Blaikie shrugged, blew a fat, slow bubble. Sucked it back into her mouth before she answered. ‘You’re easier to talk to. Nicer. Everybody says it. Not just me.’ She chewed thoughtfully. ‘Even Mrs Holden’s getting to like you.’
That was true, and it was strange that Blaikie, of all people, should have noticed that. He smiled at her.
She smiled back. Her face was so white, her teeth looked yellow. ‘See,’ she said. ‘You’ve never smiled at me in your life.’
‘I wish you’d wash that muck off your face, Blaikie. You’d be a real cracker if you didn’t wear that make-up.’
For a minute he was sure she was going to spit her chewing gum at him, but then, she smiled again. ‘If you say Mungo didn’t do it, I’ll believe you.’
In that second, Col realised he wanted to tell her everything. He needed somebody to confide in, maybe Blaikie was the one. She would listen. She would understand.
But the moment passed as Col heard a familiar, excited voice calling him from across the playground.
‘Col! Col!’
It was Dominic, jumping about at the school gates, and with him, looking grim, was Mr Sampson.
Chapter Eighteen
Dominic came running up to him, and began pulling on his hand. ‘Come on, Col.’
Col was sweating as he was dragged towards the school gates.
‘You’re for it now,’ Denny sneered at him as he passed. Denny, once his best pal, was now wishing more trouble on him. Mr Sampson wasn’t even looking Col’s way. He kept his back to him, studying the road intently.
Col saw his headmaster emerge from the school building. He caught sight of Mr Sampson. Col saw recognition on his face. Then alarm as he saw Col heading towards him. Col had seen that look many times before. Waiting for trouble. Expecting it from the McCanns.
Col could hardly listen to Dominic’s chattering. Only caught snatches of it.
‘My dad’s got the car. Wants you to go with him.’
Col’s heart was bursting through his chest. Wants me to go with him? he thought. Where?
To the police station probably.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see his headmaster watching closely, waiting. And not just his eyes, the eyes of all the other pupils in the playground.
Mr Sampson turned as Col approached. Col stopped dead. He was aware of all the eyes of the school turned towards him, from the playground, from teachers, from windows. Everyone.
And, suddenly, to his surprise, Mr Sampson smiled. ‘Hello, Col. How are you?’
Col couldn’t answer. His mouth was dry. He was too surprised. He glanced quickly back into the playground. The tension there seemed to have dropped. The headmaster was still heading for his car, still darting quick glances towards the school gates. But he seemed more relaxed now.
Col looked back at Mr Sampson. ‘Why did you come here?’ he asked, puzzled.
Dominic answered, bouncing with enthusiasm as usual. ‘We’re all going out for a meal. It’s my mum’s birthday. You’re coming too. We’ve already phoned your mum. It’s OK.’
He stopped for breath and Mr Sampson smiled again. ‘He manages to tell a whole story in ten seconds.’
Col still couldn’t believe it. ‘You want me to go with you?’
Mr Sampson nodded. ‘If you’d like to. We’d like you to be there.’
They could have phoned to ask him. Picked him up at the house, or he could have met them at the restaurant. There were plenty of alternatives to actually coming to the school to ask him.
‘Why did you come … here?’ Col asked again.
But he knew why, even before Mr Sampson answered. ‘Because we don’t want anybody, here at school – anywhere – thinking we blame you. We don’t, Col.’
Dominic pulled at his sleeve. ‘You’re going to come, right? ’Cause I’m not going if you don’t come.’
It wasn’t going to be easy, spending time with the Sampsons, knowing what Mungo had done. But if they could suffer him, he would do it. It was the least he could do.
‘I’d like to come,’ Col said softly. ‘If you’re sure.’
Dominic had no doubts. ‘Of course we’re sure.’
‘We’ll pick you up then,’ Mr Sampson said. ‘About seven?’
‘No!’ Col said it too quickly. But he couldn’t have the Sampsons sitting in the car outside his house, and Mungo inside. Col in the middle of it all. No. He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll meet you at the restaurant, if that’s OK.’
Mr Sampson didn’t object. So it was decided, and Col wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing or not.
It had begun to rain by the time he got home, and the rain became a storm as the afternoon darkened.