Читать книгу Things the Eye Can't See - Penny Joelson - Страница 10

4

I don’t manage to catch Kyle after Maths or Geography. I must do it today. I got the sense from Charlie that it was urgent, important, and I can’t bear the thought of still having the note at home tonight, worrying about it.

I decide I’ll go to the resource room to eat my lunch. That’s where the students who need extra support go – and I used to go there before I got friendly with Madz. There’s people from all year groups. Sometimes I feel like I’m part of two worlds. In the resource room, you never have to explain or justify. People can just be whoever they are. It’s a more caring, protected world.

I used to love the break from the challenges of all my lessons, so many students and different rooms to get used to. The dining hall terrified me back in Year 7. Even when I made friends with Madz, it took a lot of coaxing to get me in there. The real world is far more hostile and challenging, but also more interesting, with way more opportunities. I’m used to it now – and having Samson has made it easier too. But today I don’t feel up to the challenge.

‘Libby! It’s Libby!’

I am greeted like a long-lost friend, although unsurprisingly someone is sitting in the seat that I used to consider mine. Also unsurprisingly, the main fuss is over Samson, rather than me. I hear him sniffing as the smells of tuna and cheese and onion crisps waft through the air.

‘Can I stroke your dog?’

‘Can I?’

‘Just keep your lunches out of his reach,’ I tell them. ‘Or he might think you’re offering him a treat.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Samson.’

‘Hi Libby, it’s Jenny,’ says the learning support teacher. ‘How are you getting on? We haven’t seen you in here for ages. And how’s Samson?’

‘He’s made a huge difference,’ I tell her. ‘I feel much more confident now I have him. I just thought I’d pop in and visit you guys.’

I don’t want to admit that I’m here because I feel nervous without Madz. And I’m not exactly sure how I’m getting on, now I have a mission to deliver a note for a boy no one’s seen for six months.

‘It’s nice to have you here,’ says Jenny. ‘I’m making arrangements for support for your English class theatre trip. I’ll let you know when I’ve got more information.’

‘Thanks,’ I tell her.

‘We’ve missed you!’ says a voice. I have to think for a bit to work out who it is.

‘Is that Dylan?’ I ask.

‘Yes. Had you forgotten me?’

Dylan has Muscular Dystrophy. ‘No – but you sound a bit different.’

‘His voice has broken,’ says Rafique.

‘Yeah – I’m a man now, eh?’ says Dylan.

‘You don’t exactly talk like a man,’ Rafique teases. ‘It’s not just the deep voice. It’s what you actually say. No offence, mate.’

‘None taken,’ says Dylan, laughing.

‘Libby, come and sit over here and meet Josie,’ says Jenny. ‘She’s in Year 7 and she’s losing her sight. I know that’s very different, but it might inspire her to see how well you manage.’

‘OK,’ I say, though I feel awkward. ‘Hi Josie.’

‘Hi. Your dog is lovely!’ Josie’s voice sounds young, but without much emotion. ‘Are you completely blind?’ she continues. ‘Do you mind me asking?’

I explain the little that I can see.

‘I don’t know how you do it,’ she comments. ‘I’ve only had sight in one eye for the last two years and now that’s going too. I can’t imagine life without being able to see at all.’

‘It isn’t easy,’ I tell her, ‘and you’ll have to adjust. It’s different for me because I’ve never known anything else. But you can still have friends, go out, study, get a job. My mum always tells me the only thing that will limit me is my self-belief. If I really want to do something, then I’ll find a way.’

‘You’re so upbeat,’ says Josie. ‘I’m glad you came in here. I’ve been feeling really down.’

‘Well, if you ever want to talk, just ask me,’ I tell her. ‘And maybe think about getting a guide dog. I highly recommend it. Samson’s brilliant company as well as my guide. Some people prefer a cane. It’s less work, but you can’t cuddle a cane when you feel low.’

‘Thanks Libby,’ says Josie.

After I’ve eaten my lunch and all eight people in the room have stroked Samson, I get up to leave.

‘Thank you,’ Jenny says quietly, as I reach the door. ‘I think you were just what Josie needed today.’

I feel happy to have been of help to someone else for a change, and I’m glad I came in. Now it’s time to help Charlie. And to do that, I have to find Kyle.

‘You’re really OK about me and Ollie?’ Madz asks as we walk to art. ‘You’ve been a bit quiet all day.’

‘Just thinking about my project.’ I’m keeping Charlie’s note a secret for now, like I promised. I do trust Madz, but she might accidentally let something slip to Ollie, and I hate the idea of that.

Madz is doing pottery for her art project so she’s in the room next door. I arrange my half-completed painting on the table near the window with the best natural light, along with the flower photo I am painting from and my magnifier. Miss Afia helps me with the paints. I love the smell of the art room – oil paints and turps. Kyle, who is also doing a painting project, usually sits at the back. I look around, trying to place him, but can only see blurred shapes moving around the room.

‘There’s a space here,’ Miss Afia calls to someone. ‘Next to Libby. Do try to be on time!’

‘D’you need any colours, Libby? I’m just getting some for myself,’ comes a voice. It sounds like Kyle. I turn to see the tall blur of him standing by the next table. I nearly fall off my stool. The tables at the back must already be taken because he’s late.

This is my moment. I should give him the note. The art room is big – everyone is spread out. No one will notice. But I feel weird: panicky, frozen to the spot.