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Chapter 6

Hero

Blood splattered the bathroom sink where it had dripped from Hero’s mouth, forming long rivulets and circling the plughole, the deep red contrasting with the white of the porcelain.

‘You know, you make me laugh, bruv. You say you don’t want to be a hero, and there you are standing up to four guys much bigger than you. Sounds like a hero to me.’

Hero looked up into the mirror at James, who was standing in the doorway.

‘What was it you said? “I heard your nan gave birth to your mum by taking a shit.”’ James laughed so hard that he had to steady himself against the door frame. ‘That’s genius, bruv. I’m definitely stealing that one for later usage.’

Hero grinned, then regretted it immediately when his split lip reopened. Blood welled over his teeth, filling his mouth with a warm, metallic taste.

‘So why were those guys bullying you, anyway?’

Hero grabbed some loo roll, packed a wad of paper between his lip and his teeth, and began recounting the last few weeks, starting with standing in the music room next to Fi after their first class there.

‘Hey. So what instrument did you pick?’ she asked.

‘Piano,’ he replied.

‘Can you play?’

‘A little.’

‘What grade are you?’

He shuffled his feet. ‘I took my grade eight last year.’

‘Wow. Would you play for me?’

‘Sure. What instrument do you play?’

‘The violin. I’m not too good, though. So how about tomorrow?’

‘Eh?’

She was grinning at him. ‘Will you play for me tomorrow at lunchtime?’

‘Wait, wait, wait,’ James interrupted from behind.

Hero dragged himself back to the present.

‘You pulled a girl on your first day at school? Man, you’re my hero, buddy. Go on.’

Hero grinned tentatively, mindful of his lip, and took a deep breath. ‘Well, the next day, lunchtime arrived, and we met outside the music building.’

Fi’s hair bounced as she ran over, and Hero’s heart seemed to jump in rhythm to it.

‘Hey, how’s your day going?’ he called.

‘Boring,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And yours?’

‘Okay. Still seems easy. Shall we?’

Upstairs in one of the practice rooms, he sat down at the piano and swallowed dryly. The fur on his tongue had absorbed every drop of moisture in his mouth, and the heat in his face was hoovering the energy from his trembling hands.

‘So, any requests?’ he croaked.

She shrugged. ‘Anything.’

‘Well then, I think you’ll like this.’ He launched into Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.

‘Whoa,’ she murmured.

He played all of the most famous part, the part he knew she would be familiar with and appreciate.

‘You know, Beethoven was losing his hearing when he composed this piece, and you can hear the sadness in his heart all the way through it.’ He looked out of the window to hide the rush of emotion. ‘Imagine that. You dedicate your whole life to your one true love, your passion, and then through no fault of your own, it’s ripped away from you. I don’t think I could handle that.’

He glanced back. She was watching him intently with shining eyes.

‘This next piece is different.’ His smile trembled as he gathered the music in his head. His throat and chest tightened in antici­pation. Then deliberately, as the piece demanded, he began ‘Meine Freuden’.

The electricity of the music drew her like a magnet to lean closer over the keyboard.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

She moved sideways so that she was looking directly into his eyes.

He could nearly feel the heat from her blushing cheeks; he was mesmerised. She closed her eyes and pushed her lips against—

‘Whoa, bruv.’ James leaned back, amazed. ‘So your second day at a mixed school, and you got your first kiss? I am so proud of you. C’mere.’ He opened his arms for a hug.

Hero obliged, wrapping his arms around his brother.

‘Growing up fast, eh, buddy?’ James ruffled his hair. ‘So tell me—and I’m pretty certain I know where this is going—what did that have to do with Martin?’

‘Well, that day after school, I was putting my books back into my locker . . .’

‘Hey, Hero.’

There was a little laughter. He turned around to see Martin and his three friends.

‘I hear you’ve been getting it on with Fi,’ Martin said.

Wow, good news spread fast. He shrugged and gave what he hoped was a humble, friendly smile.

‘Stay away from her. She’s mine.’ Martin loomed over him, blocking what little light there was in the corridor.

‘I’m not sure you can really own people, you know.’

With no warning, Martin shoved him backwards against the lockers and held him there by the throat. Hero struggled for breath. His head felt as if it were going to explode, thumping in time to his heartbeat.

‘Don’t talk back to me. Just stay away from her, you little shit.’

Martin dropped him to the floor and stomped off with his friends.

‘So why didn’t you just stay away from her?’ James enquired.

‘Well, I did. But then Fi asked me why I was ignoring her. She was worried that I didn’t like kissing her. So I told her that I really enjoyed it and wanted to do it again, but Martin—’

‘As I thought,’ James muttered. ‘So she told Martin to leave you alone?’

