22

The ball rebounded off the wall and landed at Joseph’s feet.

It didn’t bounce. That would demand some air being left inside it.

‘Was this thing ever pumped up?’ he said.

‘Course it was,’ Syd replied, pointing at an enclosure off in the distance. ‘That’s where the seals lived, over there. That was their favourite juggling ball.’

Joseph looked over to where Syd was pointing but couldn’t imagine what she was describing, couldn’t picture the crowds or hear the laughter. Couldn’t imagine the zoo feeling anything but dead.

He kicked the ball again. Harder, though it returned in the exact same, unsatisfactory manner. The thud drew Adonis from his hut, eyes on Joseph, as if trying to understand what on earth the boy was doing. Joseph tried to pretend that he wasn’t there, watching.

‘I can see who you’re picturing as you kick that,’ said Syd. ‘The ball’s in better condition than Bert is though. The fool.’

Joseph laughed. He couldn’t help himself and it felt good. He knew he owed her for today.

‘Thanks,’ he said, trying to hide the word beneath another thud of the ball.

‘Pardon?’

‘You heard...’

‘No, I presumed you were thanking the ball. I was just confused as to why you weren’t thanking me instead.’

‘You just want me to say it again, don’t you?’

‘No, it’d just be nice if I thought you actually meant it.’

He kicked the ball once more, as if the exertion would somehow hide his blushes. ‘What do you want? Me on my knees or something?’

Syd pictured it and nodded. ‘It’s an idea. After all, I did an awful lot to stop you getting caned.’

Finally, he stopped his kicking and looked at her.

‘I do know that. I’m not dumb.’

‘Why does everything come down to being dumb or thick or stupid with you? Did I say you were any of those things?’

‘No, but...’

‘Then stop it. You seem to have conveniently forgotten that you’re also a maths genius! Anyway, I don’t care if you’re smart or the class dunce.’

‘Yeah well, that makes you the only one round here.’

Syd knew what he was referring to. Later in the day, she’d watched in class as Joseph had sat, squirming in his seat, Miss Doherty beside him, a reading book quivering between them. To her credit, the teacher had done things differently this time, taking Joseph to the farthest part of the classroom, speaking to him in hushed tones that no one else could hear.

She’d not flinched when Joseph told her he’d lost his reading book. She’d simply fetched a new one, then prompted, and prodded, and made all the right encouraging noises as he winced in the direction of the page: ‘Take your time now, there’s no rush... Reading is like building blocks. Once you know how to stack them you can build anything – a skyscraper!’ Her wide eyes almost pleaded with him to be impressed.

But it didn’t matter how gentle the prod, to Joseph it felt like a fist in the chest, and no matter how quickly he’d dashed through the school gates at the end of the day, with Syd in tow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was another thing wrong with him.

He tried to shake the thought of it from his head, but it had taken firm root, and no amount of ball kicking seemed to shake it, not that he’d really expected it to.

‘What did you say when Miss asked where your reading book was?’ Syd said.

‘Told her an ape ate it.’

Syd looked at Adonis and remembered the confetti the ape had made of it. She laughed. ‘Well, it’s more original than blaming it on the dog.’

Joseph nodded and looked at Adonis, who seemed to plump himself up proudly.

‘Don’t get over-excited,’ Joseph told him. ‘I don’t think for a minute that you did it to help me out.’

‘Aw, look, you’ve offended him!’ said Syd as the ape looked away. ‘And I wouldn’t rule it out, either. They’re clever, apes.’

Silence. Joseph had nothing to add. Another kick. Another thud.

‘So, I’m guessing you never told Miss Doherty – about the words moving around on the page?’

‘Did you hear her laughing in there?’

‘Joseph, she wouldn’t laugh, she’s a teacher!’

‘Didn’t stop the others.’

‘So, you didn’t tell her?’

He shook his head and tried to flick the ball onto his knee, sulking when he failed.

‘You can’t keep going on like this, you know. In a couple of weeks’ time, Gryce will arrive for his monthly tests. And you know full well he’ll be extra interested in you. I don’t want to scare you, but it’s not a nice afternoon when he comes in. I’ve seen a girl wet herself before in panic.’

Joseph pulled a face that said he wouldn’t fold like that, but Syd spoke on. ‘And one boy, well he didn’t give Gryce the answer to seven times two quick enough, so he got caned fourteen times, so he’d never forget.’

Joseph may have considered himself tough, but even that made his palms sting in anticipation. ‘Miss Doherty warned me about the test again today. Said my maths would help, but that we had a lot of work to do if Gryce wasn’t going to be upset.’

‘And you want that? Really?’

‘Course not.’

‘Then what do you need to do... ?’

Joseph knew what she was getting at. He knew he only had to ask, and she’d do exactly as he wished. But the words, the ‘word’ – HELP – refused to form on his lips. He tried, he really did, but every time he felt it on his tongue he remembered the other times he’d uttered it, and the crashing disappointments that followed. His gaze dropped to the floor and he kicked the ball even harder.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Joseph. Let me help you, will you?’

The thought of accepting made his chest hurt.

‘I know you’re embarrassed about it. I understand why. But you can’t let yourself walk straight into Clarence like this, you can’t! So I’m going to help you read. And don’t even try and say no.’

‘Or what?’

