CHAPTER 16
Wrong.
“Solo! Wait up, Solo!”
I turned to see Miss Ellis the teaching assistant running across the playground towards me. She worked in class for art and music. Her brown curly hair bounced as she ran.
“Solo, wait for me!”
I tried to carry on walking. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she caught up to me in no time, and it felt too rude to properly ignore her. After all, Miss Ellis was one of the nice ones.
“Do you have two seconds, Solo? I know you’re running a bit late, but I’ll tell Miss Carmichael it was my fault – not to worry.”
“Listen, I…” Miss Ellis shifted her weight awkwardly from one sandal to another. “I saw something in the news about you and your mum. About the funeral… I suppose I just wanted to check in and ask whether you’re all right.”
“Oh, that.” I stared at the ground.
“Yeah, that,” she said quietly. “Can’t be nice having your business splashed all over the papers. If you need anyone to talk to, you know where I am, OK?”
“Sure,” I said. I wanted to be anywhere else but here, having this conversation. “I really should go to class now.”
“How about your mum? Is she doing all right?”
“She’s fine,” I said, my voice sounding all raspy and weird.
Miss Ellis started rummaging in her handbag. “Listen, I have something to give you. It’s information about a local food bank. Do you know what that is, Solo?”
I shrugged, but of course I’d heard of them. Sometimes school sent a letter home asking for donations of food and other bits for the local food bank. Back when Morag had her job, she used to send me in with tins and pasta and washing-up liquid for the collection. It wasn’t much, just things she didn’t need. I hadn’t dared suggest to Morag that maybe we could go to the food bank. Morag hated when people tried to help her.
“It’s a local organization designed to help people in difficult situations,” Miss Ellis went on. “I volunteer there a few times a week and everyone is super nice and totally non-judgemental. They can help you out with food and essentials if you and your mum need it. And it’s all totally free of charge.”
She handed me a leaflet with a smaller piece of paper inside that said FOOD BANK VOUCHER at the top. Underneath the heading, there was an address, a phone number and different blank sections to be filled in.
“Show it to your mum. All she needs to do is add a bit of information, bring it to the centre, and we’ll do the rest.”
“Thanks,” I said, and I folded them up and stuffed them inside my jacket pocket. I didn’t know whether I dared show Morag. “I’d better be going.”
“And, Solo…” Miss Ellis looked me in the eye and sounded serious. “I won’t tell anyone about what we’ve spoken about this morning. There’s no need to worry about that.”
That was something, I supposed.
Miss Carmichael was halfway through the register when I got to the classroom door. It was open, but I stood there for ages, unsure whether to go in. Sometimes Miss Carmichael didn’t mind people being late. Other times she pretty much bit the latecomer’s head clean off, like a carnivorous beast.
“Katy McDonald?” I heard her call out.
“Yes, Miss Carmichael.”
“Morning, Katy. Nathaniel Neville?”
“Yes, Miss Carmichael.”
“Good morning, Nathaniel. Nice haircut, by the way. Sebastian Olivers?”
“Yes, Miss Carmichael. And, Miss? There’s somebody waiting at the door, Miss.”
Miss Carmichael turned and saw me, then the whole class started giggling. I didn’t move.
“Ah, Solo Walker,” she said, not sounding happy. She popped the lid back on her pen. “Better late than never. Are you coming in?”
I swallowed. “Yes, Miss Carmichael. Sorry I’m late. I—”
“Yes? And what’s the reason today?”
I felt Miss Cowmichael’s eyes glaring right through me, reading my thoughts, inspecting the piece of toast I had for breakfast. I hadn’t even bothered to make up an excuse while I was running to school. I opened my mouth to speak but only a croak came out.
“He was probably at a funeral, Miss!” somebody shouted.
“Oh dear,” she said. “I’m sorry for your loss, Solo.”
Everyone immediately burst out laughing and I felt my face start to inflate like a balloon at a birthday party.
So they knew. Great.
“Yeah, he was probably too busy having eggs for breakfast,” said Kai Bailey, looking smug. All the boys on Kai’s table could barely contain their smirks. He’d obviously told them what he’d done to our windows.
“I haven’t been to a funeral, Miss,” I croaked.
“What’s all this nonsense about, then?” she said, indicating Kai and his mates.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Just a stupid joke, that’s all.”
“Well, that’s enough joking around. Now, you know what I’m going to say, don’t you, Solo?” Miss Carmichael glanced at my clothes. “I’m afraid it’s going to be another demerit for uniform.”
Everybody laughed again.
“That’s just one more demerit before I’ll have to send a letter home, OK. We’re having a uniform sale next week, as it happens,” she continued. “All right, Solo, you can take your seat while I finish the register.”
“Yes, Miss Carmichael.”
I made my way to my usual table, muttering a curse at Kai under my breath as I scuffed my shoes along the carpet. I knew I didn’t really have magical powers, but it was always worth a shot.
When I got to my seat, someone was already sitting in it. Someone I’d never seen before in my life, right there in my chair. She had long, shiny black hair and a uniform so neat and tidy it had straight lines ironed down the sleeves. She was even wearing the gleaming gold Star of the Week pin badge.
“Sorry.” The girl shrugged. “I think this seat’s mine now. I’m new.”
“New?” I said.
“Yeah,” said Mina, sucking on the end of her pink pen. “Chetna sits on this table now. We actually call it the Cool Table since you don’t sit here any more. Don’t we, Chetna?”
Chetna shrugged again.
“What? When did you start?” I looked around in disbelief.
“I started on Friday. You weren’t here, so Miss Carmichael told me to—”
“But you’re already Star of the Week!” I said. “How did you even get it?”
“That’s none of your beeswax, FB.” Mina flicked her hair, creating a curtain between her and me.
FB? I thought. Oh. Funeral Boy.
“Ah, yes.” Miss Carmichael appeared and ushered me along. “Chetna is a new student in the class. You’ll have to take a chair and work on your lap for the time being. I’ll ask Mr Stephens the caretaker to bring in another desk after lunch.”
Everyone watched me as I lifted a chair from the stack in the corner and sat down on my own in the space next to the fire exit.
“Long division, what joy!” Miss Carmichael announced, which wasn’t funny, but everyone chuckled. “We’ll be picking up exactly where we left off in last week’s lesson.”
She began scrawling numbers and lines all over the whiteboard. Instantly I was lost, like the time I wandered off at the supermarket and ended up in the freezer section looking at ice cream. Meanwhile Morag had been panicking in the vegetable aisle. That was years ago. Nowadays it was me who went looking for her.
My eyes started to go blurry. I got my jotter out of my school bag and drew a massive robot called Solobot 3000 on the back page. It had a square metal head, pointy fangs, four guns coming out of each hand, and huge crusher feet the size of double-decker buses. I drew Kai Bailey underneath one of the feet, with crosses for his eyes to show he was a goner.
I glanced up and noticed that Chetna wasn’t facing the board. She had turned round in her seat (well, my seat, technically) and she was looking directly at me.
What? I mouthed, making my eyes all small and mean. I already knew I was going to be called Funeral Boy for ever; I didn’t need the new girl to remind me.
But rather than sticking out her tongue or saying something cruel, the girl did the strangest thing. She smiled.