Hero nodded.

‘And that made him even more angry?’

He nodded again.

‘You’re growing up real fast, bruv. Girls will be the end of us all, you know.’ James paused for a moment, tapping his finger against his lips. ‘Look, from now on, I’ll be watching over you. I’ll always be there to protect you. But just in case I’m a bit late, remember these rules: Sometimes you stand and fight. Sometimes you do nothing. And sometimes you run, brother.’

Hero dabbed at his lip dubiously. ‘I’ve never seen you run from a fight.’

‘I never run from a fight if I know I can win. But trust me, if I was up against four guys who were bigger, stronger, and faster than me, I’d be out of there so fast my knees’d be up by my ears.’

Hero laughed, and his lip burned. ‘Ahhh, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.’ Sick from the warm taste of blood, he began applying antiseptic cream to his cuts.

James pointed to more blood at the edge of one nostril. ‘You’re lucky they didn’t break your nose. You’ve still got your looks, at least. Are your hands hurt?’

Hero held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. ‘All fine.’

‘I know what’ll make you feel better. Come on.’ He motioned Hero to follow him.

They went downstairs to the sitting room, where James sat down at the piano and started playing ‘The Entertainer’. Every so often, he deliberately played out of key and looked at Hero quizzically.

Hero burst into laughter.

‘Come on, bruv, sit down. Join me.’ James scooted to the left side of the piano bench, still playing. Hero took the upper notes, leaving the lower ones to James. They continued playing the song out of key, a task made more difficult by their hilarity.

‘You see, bruv? Everything will be okay because we can always laugh together. Let’s try something else.’

James began the next song. Hero recognised ‘Nuvole Bianche’ and joined in. The notes travelled between them like a wind, an energy moving backward and forward, binding them together. Hero felt as if their combined souls were riding on the ebb and flow of the music.

As they finished, James slipped an arm around Hero. He responded in kind.

‘I’ll always be there for you, bruv,’ James said solemnly, ‘and you’ll always be there for me.’

The pain and terror of the day ground inside Hero like gears forced to shift without a clutch. Tears welled like oil, a beautiful, warm fluidity that slid up into his throat. The dam inside him broke, and the water tore through the valley of his soul and rushed out though his eyes, burning his face, dripping onto the piano keys. The sheer force of it caused him to shake uncontrollably.

James wrapped his other arm around Hero to complete the embrace. ‘It’s okay, bruv. Everything’s going to be okay.’

Finally, the waters subsided. The birds in the valley were still silent with shock, but Hero knew that they would sing again. Soon.

‘Go upstairs and lie down. I’ll deal with Dad, okay?’

Hero nodded in gratitude and headed for the stairs. What would he do without his brother?

Later that evening there was a knock at the front door. Hero sat down at the top of the stairs, out of sight, as Dad opened it. There was Martin with his father, a man about Dad’s age.

‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ said the man, ‘but I believe your son and mine had a fight earlier this evening, and I wondered if we could talk about it.’

‘Come in,’ Dad replied.

How was he always so calm? James too, for that matter.

Dad led Martin and his father through to the front room. ‘Please, sit down.’

Martin and his father sat, with Dad following suit in the armchair to their left.

‘I prefer Love Island myself.’ Martin’s father grinned as he nodded towards the TV news programme that was summarising the day’s headlines.

Dad switched it off.

Hero scooted into the shadows behind the bannister. Years of experience had taught him he could watch from here without risk of discovery.

Dad raised his eyebrows to signal Martin’s father to proceed.

‘This afternoon, your son James attacked Martin and, well, you can see the results.’

Martin was clearly sporting a broken nose. Hero grinned in the darkness.

‘Really? That doesn’t sound like James.’ Dad got up, went over to the door, and shouted, ‘James, can you come down here please?’

James thumped Hero on the back of the head as he sauntered past him, down the stairs, and into the lounge. ‘Hey, Dad. Ah, Martin, isn’t it? You’ve got some balls showing up here.’

‘Don’t talk like that, James. Out of respect for her.’ Dad nodded apologetically. ‘Martin’s dad tells me you beat up his son earlier this evening.’

‘Well, Dad, before we go any further, I really think you should take a look at this.’ James pulled his phone from his pocket, pressed a button, and held it towards Dad. ‘Et voilà.’

Hero’s stomach tightened as the sounds of the boys bullying him outside school filtered from the tinny phone speakers.

James looked up at Martin and his dad with disgust. ‘“I could shit in your mouth right now”?’ He overenunciated each syllable as if trying to comprehend the true horror of the words.