‘Or you’ll find me a more dangerous enemy than Bert or Jimmy.’

Joseph bit the inside of his lip.

‘Come on, no one’s watching. Only him –’ she pointed at Adonis – ‘and he’s already shown you what he thinks about books.’

He weighed it up and realised he had no choice if he wanted to avoid Gryce’s and Clarence’s wrath.

So he sat next to her on the bench self-consciously, not helped when he spotted Adonis staring at them again. In fact, it looked like he might have shuffled closer.

‘Right,’ said Syd, ‘I brought this with me.’ And from the rear waistband of her skirt, she pulled out Joseph’s reading book.

‘Where did you get that from?’ he said, bemused.

‘From your desk, of course. I couldn’t give you a lesson without it, could I?’

‘But I hadn’t asked you for a lesson.’

Syd looked at him wearily. ‘No, but I knew you would in the end. So let’s get on with it, shall we?’

Joseph huffed loudly. How on earth had she persuaded him to do this?

She set the book on his knee, and he felt himself tense as Syd leaned into his shoulder.

‘Shall we start with the alphabet?’

He turned his head quickly.

‘I’m not a baby.’

‘I know you’re not.’

‘And I have been to school, just... not lately.’

‘So you know about vowels?’

‘Course I do.’

‘Go on then,’ she prompted. To Joseph she looked like she was relishing the power a little too much.

‘Well, it’s A and E and I, and that.’

‘And the others are?’

‘Leave off, Syd, will you?’ He made to stand, which made Syd change tack.

‘I’m sorry. Tell me, then. What does A stand for?’

‘Are you pulling my leg?’

‘Just tell me. Then we can move on.’

He didn’t so much sigh as huff. She was on the shakiest of ground.

‘A? Well it stands for...’ his mind went blank for a second. ‘Well, you know...’ He thought. ‘Air raid and Adolf and anger and... Adonis.’

The other words he could understand, but that last one? Why on earth did he think of that? There were hundreds, thousands of As out there, so why choose the ape?

‘Can we get on with it?’ he grumbled, before Syd had a chance to hang any meaning off his choices.

‘Fine. So. Put your finger next to the first word.’

He did as he was told, but as he focused on it, it started again. The word, and all the others around it started to move, dance, like they were being tossed around on a high sea. It took every bit of concentration he had to make his finger remain below it, let alone read it.

Syd watched, shocked as Joseph’s index finger slid around the page.

‘Is it happening again? Won’t they stay still?’

He thrust the book away from him and onto the gravel. ‘What do you think? Just cos you’re here doesn’t mean it stops happening.’

‘Does it help if you close your eyes a bit? Squint, I mean?’

‘Are you taking the mick?’

She clearly wasn’t, and after more cajoling he snatched up the book and tried again, through narrowed eyes.

‘Now it’s a darker,dancing mess.’

‘Hmmmm,’ said Syd, a detective poring over clues. ‘Will you try one more thing? Please?’

‘If you ask me to read standing on my head, I promise, I’ll swing for you, Syd.’

She shook her head. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Just humour me and try something on, will you?’

She pulled from her cardigan pocket a pair of old spectacles: severe and angular.

‘Whose are those?’ he said, pained.

‘My auntie’s spares.’

‘Then what are they doing in your pocket?’

‘Well, I wanted to see if they helped you.’

Joseph couldn’t believe how premeditated all this was.

‘You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m just organised. And I want to help. Well, come on.’

Joseph peered at Adonis. Did apes have a sense of humour? Because if this one laughed, he swore he would lose his mind.

‘Well? What are you waiting for?’ said Syd.

Joseph stared at the specatacles, aghast.

‘Come on,’ said Syd, ‘quicker you try, quicker it’s over!’

Against his better judgement, and swearing under his breath, he slid the arms over his ears, without letting the bridge rest on his nose. He kept his hands cupped around the frames too, to hide his appearance, though to Syd it looked like he was searching for U-boats through a pair of binoculars.

‘Well?’ she said, though she needn’t have bothered, as by the time the question was asked, the spectacles were spinning on the floor, hurled in a rage. ‘Oh,’ she said, though she might have said a whole lot more when Joseph’s foot crunched them into the gravel.

‘Are you happy now?’ he spat, face scarlet with frustration, which barely disguised his shame. ‘Well? Are you?’

‘I thought it might help,’ she said, a trace of pleading in her voice. ‘That’s all.’

‘Yeah, well, you can leave it alone now, can’t you? There’s summat wrong with me. And not you, or anyone else, can fix it.’

‘That’s not true, Joseph. And you can’t give up like that. You mustn’t.’

But Joseph had made up his mind. ‘Leave me alone, will you? I don’t want your help. Go and save someone else.’

‘I won’t give up,’ she replied calmly.

‘I said GO!’

So, reluctantly, she did, leaving Joseph where he wanted to be. Where he felt he deserved to be.

Alone.

The only problem was, he wasn’t on his own at all. Adonis remained. And although he did not move, he did tilt his head slightly to the side, eyes on Joseph, a low, slow, repetitive noise leaving his mouth.

It wasn’t a growl, far from it – more a groan, though even that wasn’t completely accurate. It reached Joseph’s ears gently, at odds with his own chaotic thoughts, and although he didn’t want to admit it, it stayed with him, helping his mind settle, just a touch.