The Devil's in the Detail. Matthew S Wilson

nipple through his shirt and it had the desired effect. David opened his mouth to squeal in pain and as he did, O’Connor slid the shit-covered “Mars” bar into his mouth.

      ‘Thatta boy Shepherd. Now be a good lad and take a bite.’

      David looked at him wide eyed, unwilling to bite down into the chocolate.

      ‘Come on. You can do it.’

      O’Connor grinned, knowing that David’s lungs would be burning as they ran out of air. He kept inching the “Mars” bar further down the smaller boy’s throat, knowing that David would have to take a bite if he didn’t want to choke.

      Any second now. O’Connor grinned as he saw the look of resignation on David’s face. Here it comes.

      Suddenly David’s eyes rolled back and without further warning he collapsed onto the grimy tiles of the bathroom – the “Mars” bar falling out of his mouth as he fell. O’Connor watched the limp body topple over, simultaneously noticing that the tiles were smeared with blood.

      ‘Jesus.’

      He’d fucking killed him. He’d suffocated him and the little shit had cracked his head open on the tiles. He hunched down over him and checked his head. He couldn’t see any cuts or gashes. He checked the back of his head, half expecting to feel a gaping wound, but there was nothing. Yet blood kept seeping from underneath him. He flipped David’s body over and pulled his blazer off him, immediately seeing the source of the blood. The back of David’s white school shirt was soaked with blood. Surely he hadn’t caused all of that? The fall hadn’t been that hard. And he’d landed on his side anyway. He swallowed, wondering what to do. Seconds passed. He eventually started unbuttoning David’s shirt and opened it up.

      ‘Jesus.’

      As he peeled open the shirt, he noticed that David’s chest and stomach were covered in bruises and cuts. Some looked old, whilst others looked newer – sporting all of the colours of the rainbow. He rolled the limp body onto its tummy and peeled the shirt off.

      ‘Christ almighty.’

      No wonder the kid was bleeding. His back was covered in half a dozen fresh lashes which were still weeping blood. He leaned over just in time to vomit violently into the very bowl that he’d just held David’s head over only a moment ago. Michael O’Connor had wanted to kill David Shepherd that day, but it appeared that someone else had already tried. He crawled back over to the kid to see what he could do for him. As he did, the door opened.

      ‘Michael O’Connor!’

      It was Sister Accarelli. If O’Connor was the scariest guy in school then she was the scariest teacher. The sight of any other of the female teachers in the boy’s toilet would have otherwise been strange, but it was widely known that she enjoyed a fag in the boy’s toilets between her classes.

      ‘Go to the headmaster’s office now,’ she thundered.

      David briefly stirred, still groggy from the fall. He remembered seeing Michael leaving the bathroom and giving him a bizarre look of empathy. He remembered Accarelli’s rancid breath on his face as she slapped his cheek and asked if he was alright. He remembered the walk to the sick bay and the fact that Sister Mulligan had cried when she saw his back and bruises. And he remembered the hushed tone of Headmaster Chadwick. Snatches of words like “abuse” and “investigation”.

      He lay on the bed in the sick bay, his eyes focused on a shadow on the ceiling that resembled the profile of a woman’s face.

      Chadwick walked in.

      ‘David, how are you feeling?’

      This was the first time he’d ever spoken to the headmaster. Headmasters really only ever cared about those kids that were academically brilliant, or constantly in trouble. David was neither.

      ‘Fine, sir.’

      Chadwick sat at the edge of the bed.

      ‘Not a good start to the school year is it? I’ve spoken to your mother and she is terribly upset. She’s coming to take you home now.’

      He paused, biting his lip a moment.

      ‘Is that what you want, son?’

      David looked into his eyes and saw the message in them.

      ‘Yessir.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Why wouldn’t I be, sir?’

      The headmaster paused a moment, biting his bottom lip before cautiously continuing.

      ‘We noticed some bruises on your body.’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘And some lashes on your back.’

      David flushed with embarrassment. How had they seen those?

      ‘How did you get them, David?’

      He’d always been so careful covering up. Mum had always ensured he had. That’s why he wore extra-long shorts when playing football. And it was the reason he hadn’t learned to swim yet, because that would mean taking his shirt off in front of the other kids. He didn’t have to be careful all the time though. Just sometimes. And it wasn’t anyone else’s business anyway. What did it matter to anyone else?

      What did people know about him anyway? Why was the headmaster all of a sudden being his best friend? David hadn’t done anything to anyone, so why was he the one that was in trouble now? Why was he the one that was going to be sent to a new home? That’s what would happen now. His mother had told him so. A new home, new parents, a new school, a new football team. How had this happened?

      And then it dawned on David. Michael O’Connor was to blame. If it hadn’t have been for his constant bullying and bashing of younger kids, David would never have covered his bike seat and handlebars with super glue. It was his own fault. And he hadn’t even learned any kind of lesson. He was still going to bash people. Headmaster Chadwick sensed the boy’s willingness to confide.

      ‘You can tell me, son. Who did this to you? Who is to blame?’

      Michael O’Connor was the reason David was going to be sent away. He looked the headmaster in the eye.

      ‘Sir, it was Michael O’Connor that did this to me.’

      Chadwick’s brow furrowed.

      ‘O’Connor?’

      ‘He did it all of last year too sir. And over the holidays. He said …’

      David bit his bottom lip and looked down. Chadwick put his hand on his shoulder.

      ‘Go on. What did he say?’

      David kept his eyes down.

      ‘He said that the only thing I was good for was a beating, sir.’

      David didn’t see the headmaster’s Adam’s apple shift as he swallowed. He just kept looking down at the floor, feeling ashamed. Not ashamed at the bruises or the cuts themselves. He was ashamed at placing the words of his father into the mouth of an innocent bully.

      CHAPTER 6

      ‘Well?’

      Reality slapped David between the eyes.

      ‘I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?’

      Gabriel sighed.

      ‘I asked if you knew what happened to Michael O’Connor.’

      David looked over at Olivia, praying that there was some kind of objection she could make. It didn’t appear so.

      ‘He left school.’

      ‘Isn’t it true he was expelled from school?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And is it fair to say that he was expelled due to the false testimony you gave to the headmaster?’