Barefoot and Lost (18 page)

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Authors: Brian Francis Cox

BOOK: Barefoot and Lost
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     ‘You were brilliant, what made you think of saying something at the funeral?’

     ‘I don’t know
Jack
, it just came out but it’s a good idea don’t you think? And telling Mam we wanted him to give us a HAND, that was hilarious, I couldn’t stop giggling.’

     ‘I think Mam knows what is going on with
Flynn
; did you see the look in her eyes when you said hand, especially as you nearly shouted it?’

     ‘Can’t say that I did
Phil
; if she knows, why would she let it happen?’

     ‘Maybe she suspects and is not sure, so she makes out it’s not, or worse she is in on it, they could all be into it.’

     ‘I honestly don’t think so
Phil
, I think it is only
Flynn
, and we have him scared, so he will be very careful from here on.’

     ‘
I hope you’re right, because then when Pop gets my letter that should finish it.

     ‘I can’t stop laughing. Did you see how he ran when I started shouting?’

     ‘Yeah
he nearly fell down the stairs.’

     ‘Wish he had he might
’ve
of broken his bloody neck.’

     ‘Or his fucking dick, there that’s twice I’ve used that word today.’ We all burst into laughter.

 

     Filing out of the dining hall after lunch, we can see
Flynn
, at his usual post by the door, saying sweet nothings to his favourites but, as he sees us approaching he finds he has something more important to do over where Mam and the Reverend are seated on the stage.

 

   
Jack
really has a taste for it now he calls after
Flynn
, ‘
Mr.
Flynn
we want you to COME over here and give us a HAND.’
Flynn
makes out he hasn’t heard, we can see that he has, his movement gives him away.

 

     Mam calls ‘
Brian
,
Phillip
,
Jack
, and Toby all of you come over here.’ Toby draws a deep breath. ‘Oh shit, we are in for it now.’
Flynn
has heard and can see us coming over. I can see he doesn’t know what to do; we really have him scared. He finally decides to collect a few dirty plates
from a table furthest from the stage this is something he never does.

 

     Mam speaks, ‘I have spoken to The Reverend, during lunch about our little talk this morning, he agrees it would be a nice gesture, he will tell you what he has in mind.’

     The Reverend steps down from the stage ‘Thank you Mam; now boys, I think it would be inappropriate to say anything about your relationships as friends with Lionel, that is personal and needn’t be passed on to strangers, therefore I suggest, no, I will allow one of you to recite the twenty third psalm at the church on Monday, subject of course to the vicar approving it, you choose between you who it will be. Tomorrow, at our memorial service, once again one of you can read a passage composed by all of you of no more than fifty words, and subjected to vetting by me.’

     ‘Can we say what we like?’

     ‘No Snell you can’t, it will not be detrimental to
Saint
Stephens
or any member of staff and, most of all, it is not to mention his foolhardy absconding, and his subsequent demise, is that clear?’

     ‘Yes Reverend, but I don’t understand, isn’t demise the same as dead,
Lionel
is dead isn’t he?’

     ‘Snell, do not be insolent with me, now go and start composing, have it to me by supper.

    If I am unhappy with what you intend to say you will have to revert to reciting the twenty third Psalm, is that clear?’

     ‘Yes Reverend.’

     ‘Good, now go about your business.’

 

     ‘That doesn’t give us much to say, he’s bloody frightened we will say something bad about this place.’

     ‘Wouldn’t make any difference if we could Brian, we are only allowed to say it here so there will
be no one from outside to hear, it
would be different if we could say it at the funeral.’

     ‘You’re right
Jack
, so who is going to volunteer to speak at the funeral?’

     ‘You should
Brian
because you’re the oldest and you have known Lion longer.’

     ‘No, you would be better at it
Phil
.’

     ‘I am not going to say the twenty third psalm; I don’t believe in God anymore, he doesn’t listen to me when I pray so I don’t want to speak in church.’

  
‘Bloody hell Phil, do you pray?’

     ‘No, not anymore Brian the last time I prayed was when I saw Lion get in the boot of that car and I prayed for God to keep him safe so, no, I don’t pray; tell you what, I will write something for the memorial service and read it there if one of you does the funeral reading.’

 
   

     Toby says ‘I nominate
Brian
.’
Jack
agrees

     ‘So do I Toby.’

     ‘Okay I’ll do it, but I warn you I’m not a very good reader.’

     ‘That’s settled then,
Brian
does the church, and I’ll read it here in Chapel. I had better go to the library, to get some peace and quiet, so I can concentrate on what to write.’

 

     After several attempts to get started I’ve used four pages of
Peter
’s exercise book. If I had a rubber it would help, but with all the crossing out it looks a mess, I think I am going to give up and say the psalm, as much as I don’t want to. Taking the Talisman from the shelf I continue to read chapter thirteen,
Sir
Kenneth
follows the dwarf avoiding the so
ldiers and sneaks into a tent.
He can hear the dwarf and the Queen talking and realizes he has been tempted away from his post for some kind of a conspiracy ------ A thought comes to my head and I start to write:

 
    

 
   

     
Rest in peace
Lionel
Bates
,

     Affectionately called Lion
,
by his mates.

