Stand By Me. S.D. Robertson

‘I didn’t much like the look of the communal showers, but there was no time for anyone to use them today. The teachers were around most of the time too, so no one was being nasty.’

      The boys were probably all still scoping each other out at this early stage, Wendy thought, hoping the situation wouldn’t change. ‘And the rugby?’

      ‘I wasn’t very good. I kept dropping the ball and I was one of the slowest runners. I got put into a group called Gentleman’s Rugby, which is basically a nice way of saying we’re the rubbish ones.’

      Wendy stifled a laugh at this. ‘Oh well. There’s much more to life than rugby. But you made some new friends?’

      Elliot ran his middle finger in circles around the rim of his tea mug. ‘Kind of. The boy who sits next to me in our form room seems nice.’

      ‘What’s his name?’

      ‘Neil Walsh. He lives down the road from school, close enough to walk.’

      ‘Super. What’s he like?’

      Elliot shrugged. ‘I dunno. Friendly.’

      ‘And the others?’

      ‘They’re fine.’ Changing the subject, which Wendy took to mean she’d probed enough about his day, he added: ‘It sounds like Lisa’s going to make the hockey team.’

      ‘Really? How come?’

      ‘She said she scored a couple of goals today. She used to play at primary school.’

      ‘That’s nice.’

      Elliot frowned. ‘Not for me. She’ll be busy most Saturdays if she’s selected, because that’s when they play their games against other schools. I don’t get why she’d want to give up so much of her free time.’

      ‘Oh, Elliot,’ Wendy replied. ‘You should be happy for her if she makes the team. I know you’re not particularly keen on sport, but life would be boring if we all liked and disliked the same things. What about tomorrow? I’m sure she doesn’t have a hockey practice yet.’

      ‘Not yet, no. We’re going to meet up in the morning.’

      ‘There you go. So that’s something to look forward to.’

      Elliot rolled his eyes. ‘How long until tea’s ready?’

      ‘About forty-five minutes. Would you like grated or sliced cheese on your burger?’

      ‘Grated, please.’

      Burger and chips was Elliot’s favourite meal, which was why Wendy had made it for him today. If he had his way, he’d visit McDonald’s every week. But they could only afford to eat out as a rare treat. Her homemade Wendy Burger, as she liked to call it, always went down well.

      She did feel bad sometimes that she wasn’t able to spoil Elliot more, but her modest nurse’s salary was the only household income, so there was never going to be a lot of money to spare. At least he had clothes to wear, food to eat and a roof over his head. Wendy was particularly proud of the fact that their home was detached, even though it was actually smaller than a lot of terraced properties: the upstairs in particular. It was plenty big enough for the two of them and she did her utmost to fill it with love and laughter.

      Would she have preferred it if Gary was still with them and they were a complete family? Of course. He was a wonderful man, who she loved with all her heart. And the way he was taken from them – killed in a motorbike crash, gone in an instant with no warning – had always felt particularly cruel. A day didn’t go by when she didn’t think of him and wish that he and Elliot had got to spend more time together. Gary had adored his ‘little man’. It was awful to think of everything he’d already missed out on as his son grew up. Today was yet another milestone his dad should have been there for. They kept on coming.

      As for Elliot, he said he still remembered his dad, but she wondered how much of that was what she’d told him rather than actual memories. He’d only been four when he’d died, poor thing. She kept Gary as alive as she could in Elliot’s mind by regularly talking about him, showing photos and recounting stories from their time together. What more could she do? She would have liked to have kept in touch with Gary’s parents. However, they’d made that impossible by cutting off all contact when she’d needed it most, soon after his death, inexplicably blaming her for what had happened. She’d never heard from them since, so apparently they had no interest in getting to know their grandson.

      Wendy had learned long ago that you just had to make the best of things and focus on the positives rather than the negatives, like the fact that she and Elliot had such a close relationship and how incredibly proud she was of him. She was constantly telling her friends and colleagues about his amazing achievements, such as getting into King George’s. He was her everything – the one aspect of her life that was perfect and she wouldn’t change one iota. She couldn’t have wished for a kinder, more loving child.

      Elliot may not have been much of a sportsman, as today’s rugby trials had shown, but he came into his own in the classroom. He’d always been one of the brightest in school: an all-rounder, as the teachers liked to put it, excelling equally at Maths and English and everything in between. It seemed to come easily to him. Wendy wasn’t sure where this came from, since neither she nor Gary had been especially academic during their own school days, but of course she was delighted.

      His Junior Three primary school teacher, Mr Armitage, had contacted Wendy to suggest Elliot ought to apply to somewhere more academically challenging than the local comprehensive. She’d taken some convincing, because of the distances involved and, most importantly, the fees. But after Mr Armitage had presented her with details of the various bursaries and scholarships available, even offering his services as a private tutor free of charge, she’d come round to the idea.

      As kind and supportive as Mr Armitage was, Wendy had always suspected that part of the reason for his offer was down to her being a widow and him a bachelor with aspirations of marriage. He was a socially awkward chap. Although he had made a couple of attempts to ask her out, they’d been so clumsy and unclear that, simply by playing dumb, she’d managed to wiggle out of them without the discomfort of formally rejecting him. But she saw the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching: the way so many men did when they learned her husband had died. Apparently there was something appealing about a young widow. She suspected that some liked the idea of sweeping in to rescue her, while others assumed she must be desperate and therefore an easy conquest.

      The truth was that in between working, sewing, running the household and looking after Elliot, she didn’t have much time for dating. Plus, she still couldn’t picture being with anyone but her beloved Gary, which was why she continued to wear her wedding ring. She’d also made a secret pact with herself not to date anyone while Elliot was still at primary school, to avoid confusing him when he was too young to understand. That obviously no longer applied. And yet, even with her thirty-second birthday just around the corner, she still didn’t feel in a rush to do anything about it.

      Anyway, whatever Mr Armitage’s reasons were for helping Elliot, following several weeks of evening classes, he’d taken the King George’s entrance exam and won a scholarship. He and Wendy had both been really impressed by the school during an earlier open evening, so he’d accepted.

      ‘I have a little gift for you,’ Wendy said now, as Elliot tucked into his burger. She opened one of the drawers and removed a small, rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper, which she slid across the kitchen table into his hands.

      ‘Ooh, exciting,’ he said. ‘What is it?’

      Wendy beamed a broad smile in his direction. ‘Well, you won’t find out by staring at it.’

      ‘No, but I mean what’s it for?’

      ‘Finishing your first day at secondary school, of course. I’m terribly proud of you. I know you’ll do really well at King George’s.’

      ‘I’ll do my best,’ Elliot said, turning the package around in his hands