Nobody Came by Robbie Garner Read Free Book Online Page A

little container, placed carefully on my desk, meant. I could feel everyone looking at me as I opened it and examined the contents: hard-boiled egg sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper, a bottle of orange squash and a small piece of fruit cake. I would rather have had an apple and a piece of cheese from John’s pocket – anything rather than the shame of a charity lunch box that marked us out as ‘different’ and ‘unloved’ just as clearly as our old, ragged clothes had done before.

Chapter Seven
     
    A few weeks after we had been called to the headmaster’s office, school broke up for the Christmas holidays. The festive season was cold and rainy that year – not that it made any difference to us.
    We knew there wouldn’t be a Christmas tree covered with imitation snow and draped with paper chains with a glittering star on top. Neither, we were sure, would there be a sack of presents waiting to surprise us. And there was no point looking for stockings stuffed with oranges and sweets at the foot of our beds.
    We knew that other families celebrated with presents and special meals. We had seen brightly decorated rooms and trees with piles of presents sitting under their branches through the windows of other people’s houses. And we could imagine how Christmas day would be in their homes: carpets strewn with wrapping paper torn off presents by excited small children, air perfumed with the rich smells of a mother’s baking and dishes full of fruit, nuts and chocolates on the dining-room table.
    If, when we saw those children who glowed with the confidence of being cared for, we felt emptiness, a hollow space under our ribs that should have been filled with love, we said nothing. For what is put into words becomes reality and we were happy, weren’t we?
    All the word Christmas meant to John and me was a day off school, and to Davie it meant even less. So that year when we woke on Christmas morning we were prepared to find it was just another day.
    Our mouths fell open when we went into the sitting room and saw four parcels wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Three smaller ones had been put on the table and a bigger one lay on the floor. John jabbed me in the ribs and we stared at each other. Davie ran over and grabbed one.
    ‘Better leave that alone,’ John said quickly.
    ‘Where do they come from?’ I asked.
    ‘Not Father Christmas, that’s for sure,’ said John with a knowing laugh.
    At that moment Gloria’s door opened and Stanley came out with a huge grin on his face.
    ‘Merry Christmas, boys,’ he said. Then he called over his shoulder, ‘Come on, Gloria. It’s time to open our Christmas presents.’
    Gloria, still in her old, stained dressing gown, with the baby on her hip and a cigarette in the other hand, stopped dead when she saw the parcels on the table.
    ‘Bloody hell, what’s this then?’
    ‘You won’t know until you’ve opened them,’ Stanley answered. ‘You all sit down and I’ll hand them out.’
    We three boys dived obediently onto the sagging couch. Gloria sank into her corner of it, one thinly plucked eyebrow raised enquiringly.
    Stanley picked up a parcel and read out what he had written in pencil on the brown paper: ‘To my dearest Gloria. Happy Christmas. Love, Stanley.’
    ‘I hope you don’t think I got you anything,’ she said, snatching the present from him.
    We watched her tear off the paper and give a squeal of surprise. Stanley had bought her the latest record by Johnnie Ray, ‘Somebody Stole My Girl’. Gloria had been going on about it ever since its release.
    ‘Do you like it then?’ asked Stanley.
    ‘Of course I do.’ Gloria gave him a quick peck on the cheek. It was the first time I’d seen her show Stanley any affection and he flushed with pleasure.
    Next it was Davie’s turn. He was so excited he couldn’t sit still. This was the first present anyone had ever given Davie in his life. His big blue eyes were shining as John helped him untie