Sarah Lean - 3 Book Collection

After registration the sponsored silence volunteers were excused from answering any questions in lessons. Everyone was asked not to distract us.

By ten o’clock Miss Steadman was already looking impressed.

At break-time nobody seemed to mind I wasn’t playing.

At half past twelve all of us volunteers sat on the benches outside to eat our packed lunch in silence. I could see through the tall glass doors into the hall. Mr Crisp the music teacher was auditioning people for the farewell concert. I saw Mia and Daisy standing on the stage together, their mouths opening and closing.

During RE Mrs Brooks came in and winked at me.

At quarter to three Miss Steadman was looking proud. She told us we were all going to a short assembly with Mr Brown.

I’d done it. I’d proved them wrong – Miss Steadman, Mia, Daniel and all the rest of them who didn’t think I could do it. And it should have been over at three o’clock. Only I wasn’t just happy that some poorly children might get to go to Disneyland. The day had passed and I’d not been in trouble, not fallen out with anyone, nobody told me to be quiet. Nobody said anything to me at all.

The twenty-four sponsored silence volunteers were called to the front of the assembly. Children clapped and cheered while Mr Brown showed some pictures of happy children from the Angela’s Hospice website on the screen. He praised us for meeting a difficult challenge, said he would add up the sponsorship money when it was collected and let us know the total by the end of the following week.

“The children from Angela’s Hospice will be very grateful,” he said. “Your silence has helped make their wishes come true. Now you may speak.”

There were big whoops from the other volunteers, coughing and gabbling like mad, saying things like, “That was soooo hard,” and, “I nearly said something when...”

The talking and laughing bubbled everywhere. I wanted to say something. But there was only one thing on my mind, only one person I wanted to say it to. And I could say it inside, could say it without anyone hearing: “Mum, did you find that dog in heaven?”

10.

SATURDAY MORNING ME, LUKE AND DAD TOOK the bus into town. Dad told us to wait outside the bank; there was something important he had to go and do. He’d be about ten minutes. He looked like he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.

We leaned against the wall between the bank and Crumbs the Baker’s, whiffing in the smell of hot pasties, listening to the beeps of the money machine in the wall.

“Wanna go in Game for a minute?” Luke said, nudging me.

As if.

“Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging his sloppy jacket. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed though,” he muttered. “You’re up to something, I can tell.”

Instead I sat on a bench and watched a man in a purple Puffa jacket sitting on the pavement on the other side of the street. One of his old trainers was split and you could see his dirty sock poking out of the hole. He was juggling with some balls of screwed-up newspaper. He had an orange woolly hat to collect money and a cardboard sign leaning against his knee, saying HUNGRY. I thought if he wrote it himself he had quite nice writing. Better than mine anyway.

People passed him by. I suppose he was a tramp and so nobody noticed him. He concentrated on the balls of paper flying through his hands and now and again he looked up when somebody passed him, which made him drop the balls.

Just then a gang of boys, a bit bigger than Luke, and even moodier, stopped and leaned against the wall next to him. They looked over their shoulders. They shifted their feet, stuffed their hands in their pockets and circled the tramp.

The paper balls tumbled into the tramp’s lap. One boy with dark wavy hair kicked the HUNGRY sign over. He laughed and grabbed the woolly hat, scooping the coins out. Small coins trickled from between his fingers, bounced and circled on the pavement.

“Leave him alone!” shouted a big lady wearing an apron, stomping out of the bakery. She waved her arms. “Go on, clear off, he’s done nothing to you.”

The gang looked at her and people slowed and looked at them. The tramp stared at something else down the street.

“I’m calling the police!” she said, rushing back towards the shop.

The boys ran, pushing each other out of the way, making a ripple through the shoppers, shouting rude things. The orange hat got thrown down and people walked right over it.

I went and picked it up.

The tramp was on his knees, collecting the coins off the pavement. The baker-lady from Crumbs came up to me, holding a paper bag stuffed with steaming pies.

“There’s a good girl,” she said, her voice as soft as dough. “Jed’s shy and he wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Came into town a while ago now, looking for somebody I think.” She smiled like she had the tramp in her heart, then sighed. “Poor man. All he seems to have found is a lot of bother with those troublesome boys.”

She shook her head and handed me the bag. “Go on,” she said, “you give them to Jed. I’d better be getting back to the counter.”

I had to crouch down to get Jed’s attention because he was busy packing all his things into carrier bags. Then he did that thing when you look away and then look back again quickly, like you didn’t realise who it was or what was happening first of all. I heard him take a sharp breath.

I had my pocket money in my hand and held it out for Jed to see. I opened the hat and dropped the coins in, but he didn’t look at them. I could tell he was really glad because he stared right into my eyes and smiled. His eyes were lovely, silver-warm and sparkling. A rush of air came from his mouth because he had been holding his breath, and now he was so relieved and happy to have his money back.

Then Luke was there, pulling at my arm and saying, “What’re you doing, Cally? Come on, you know what Dad thinks!”

Dad said tramps had a choice just like everyone else. We weren’t allowed to give them money. They chose to live on the streets. They’d made their own problems and had to sort them out themselves.

“You didn’t buy him food as well, did you?” Luke whispered through his teeth. “Dad’ll go mad!”

Jed didn’t say anything; he just stood there and kept smiling. He had surprisingly white teeth. So I smiled back. It was kind of like talking but not talking. I didn’t know what we were saying, but it was something nice. Then, just like that, he handed me his HUNGRY sign. His loose sole scuffed along the pavement as he walked away.

“What’s the matter with you?” said Luke, dragging me away. “Dad’s coming!”

I followed his eyes, saw Dad coming down the steps of the bank, leafing through a pile of papers.

“All right, kids?” he said. “What you been up to?”

Luke frowned and took a deep breath. “Nothing much,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“What’s that you got there?” Dad said to me, rolling his papers into a tube. I held the tramp’s sign up to show him.

“Just what I was thinking. How about pizza then?” he said, looking over his shoulder at Pizza Palace.

But it wasn’t the red tablecloths and drippy candles in the window of Pizza Palace that caught my eye. It was a red raincoat. Mum was standing by The Music Shop on the other side of Pizza Palace. She put her face close to the window and looked inside. And then, just when the tramp came past her, she joined him, walked alongside him. They turned into the alleyway, side by side.

11.

DAD STILL HADN’T NOTICED I WASN’T TALKING, didn’t say anything when I pointed at the picture of the ham and mushroom pizza on the menu.

“Why did you bring us here?” said Luke, chomping tomato mush.

“You like pizza, don’t you?” said Dad, not looking up.

“Yeah, but I mean we don’t normally go out for pizza.”

Dad wiped his mouth and hands with his napkin, took ages to answer. Eventually he said, “Just thought you needed a treat, that’s all.”

“Why, what’s happened?”

“Can’t I just take you out?” Dad snapped.