Dad cleared his throat. ‘Is that really the kind of thing that you teach your son? Does it make you proud that your son behaves like that? It seems to me that James did the right thing in stopping your son from, as he put it, “shitting in Hero’s mouth”.’

Martin sniggered.

His father elbowed him viciously. ‘Shut up. I think kids should work out their own problems, and James shouldn’t just be stepping in on behalf of—Hero, is it? What kind of name is that, anyway?’

‘My son’s name is not your concern.’ Dad crossed to the ornate marble fireplace and slid his finger down the side a black-and-white photo of him and Mum on their wedding day on the mantel. Hero had seen him do this before when he was angry and trying to control himself. ‘But I have three things to say about this. Firstly, I think that as parents, we have a duty to teach our children morality. We have to show them that violence is not an option and bullying is wrong. You can rest assured that I’ll be calling the school tomorrow and explaining the situation to them. They need to protect Hero from your son because, in my opinion, the strong should protect the weak. That’s how things work in our society. Otherwise, it ends up in absolute chaos—a complete breakdown of civilisation.’

He began to pace. ‘Secondly, it wasn’t really Martin against Hero, was it? It was your much older son and his three friends against him. By your ideology, that’s unfair.’ He held out his palm as if to say ‘wait right there.’ Dad always seemed to know instinctively when someone might butt in. He was adept at controlling the conversation like this. ‘And finally, let’s just say for one second that I agree that we should let our children fight. That does beg the question: what are you doing here in my house right now?’

He looked from Martin to his father. ‘I think you two need to leave. Immediately.’

Martin shot up, and his father followed suit.

Hero winced. This is not going to end well—for me.

Martin’s father sneered as they passed in front of Dad. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you? One of these days, I’m gonna give you what’s coming to you.’

Dad jerked his head towards him. ‘No, you won’t.’

‘Yes, I will.’

A shadow befell the room. Even the landing grew cold, as if all the heat in the rooms had dissipated.

‘I promise you—you won’t.’ Dad marched ahead of them with an intense visage and yanked open the door, gesturing for the two of them to leave.

The door closed behind them. The shadow was gone.

Dad shook his bowed head and rubbed his fingers in the crooks of his eyes. He turned to James. ‘Training going well, is it, James?’

James smirked.

‘Let’s have a chat, shall we?’

James glanced up at Hero on the landing. Hero scooted further back into the shadows. The springs of the sofa creaked lightly as they sat.

‘What was that all about?’ Dad sounded pretty serious. ‘Why were they picking on Hero, anyway?’

‘Apparently there’s some girl at school—’

‘Stop—’

There was a beat of silence.

‘Girls will be the end of us all,’ they chanted in unison before dissolving into laughter.

Under cover of their released tension, Hero inched forward again until he could see their faces.

‘I understand why you did what you did, but it’s a bit scary,’ Dad said. ‘I mean, gathering video evidence—what made you think to do that?’

‘Justification, Dad. Every action in this world needs to be justified. We both know that.’

‘Seems I’ve taught you well.’

‘Modest as ever.’

Dad’s face flickered with concern. ‘Violence is not the answer, son. I know I taught you better than that.’

‘These guys don’t understand any other language. I gave them a choice.’

‘What choice? It seemed to me like you confronted them.’

James’s stance changed to utter disdain. ‘They’ve been beating up Hero for weeks now. You must’ve noticed the change in him.’

Dad bowed his head as if tired of confronting pain. ‘I’m not saying that what they did was right, but violence is a last resort. Once you’ve gone there, there’s nowhere else to go, and then it just keeps escalating until one side is completely destroyed. Do you really want to be the kind of person that’s willing to do that?’

James rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not gonna go out of my way to attack somebody, but if they come after me or Hero, then I’ll defend us. We both know the school’s not gonna do anything, and neither are the police. The only time they act is when something really serious happens, like someone’s put in a coma or dies. Do you really wanna wait till then?’

Dad stroked the stubble on his chin. ‘And what’re you going to do if—no, when—they come back? Are you going to be looking over Hero’s shoulder twenty-four hours a day?’

What did Dad mean, ‘when they come back’?

‘We’ve got it covered. The teachers will look out for him. I’ll walk him to and from school. I’ve already sorted it with my gym, no probs. If they catch Hero off guard when I’m not around, I’ve told him to run home as fast as possible. He’s quick enough to outrun these guys.’

‘And if he isn’t?’

‘Then I’ll send a message to them to explain how disappointed I am with their behaviour.’

Dad made a disapproving noise deep in his throat.

‘It would be a meeting that they won’t walk away from,’ James finished.

