Tim

Tim

Tim was small, the shortest member in his year group. On the first day
of secondary school he was noticeably different. Other pupils were
obviously new, wearing blazers that they would grow into and pristine
shirts. Tim's blazer was however too small. There were stains from
previous occupants meals on the front. One cuff was frayed but the
shiny, triangular marks proved that there had been some attempt at
ironing. The shirt already had a slightly grey tinge. There was a gap
between his bobbled socks and felted trousers, even when he was
standing.

His parents had bought only one piece of new school clothing so as an
economy, bought them two sizes too large so that he could grow into
them. Two pairs of his father's socks were stuffed into the toe of each
shoe in an attempt to stop his feet from sliding into empty spaces.
Although inventive, they failed to secure his feet. Tim developed a
distinctive gate, his feet appearing far too large for his diminutive
body. He slopped his way down the corridors.

Surprisingly, he was a popular member of his tutor group; his
innocence, obvious learning difficulties and speech impediment were so
severe that they endeared him to the group. His problems appealed to
the girls' maternal feelings and the kinder side of the protective,
male nature. He was the class mascot, protected and preserved in their
care. He was grateful for the attention in a way a two year old usually
crave, but he didn't throw tantrums. His vulnerability was his
armour.

Tim's family cared for each other in a way accepted by the village.
They were close,
their love for each other was almost tangible.

At the first information evening at secondary school, his parents
expressed their pleasure that Tim had begun to read and could even
write his address. He had, his mother said left them a note saying he
would be late home. This she described as "fampastic", their delight in
his progress was as obvious as was their naivety and lack of academic
prowess.

Tim's mother had dressed in her best jacket, out of respect for the
school and to be "a credit" to her son, the father had found a tie and
a frayed shirt, which had been carefully laundered. As his father
explained, "They didn't have a lot, but family was more important than
having things."

Tim's next two years were uneventful but happy. His school reports
talked of slow, but steady progress and of his gentle nature.