I entered the playground as the last few Year Sixes followed their teacher inside the school. Heading towards the reception, I began formulating a reason why I needed to talk to Prince. I was going to be late picking him up? Or he had forgotten something? But I knew that Miss King, the receptionist, would say I could leave a message with her.
I was still trying to invent a plausible story that would get me a few minutes with Prince, as I pushed open the heavy glass door into the school.
Behind the long reception desk stood Mrs Marshall, the headteacher, beside a frowning Miss King, who had a phone receiver held between her cheek and her shoulder and was staring intently at her computer screen. They both looked up as I entered.
‘Ha!’ exclaimed Mrs Marshall. ‘Speak of the devil! Hello, Emmanuel. We were just trying to call your parents.’
‘Oh,’ I replied, my thoughts thrown into turmoil by this revelation. ‘Erm, can I just talk to Prince please?’
Mrs Marshall looked at me over her glasses. She wasn’t cross, I think she looked confused.
‘OK,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Follow me. It’s probably best if you stay here till we get this sorted out.’
I felt my throat tightening and my stomach balling up as my fears began to be realised.
‘Is everything OK, Miss?’ I was not entirely sure what I was asking.
‘You just come and wait with Prince and we’ll see about getting hold of your parents.’ I could tell Mrs Marshall was not going to tell me anything so I just followed. Every step felt heavier and I began to hear a humming noise that filled my head, blocking out thoughts that I didn’t want to think.
Mrs Marshall led me to the first-aid room. Prince was sitting on the long, orange bed; one of the teaching assistants was crouching in front of him and cleaning his hand, her pale skin against his dark brown.
‘You’re OK, bub,’ she said to Prince, inspecting his cut hand.
I hope we’re OK, I thought.
The teaching assistant straightened up from tending to Prince’s bloody knuckles and noticed us entering. She broke into a smile. ‘Hello, Emmanuel, what are you doing here?’
I didn’t answer but glared at Prince, who was looking at his knuckle and wincing.
Mrs Marshall brushed past me and I could hear her talking softly to the teaching assistant. I was intent on Prince and didn’t hear what was said until the beaming teaching assistant spoke up.
‘OK,’ she said, still grinning widely. ‘Leave it to me.’ Then she addressed me and Prince. ‘I’ll see you boys in a minute. Keep pressing that pack against your hand,’ she said, motioning to the vivid blue packet that Prince held in his undamaged hand.
Mrs Marshall and the happy teaching assistant turned and left. I could hear them speaking over footsteps that clicked along the wooden floor as they made their way back to the reception area.
I turned on my brother. ‘What have you said?’
‘I’m sorry!’ was all Prince replied.
I quickly repeated myself, taking hold of Prince’s shoulder. ‘What have you said?’
He looked up at me from a further inspection of his knuckle. ‘Nothing! I haven’t said anything much.’ He stopped for a moment and I continued to glare at him. ‘Well, just, you’ve heard about Lil’ Legacy, right?’
I nodded, my heart beating a heavy rhythm inside my chest.
‘Well, I just told Gary Coomber that me and Lil’ Legacy could be related. I told him I wasn’t meant to be here too and maybe we were from the same place. You don’t know; we could be like cousins or something.’
I looked at my brother and felt like I was seeing an enemy. I was so angry. I grabbed his grazed hand. He winced but I didn’t let go.
He went on. ‘Gary said he would tell on me and I’d have to go back where I came from. We got in a big fight and then Mrs Marshall came out. That’s it. I promise. Like I said, nothing.’ Prince finished with a whine as he finally managed to wrestle his hand free of mine and re-apply the blue pack.
A swear word began to form on my lips, but instead I blurted out, ‘You don’t get it, do you?’
Prince didn’t answer. His eyes flicked down to his hand.
I looked up at the clock. I didn’t need to know the time, but I couldn’t bear to look at Prince. I pulled him up to his feet from the orange bed.
‘Come on!’ I said. I picked up his bag and headed for the door.