black person in the room and a white person tries to point me out – “That lady over there by the water cooler.” “That lady with the red jumper.” Woohoo guys! The woman with the black skin. It’s not a disease! I’ve had over forty years to get used to it so I won’t be surprised if you call me black and rush to look in a mirror. I promise!’
I wasn’t going to be that person. I climbed out of the car, doing a half-wave in the direction of his friends. ‘Hi there.’
Victor said, ‘Dan’s asked me to stay at his tonight. I could get a train back tomorrow, in time for rugby?’
I tried to sound self-deprecating and jokey, asking, ‘What time’s the match? Is your kit clean?’ as though I knew it was silly to be fussing over trifling details.
‘Two o’clock. The kit’s in my bedroom. I also want to pop in on Granddad,’ Victor said in a tone that pleaded to be allowed to do it.
His mates were fidgety, eager to be on their way, to dive into their weekend, to get the lowdown on Victor’s new life. I had no idea if we’d come out of it well.
Patrick had his phone out, looking for train times. ‘You should definitely try and see your granddad. Give him our regards. If you get the 8.55, I could pick you up from Crawley at 12.48.’
‘How much is the ticket?’ I asked, unwilling to let Victor just disappear off with these boys I didn’t know. Whose parents I didn’t know.
Victor pulled a face as though I was just delaying them unnecessarily, bouncing on the spot with impatience.
Patrick got out his wallet, huffing irritably as though I’d destroyed his street cred in front of Victor’s friends.
‘You’ve got a railcard, right?’ I asked.
Victor shook his head. I felt a scorch of self-consciousness that made me want to dive back into the car, away from these lads who looked so much more clued-up than the boys at Phoebe’s school. A Young Person’s Railcard was the territory of parochial women like me, concerned with making savings, not spending unnecessarily, someone who’d buy from a solid high-street store, whose first thought was about durability and quality rather than style. So far removed from these lads, who were way too trendy to bother with anything as mundane as a debate about cheaper rail fares.
So I could have hugged the one with a wild mass of corkscrew curls who said, ‘Get with it, Victor. You’re wasting money. You get a third off, man.’ He looked over at me and threw his hands in the air. ‘More money than sense, huh?’
I did an over-enthusiastic nod and forced out a squeaky-sounding, ‘You tell him.’
Patrick unfolded a bundle of twenty-pound notes, which made me cringe. I wished he’d discreetly slipped Victor the money rather than giving the impression that Victor was living in a household where our pockets were stuffed with wodges of cash. I tried not to have the thought, but I couldn’t stop it – I hoped they weren’t going to go to some seedy pub and blow the lot on dope.
With blinding clarity, I realised I was just as bigoted as those old duffers who complained about foreigners ‘taking our jobs’ in the village shop, and then said, ‘We don’t mean boys like Victor, of course,’ as though he’d passed some invisible test that we hadn’t known he was taking. I’d been living in my blinkered little village for too long. I had absolutely no evidence that Victor – or this group of mates – had taken a drug in their lives. Of all people, I should be above tabloid stereotypes.
With a cheerfulness I didn’t feel, I clapped my hands together and said, ‘Right. We’ll get off then. Have a great time. Be careful. And I’ll see you tomorrow. Text us when you’re on the train.’
Victor was already turning to his friends.
I forced myself to speak up, to be better than I was. ‘And if any of you fancy popping to visit Victor in Stedhurst, you’d be very welcome.’
They all mumbled a thank you, though I couldn’t help feeling they were secretly going, ‘No chance.’
By the time I got back into the car, the emotion of the day weighed me down. Patrick was in the mood to chat, upbeat, convinced the day had been a difficult one but ultimately a success.
‘Great that he’s letting his hair down tonight with a few old friends. He’s done a fantastic job