Nobody Came by Robbie Garner Read Free Book Online

height. She gently held my elbows, her brown eyes looked earnestly into mine as she explained, using words I could understand, the meaning of what the headmaster had been saying.
    ‘What your headmaster is trying to tell you is that you must look better when you come to school. Your clothes are nearly worn away. And I know you are only a little boy so it’s not your fault, but they smell as well. You’ve got to be clean and neat when you come here.’ She paused for breath and I looked at her uncomprehendingly. After all, what could I do?
    The headmaster started again. ‘We have a charitable fund at our disposal for boys in your position and we have decided that you certainly qualify for a sum of money to be spent on you. Mrs Johnston,’ he told us, indicating the lady who had brought me to his office, ‘is going to take you shopping. She will choose the right clothes for you. In turn you two boys are to come to school with clean hair, hands and face. There is no excuse for you to come here dirty.’ His hand snaked out and caught John’s ear and he quickly inspected it. He continued: ‘That means neck and ears, my boy. Yours are grey.’
    I continued to stare at him; suddenly I didn’t want to meet John’s eyes. I had seen the blush that suffused his face until even the tips of his ears had turned a bright crimson. I knew he felt diminished somehow by the headmaster’s words and it was even worse that I, his little brother who hero-worshipped him, had been present to witness his embarrassment. I wondered if we could go – but no, the headmaster hadn’t finished with us yet.
    ‘One more thing. It’s been reported to me that you never bring a lunch box with you. Is that right?’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ answered John, shuffling his feet and still inspecting the floor.
    ‘Look at me when I’m talking to you,’ the headmaster barked. John’s head shot up. I saw his hands clench and knew that he wanted to be anywhere but in this room.
    ‘Mrs Johnston will organise a charity lunch box for each of you,’ he said dismissively.
    I wanted to shout at that headmaster and tell him all about my wonderful brother. He had no idea who John really was. He had never seen how he cared for Davie and me and kept our flat as clean as he could. He didn’t hear the abuse that Gloria heaped on him or see him run errands for his drunken mother who for some reason – maybe just because he was the eldest – seemed to blame him for the many misfortunes in her life. He just saw two uncared for and unloved children standing in front of him and judged them as being worthless. He gave no consideration to our pride because we were only two grubby boys who qualified for a charity hand-out. And once his duty was done, he dismissed us.
    Mrs Johnston took us to a shop that stocked suitable school clothes for us. After she had chosen the most inexpensive but serviceable shirt, shoes, trousers and a jumper each, it was all wrapped into two parcels for us to take home.
    On the way home, we were excited at receiving new clothes that would mean we fitted in better at school, but apprehensive about Gloria’s possible reaction.
    She screeched when John said he was getting the bath out. ‘Where do you think the money’s coming from to put in the gas meter?’ John didn’t answer. He just went to the jar where loose change was kept and took the money out. And for the first time she backed down – not without muttering that no one was going to tell her how to bring up her kids, but the heart had gone out of her complaints.
    ‘Oh, do what you want – you always do,’ she finally said after John repeated that we had to be clean before we wore the new clothes.
    The next day we were scrubbed clean. Dressed in our new uniforms and smelling of soap, we both, in different parts of the school, received a charity lunch box of food.
    I felt the heat rise on the back of my neck when I was given mine. I just knew that every child in the class knew what that