‘Don’t say that. Please don’t go down that path.’

‘It’ll be okay, Dad.’ He patted Dad’s leg somewhat patronisingly and stood to go.

‘You’re better than this, James,’ Dad called as James took the stairs a cocky two steps at a time.

But James had already passed Hero, disappeared into his bedroom, and closed the door.

I’m causing so much trouble.

Hero crawled back to his room, not daring to lift his head for fear of being seen. He didn’t want to see Dad’s disappointment in him.

Maybe I can be better?

At the end of music class the next day, Fi blocked the doorway as Hero went to leave.

‘Oh God, what happened to your face?’ she asked.

‘Martin. Again.’ He’d been speaking with Fi less and less as the bullying had become worse. Today had been the first day that he’d felt free enough even to smile at her, but now he didn’t want to show her his ugly, broken face.

‘I told that guy to stay away from you.’ She caressed his split lip with her thumb.

He relaxed. It felt good to feel her touch. ‘Well, he didn’t.’

‘Is that why you’ve not been around as much lately?’

He felt himself go bright red. ‘Sorry. Please don’t talk to him again.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m done with that guy after this. It looked like he came off worse, though.’ She grinned.

‘That was James. Look, can I make it up to you? I mean, not talking—’

‘Yes, you can.’ She nodded encouragingly. ‘Tea.’

‘You mean after school?’

‘You told me you live quite close.’ Her smile thawed the thick, icy layer of Martin’s intimidation.

The rest of the day whizzed by. Hero struggled to focus, not out of fear but anticipation. But as he and Fi approached the gates at the end of the day, he was gripped by nerves. James is meeting me by the gates to walk me home. This could be awkward.

James was already waiting and beaming. ‘Hey, bruv. Hey . . . Felicity, isn’t it?’

Please stop smiling, James—and please, for God’s sake, don’t pull any comedy routines.

She looked utterly charmed. ‘Yes, but call me Fi. You’re James, right?’

‘The one and only. It’s good to see you. You two look good together.’

Relief flooded Hero’s limbs. Wow. Thanks, James—you really came through.

During the short walk home, James kept silent for the most part. Hero and Fi exchanged glances and smiles in between looking at their feet. Hero’s heart was racing.

‘Here we are,’ James announced at the last corner. ‘You can make your way home from here, right?’

‘Sure,’ Hero replied.

‘Enjoy your homework, then.’ James sauntered back the way they’d come.

Fi gazed steadfastly ahead. ‘Has he gone yet?’

‘I think so.’ Hero glided one hand around her waist.

Her high cheekbones took on a pale redness, and her lips trembled slightly. He folded himself into her. The beautiful warmth of her soft lips was an electric charge that sent his heart twisting and racing even faster.

She gasped, her lips still against his.

He pulled back and took her hand in his. ‘Come on, then. Let’s have tea.’

Once they were home, Hero felt as if he might have to cut his hand off to separate himself from her. He focused on making tea, as had become his usual homebound duty. The tea was drunk innocently enough, although it did get cold during their many long pauses.

Fi looked at her watch. ‘Oh my God, is that the time? I’ve got to go.’

The way her hair bounced as she stood up was so beautiful. He wouldn’t be able to wait to get to school to see her again. He walked her to the door. ‘Tea and kissing is so much better than tea and biscuits.’

Her eyes widened.

Oh shit. Had he just gone too far?

She smirked and shook her head. ‘Don’t ever become a comedian, Hero.’

But he didn’t think she really minded.

Over the next few days, James came to school with Hero in the morning and accompanied him on his way back home before gym. Although Fi didn’t join them again on their homeward journey, the couple were now an official item at school, regarded with jealousy by their friends.

The bell rang at the end of the school day, and Hero made his way towards the gates, where he knew James would be waiting. It was a cold winter’s afternoon, and the light was fading fast. James was there already, looking agitated.

Hero felt a twinge. I never thanked him, did I? I should say something.

He fell in beside his brother. ‘Hey, thanks for being there for me. Thanks for taking me home every day. It’s made a really big difference.’

‘No worries, mate,’ James said with a grin. ‘One day, I’m sure you’ll return the favour. Anyway, it’s the least I can do for my bruv.’

‘You’re not angry for having to look after me?’

‘Not at all. Why on earth would you think that?’

‘You just seem a bit pissed off, that’s all.’

‘It’s not you, buddy. There’s something in the air.’ James glanced over his shoulder. They’d reached the street where he’d saved Hero a few days before. ‘Something’s coming. Something’s wrong, bruv.’

Hero became aware of the sound of several people running behind them.

James pointed across the road. ‘Go now. Run home as fast as you can.’

