servants."

They started eating. Tom cut and ate a piece of sausage. Auntie Pat and Uncle George watched every move. They ate in silence - just the scrape of the cutlery on the plates, Brendan's occasional sniffs, Uncle George's budgies chirping in the living room. They cut their food, put it in their mouths, chewed it, swallowed it - all the while not taking their eyes off Tom. He didn't like being watched when he ate. It was like they were waiting for him to do something wrong.

Auntie Pat stopped at one point and put her hands against the edge of the table - knife in one hand, fork in the other, sticking up, like Tom had seen Desperate Dan do in The Dandy when he'd been facing up to another cow pie for his dinner.

"Do you always eat like that?" she said to Tom.

He stopped and looked at her. Everyone else stopped too - staring at him harder now. He'd been making exaggerated gulps with his food because he was so nervous.

"No, Auntie Pat."

"Then why are you doing it now? Don't you like the food I cooked for you?"

"Yes, Auntie Pat."

"Then don't eat it like that or you'll be sick. We don't want you being sick, do we."

"No, Auntie Pat."

"Eat properly. Cut it up smaller if it's too big to swallow."

"Yes, Auntie Pat."

She sighed heavily and shook her head. Then she started eating again. They all did.

He cut his food much smaller and just took tiny mouthfuls at a time. Just a few baked beans. One chip. A morsel of sausage. Everyone else was almost finished and he still had a lot left on his plate.

They carried on watching him all the way through, putting their knives and forks down and waiting for him to finish before Auntie Pat collected up the plates and went to get their pudding. Tom was too full for pudding, but didn't like to say no. It was only jelly, anyway.

 

After dinner, Auntie Pat ran a bath for the boys. Brendan had his bath first quickly because he was the youngest. When he'd finished, Auntie Pat got Tom and Keith in the bath together. Tom had never been in a bath before and was amazed at all the bubbles - like the head on dad's glass when he poured some beer. He was nervous at first. But once he was in, he liked the feeling of the warmth all over his body.

"Ten minutes, you two, and don't make a mess," Auntie Pat said as she went out. "Then it's pajamas and bed."

Keith had a boat which he pushed through the bubbles, splashing over Tom when he did the turns. Tom picked up a handful of bubbles and put them on his head.

"We haven't got a bath," he said.

"Haven't you? How do you get clean, then?"

"Mum sits me on the draining board in the scullery and washes me in the sink."

Keith pulled a face. "Eurr! That's disgusting."

"Why is it?"

"'Cos the washing up goes in the sink."

"So?"

"All your dirt's going in the sink, all over the washing up."

"But mum takes the washing up out first."

"It's still disgusting. Sticking your smelly feet in the sink."

"My feet aren't smelly."

"I can smell them."

"No you can't."

Keith laid back a bit. "See if you can smell this."

There was a loud glugging sound under the water, and a big string of bubbles came up and broke the surface. Keith was laughing.

"What was that?" Tom said.

"Me. I just farted."

The smell hit Tom's nostrils then. It was worse than when Russell did it. He grabbed his nose.

"Euuuurrr!"

Keith started rocking to a fro then, bending his legs up and kicking out, making waves that slopped over Tom. Tom did the same back. Soon there was water slopping up over the rim of the bath and onto the floor.

Suddenly, Auntie Pat was in the room again - her face raging.

"What did I say, you two? Look at that bloody floor."

Tom hadn't heard her swear before. It scared him a bit.

"He started it," Keith said.

"No I didn't."

Auntie Pat grabbed Keith's arm and dragged him up.

"I don't care who started it, Keith. I've had enough of this with you."

She wrapped towels around them both as they got out. She rubbed them both down very roughly, scrubbing at Tom's hair until he could feel the heat of it. Then they got into their pajamas and brushed their teeth while she mopped up the water with their towels, cursing all the time under her breath.

"We'll have downstairs complaining if this leaks through. Bloody perishers."

When they were both ready, she led them through to the sitting room, where Uncle George was watching the telly. Brendan had already gone to bed.

"Kiss you dad and Uncle George goodnight."

They did so - Tom feeling the rough of his stubble against his cheek.

"'Night, boys. We'd better not hear no talking now."

Keith and Brendan shared a bedroom, like Tom and Russell did. Keith had the bigger bed, which Tom had to share. Auntie Pat had made it up with a pillow at each end, on opposite sides. When they got in, Keith's feet came up next to Tom's pillow, so he turned his head the other way.

Auntie Pat gave them both a kiss before she turned the light out.

"Remember what your dad said, Keith. No talking. Go to sleep."

In the darkness, Keith started wriggling his legs up and down.

"Stop it," Tom whispered. "Stay still."

Keith stopped, and it was quiet for a few moments.

Then Keith said, quietly. "What's the matter with Uncle Dan?"

Tom lifted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I heard Auntie Cath talking to my mum, and she said Uncle Dan was having problems."

"No he's not."

"That's what she said. That's why you're staying here."

"No it's not. You're lying."

"I'm not. I heard her say it. You can ask her if you don't believe me."

"Shut up, Keith," Brendan said suddenly, from the dark. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Shut up yourself, big ears," Keith hissed. "I weren't talking to you."

Then the door flew open and the light was on - blazing in their eyes. Auntie Pat was there, glaring down at them.

"What did I say to you boys?" she boomed. "Now, shut up and get to sleep. If I hear another peep, no football tomorrrow."

The light went off again and the door was slammed shut.

Tom lay awake for a while, half-expecting Keith to start up again. But he didn't. He thought about what Keith had said. He thought about the things that had been happening at home, with all the arguments, and dad's bad moods. Dad staying out sometimes, and mum crying. Was that what Keith meant? Was something wrong with dad? He began to feel anxious again - wondering about it, and being in this strange place away from home. He wanted to see his mum and talk to her, and it felt horrible that she wasn't there, and wouldn't be there in the morning either. Uncle George was going to take them to a football match. Keith was excited, but Tom didn't want to go. He wanted to be at home again. He wanted everything to be alright and as it used to be before. He thought about how it all seemed to have begun once he started going to school. He hated school now, too. He felt tears coming, and pressed his face into the pillow.

He laid awake for a long time - long after he could hear Keith's and Brendan's breathing as they slept.

(continued)