Tommy knew he was in for it nownot from the school bully, Jake, but from his own mum.
He whistled as he walked home, but his chest tightened. Oh, he was going to get it good this time.
Auntie Rose, his mums best mate, had seen him with a cigarette. He couldve lied, said someone handed it to him, but noAuntie Rose had seen it right between his lips. What was he supposed to tell his mum? That someone shoved it in his mouth and told him to puff like it was a lollipop?
Tommy pretended not to notice Auntie Rose, and thankfully, she didnt scream or clip him round the ear. She just gave him a long look and walked off. But Tommy wasnt dafthe *knew* shed already told his mum, who was probably waiting with the wooden spoon. He was on his third lap around the block when he spotted Nana.
Oh, brilliant. Heavy artillery. This was a forbidden movenow Nana would start wailing about how she was a respected headmistress, how shed raised hundreds of children, yet failed her own grandson. How ashamed she was. How Grandad was turning in his gravealong with every ancestor before him.
When Tommy was little, that used to terrify him. Hed imagine the ground shifting as the dead rolled over in protest. Then one day, hed had enough. The next time Nana brought up the ancestors, hed said, *”Well, at least they wont get bedsores like Jakes nan.”*
Nana clutched her chest. Mum howled with laughter, forgetting all about the spoonand *she* got whacked with a tea towel for it.
Now, Nana was bustling toward him.
*”What are you doing out here? Why arent you home?”* Her eyes darted like *she* was the one caught smoking. *”Had a row with your mum?”*
*”No… I havent even been home yet.”*
*”What dyou mean? Whereve you been all this time?”*
*”School, then football, then… walking.”*
*”Right.”* Here it comes, Tommy thought. Shed tell him to breathe in her face, then the interrogation would start. *”Whats this? Look at your handsred raw! Where are your gloves? *Where?*”*
*”Left em at home, Nan.”*
*”At *home*? And your mum didnt check? Whats *wrong* with her? Show me your legs!”*
She yanked up his trouser leg and gasped.
*”Whats *this*?”*
*”What, like…?”* Tommy panicked.
*”Why are your ankles red? Where are your thermals? And your *scarf*?”*
Mortified, Tommy spotted Jake watching from the alley, his bright red cap bobbing. Oh, *cheers*, Nan. Who asked her? Was she losing it? Shed always been sharpwas this dementia or something?
*”Nan… whats five times five?”*
*”Twenty-five,”* she said, bewildered.
*”Whats the square of the hypotenuse?”*
*”The sum of the squares of the other two sides… Thomas? Are you *failing* maths? She didnt even check your homework? Oh, I *wont* stand for thislook at the state of you!”*
Waitwas Nan on *his* side? Maybe hed avoid a lecture after all. Had he slipped into a parallel universe? Was his nan even his nan?
*”Nan, which sides my appendix scar on?”*
*”You *dont* have onethey never took yours out.”*
Okay, she was definitely his nan.
She dragged him home, huffing and puffing. Mum was there, the kitchen smelling of roast. She wore her best dress, new earrings, and*since when did she wear heels at home?*
*”Tommy-love…”* She hugged him. *”Wash up, dinners ready. Mum, you staying?”*
*”Whys this child wandering the streets? Too scared to come home, is he? *This* is what happens when youwhere are his gloves? His *thermals*? Its freezing! But no, *you* dont carewhy would you? Youve got your”*
*”Mum. *Stop.* Are you eating with us or not?”*
*”No! Im *done* here. And yknow what?”* She turned to Tommy. *”Pack your things, love. Youre coming with me.”*
*”Why, Nan?”*
*”To *live*, Tommy. With me.”*
*”I dont *wanna*”*
The thought of Nan nagging him foreverno *thanks*.
*”Mum, Tommys staying *here*. With his *family*.”*
*”What family? You threw it all away! Thomas, *pack*.”*
*”Mum, if you dont stop, IllIll have to”*
*”What? *What*? Kick your own mother out?”*
*”YES!”*
*”You ungratefulafter all Ive *done*”*
Mum didnt let her finish. She grabbed Nan and *marched* her out, slamming the door.
Nan screeched about calling the police, about Tommy *belonging* to her, about some prison guard.
Mum hauled Tommy into the living roomwhere a bloke sat stiffly, eyeing him.
*”Tom… no lies. This is your dad.”*
Nan pounded the door, wailing. Mum stood frozen. The mantall, thin, with Tommys eyesstood and held out a shaky hand.
*”Hello… son.”*
Tommy backed into the door.
*”But… you *died*…”*
*”Toni…”* The man looked at Mum, crushed.
*”That wasnt *me*, Rob. That was *her*. She said itd be easier than… than him knowing youd”*
The doorbell rang. Pounding.
*”Policeopen up!”*
*”Toni, maybe I should go…”*
*”No. *Enough* hiding. Tom, well explainjust *wait*”*
Mum opened the door.
In stormed Nan, a constable, and nosy neighbours.
*”Weve had reports of a disturbance”*
*”Nothings wrong. Just family dinner. My husbands home from Aberdeenmeet my son.”*
*”But your mother”*
*”Hes a *convict*! Arrest him! Tommy, come *here*did he hurt you?”*
*”Mum, stop *embarrassing* me!”*
The constable checked Dads ID.
*”Any prior convictions?”*
*”None. Worked offshore since school.”*
*”Apologies, maam.”*
*”Arrest him! He *ruined* my girlshe couldve had *anyone*”*
*”Mum, *enough*!”*
The door shut.
A *dad*? Eleven years without onewhy *now*? He had Mum. Nan. A *living* dadbut Nan said hed died in a pub brawl, a *repeat offender*. A *shameful* secret.
Turns out… theyd all lied.
Mum explainedhow shed fallen for Dad, how Nan disapproved. Hed left for work, Mum stayed with Tommy… then Nan *wrote* to Dad, pretending Mum had remarried. Dad sent a furious reply, moved on with someone else… Mum divorced him.
Theyd reconnected three years ago. Dad lived alonehed left the other woman, unable to lie about loving her.
*”Why?”* Tommy asked Nan. *”*Why?*”*
*”I wanted… happiness. For her. For *you*.”*
*”What about *him*?”*
*”Im… sorry.”*
On Tommys birthday, he invited Jakehis *best* mate nowwho gave him a Nirvana poster. And Mum *let* him hang it up.
Not Jakethe *poster*.
Tommy forgave them all. Nan, his parents.
*”Grown-up stuff,”* Jake had said.
And when Nan found out Jake lived alone, she *adopted* himfed him pies, stews. He started acing maths.
Theyve been like brothers ever since. Still sing *Smells Like Teen Spirit* at barbecues, still eat baked beans on toast like its gourmet.
And Dad? Tommy loves him. Hes got half-siblings nowthey all get on. But with Tommy? Theres something *special*.
Some bonds just cant be broken. Not by time. Not by lies. Not even by Nans dramatics.