‘What?’ He surveyed the area, his eyes darting backward and forward, looking for predators. They’re back—I knew it. They’ll never stop, just like James said.

‘Just do it. Now.’

Hero dashed across the road and rounded the corner towards home. Then he stopped and crouched behind a garden wall, peeking over the top to spy on his brother.

James had turned around to face three well-built men jogging towards him. He fixed his gaze on them, emotionless, looking directly into the eyes of the man at the front.

The group stopped in the middle of the road, directly in front of him.

‘I heard you beat up my little brother last week,’ called the leader. The thug was holding a knife that glinted in the light from the street lamps. One of the others was carrying a wooden baseball bat and the other, a crowbar.

‘I assume you’re talking about that complete tit, Martin,’ James said. ‘He and three other brave lads thought it a great idea to beat up my little brother on a daily basis. Now, what big brother could stand by and let that happen? You must be so proud that Martin and all his mates have got such ginormous balls. What did you say your name was, anyway?’

‘I’m Warren,’ he said, ‘and you won’t be forgetting it. Now it’s your turn to find out what it feels like to be hurt by someone bigger than you.’

James widened his stance. ‘I don’t think so.’

James had that same look in his eyes that Hero remembered from the previous fight. Was he even blinking? He peered through the dusk, trying to see if James’s eyes had any colour.

I don’t think they do. What the hell is going on?

A knot formed in his stomach. He looked again, and James’s eyes looked normal again. But the knot stayed. His heart was racing, even though he was crouched low and still.

Warren waved dismissively. ‘Fuck off, dickhead. Like you said, what big brother could let that go?’

‘I haven’t got time for this,’ James called back. ‘You’ve got weapons. Use ’em or piss off. This is your last chance to walk away.’

‘Shut up, mate. We’re gonna break you up so bad, you’re gonna wish you’d never seen my little brother.’ He glanced at the others. ‘Ryan, Jack—deal with this prick.’

Hero was transfixed. Ryan raised his baseball bat and edged towards James; Jack did the same wielding the crowbar. Ryan brought the bat towards James, but before he could connect, there was a dull, crunching thud. The weapon had connected with Jack’s face instead, which now had a huge dent in it.

Hero recoiled, aghast. James had somehow changed positions with Jack.

Jack staggered a few steps. Then his eyeballs rolled up to the back of his head, and he dropped to his knees and onto his face.

Ryan and Warren looked on, as amazed as Hero. Warren pivoted deliberately towards James. His advance was cut short by a wrenching, tearing sound. He stumbled and let out a burbling scream that seemed to pierce its way out of the side of his throat. His leg was no longer straight; there was a strange, V-shaped angle at the knee. Blood began to spread outwards from the joint, and Hero realised that the leg was broken. He imagined what it must look like under Warren’s jeans, cartilage and bone crawling through the broken skin like blood-soaked maggots.

The knot in Hero’s stomach exploded, and he fell to all fours. With one hand on the wall to steady himself, he vomited a pool of carrot-and-blueberry porridge onto the pavement. The intense sour cheese aftertaste caused him to retch a second time. Somehow, he choked it back, leaving only the emission of a foul burp. He panted as a bead of sweat ran down the length of his nose and dripped off the end.

He heard another dull thud and then, after a long silence, a voice above him. ‘I thought I told you to run home.’

He looked up at James, who held out his hand to help. ‘Come on, bruv, let’s go.’

James pulled him up and set off briskly towards home. Hero craned his neck to see the scene they’d left behind.

‘Don’t look back,’ James ordered. ‘Just keep going.’

He snuck a look at his brother, whose grim face remained focused on the pavement ahead.

Oh, James. What have you done?

Hero pondered the afternoon’s events as he, Dad, and James ate dinner at the kitchen table. In the corner, the TV was blaring out the news.

What happened back there with James and those men? How did he stop them?

With the sickening thud and deathly silence of the fight echoing in his mind, Hero gradually became aware that the reporter was talking about what’d happened today.

‘. . . significant gang violence in Westminster earlier today as police and ambulances were called to a scene of absolute carnage. Three men brutally bludgeoned each other to death using a variety of blunt weapons, including a baseball bat and a crowbar. Police are looking for a fourth man who they think might be a primary witness and are appealing for him or anyone else who may have seen the incident to come forward with any information at this time . . .’

Hero glanced anxiously around the table. Dad was glaring at James, nostrils flared. James refused to meet his eyes.

James couldn’t’ve done it. He’s a good person. I’m sure he’ll tell the police what really happened.

James methodically folded his napkin, set it next to his plate, and left the table.

Won’t he?