     Lion never knew his Mum,

    
Mam
Miller
became his Mum in lieu,

     She had a soft spot for him and loved him true.

     Lion never knew his Dad,

    
Mr.
Flynn
became his Dad and loved him too,

     But in a way only some fathers do.

    
Brian
,
Jack
, Toby, and
Phil
,

     We are his mates and love him still,

     Rest in peace dear
Lionel
Bates
.

 
   

     ‘
I’ve done it, what do you think?’
Brian
takes the note book from me and begins to read, the others looking over his shoulder. ‘You haven’t mentioned me; I was one of his mates as well you know.’

     “I’m sorry
Peter
, I didn’t think because you won’t be here, I can add you in, no trouble at all; so what do you think?’

     ‘I think it’s great, they will never guess what you are saying.’

     ‘
Phil
, can I make a suggestion? If you change some fathers do to some fathers will, it will then rhyme with
Phil
.’

     ‘Brilliant Toby, why didn’t I think of that okay I’ll change it and add you as well
Peter
.’

 

      Supper is over, I’ve handed my poem to the Reverend. With baited breath and fingers crossed behind my back, I’m waiting for his reaction. He is taking ages, then hands it to Mam, she reads it, then reads it out aloud. ‘What do you think
Mrs.
Miller
?’

     ‘I think it is beautiful, who wrote it?’

     ‘I did Mam.’

     ‘I have a feeling this is written with innuendo; is it
Snell
?’

     “No Reverend, I wrote it by myself, a couple of words were changed by the others but that was all.’

     ‘Innuendo means, saying one thing but meaning something else.’

     ‘No Reverend, I mean everything I have written.’

     ‘I believe you have
Phillip
, I did have a soft spot for
Lionel
and did try to fill the place of a mother.’

    
What about Mr.
Flynn
, I didn’t know that he and Bates were particularly close?’

     ‘Yes Reverend, they were very close in the beginning.
Lionel
told us all about, how
Mr.
Flynn
had helped him to grow. But when younger boys came here,
Mr.
Flynn
paid more attention to them.
Lionel
said he didn’t mind because he thought
Mr.
Flynn thought of him as grown up now, and that the younger boys needed his helping hand more.’

     ‘I see, you learn something every day what do you think
Mrs.
Miller
?’

     ‘I think it is a lovely tribute to both staff and his friends.’

     ‘Then I will allow it who will be reading it and who is doing the reading at the funeral?’

     ‘I will Reverend and
Brian
is doing the funeral.’

     ‘Well done, now go about your business.’

 

     Back in the dorm the others can’t believe we are allowed to read what we have written.  

     ‘Didn’t query anything, nothing at all?’

     ‘Well
Brian
, he asked about
Flynn
, and said he didn’t know they were that close, I told him he helped Lion grow, I didn’t say which bit though.’

      ‘You’re a bloody laugh
Phil
.’

 

     The Chapel is overflowing, the kids from St Gab’s are here, and parked at the front is the green
Humber
. I want to go and ask the driver, ‘Why did you lock the boot?’ but I’m not sure if it is the same man, as this one is wearing a grey uniform and he looks taller.

Rachel
is here, she catches my eye, gives that little wave from the hip and that wonderful smile that makes me tingle. I do so hope I will get a chance to speak to her today.

 

     The service is nice; the reverend says a few words about Lion. To hear him speak you would have thought Lion was his son and not someone that had disgraced St S’s and a boy that he had thrashed so hard a few weeks ago. Reverend Panama Hat says a prayer and then says a few words about Lion being a vibrant young man with a bright future ahead of him. What a load of rubbish, he didn’t even know him. 

 

     I get my moment of glory; it seems strange standing at the lectern, looking at all those faces looking up at me. I can see, at the back, Bloody Auntie Mavis and
Jill
. There is someone here from outside after all, so I read my poem to them. Everyone sings-
(that is except me I am still not friends with God. Why should I talk and sing to him if he won’t listen to me when I need him) -
‘All things bright and Beautiful’, then they sing the ‘Twenty third psalm’ and, as always finish with the Lords Prayer.       

     
 

      I’m helping
Peter
carry his gear downstairs, to where Auntie Mavis and
Jill
are waiting beside an old grey Triumph Gloria tourer, with its hood down. The case is dropped into the dickey seat,
Peter
gives me a hug, ‘I wish you could come with me’

     ‘It wouldn’t be right for me to come with you but, who knows, someone may come for me before long.’

     ‘
Phil
, just to let you know your letter was posted last Monday so your friend should have it by now; I hope it all works out for you.’

     ‘Thanks for doing that Auntie Mavis; hope that’s okay, I don’t know what else to call you.’

     ‘Auntie Mavis is fine by me I consider that an honour to be called your aunt. Bye, bye Phil, take care.’ Peter and Jill clamber into the back Auntie M sits beside the driver then
with a crunch of gears, the Gloria glides out onto the road.  

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