HOME VISIT
Bill-E improves over the next few days. He starts talking again, loses that faraway look in his eyes, stops moping around like a zombie. He sings Juni’s praises whenever we meet. Tells me how closely she listens, how she understands him perfectly and says the right things at precisely the right moments.
“I never saw her in action in Slawter,” he says as we trundle out of school, Thursday afternoon. “I didn’t realise how cool she was. I thought it would be weeks, maybe months, before I could smile again. But look at me!” He grins widely. “She’s a miracle worker.”
I smile, slightly strained, ridiculously jealous. I’ve seen Juni every day but our sessions have been brief. She’s spending far more time with Bill-E than me, and when we meet, she talks more about Bill-E’s feelings than my own.
“I feel like I can say anything to her,” Bill-E gushes. “She’s like…” He stops. We’re about to turn a corner. There’s a tramp sitting on the pavement, his back against the wall, head low, face hidden by a bushy beard and straggly hair. Bill-E reaches into his right pocket, then his left. Finds some coins and holds them out. The tramp doesn’t respond immediately, then reaches out without looking up. Bill-E drops the coins into the tramp’s hand and smiles. The tramp doesn’t smile back. Bill-E shrugs and moves on.
“Where was I?” he asks.
“Discussing the miracle worker,” I grunt.
“Oh yes!” And he’s off again, Juni this, Miss Swan that. I want to snap at him to shut up, he’s driving me mad with his fanboy drivel. But that would be cruel and childish of me. And I’d only be saying it because I envy the hours and confidences they share.
Friday. I try getting Juni to take more of an interest in me. I tell her about my parents and Gret, what my emotions were when they were murdered and how I felt after the widescale killing in Slawter. I run her through a few of my grislier nightmares. I expect her to jump at this fresh information and pump me for all the juicy details. But I expect wrong.
“That’s ancient history,” she says. “I don’t think it’s relevant now.”
“But I thought it was all linked,” I splutter. “The past… the present… that what I felt then influences what I feel now.”
“Of course,” she says. “But I believe you’ve dealt with the past adequately. Your nightmares are natural, a healthy way of releasing tension and confronting your fears. I see no reason to reopen old wounds. Don’t you agree?” She waits, one eyebrow raised.
I shift awkwardly in my seat, blushing.
“It’s not a contest, Grubbs,” Juni says quietly. I stare at her uncertainly. “My time isn’t something you need to fight with Bill-E for. My relationship with Bill-E in school is the same as with you—purely professional. I spend more time with him because he needs me more. There are others who need me too. I’ve met with several students over the last week, including Loch’s sister, Reni, at her home.”
“You’ve met Reni?” I ask, startled.
Juni nods. “Like I told you on Monday, I’m not an ordinary school counsellor. My work takes me outside the classroom. Reni is suffering dreadfully. But she’s coping. She’ll be back at school next week. And when she comes, I’ll be spending time with her here. Which means I’ll have even less time for you. That can’t be an issue.”
“Of course it isn’t. I never… I didn’t…”
“It’s all right,” she smiles. “Jealousy is normal, even in a boy your age.”
“I’m not jealous,” I huff.
“Maybe not. But if you are, it’s OK. We can’t help irrational feelings. The important thing is to recognise such feelings and not allow them to fester. I don’t want a rift to develop between you and Billy.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Grubbs,” she interrupts, “I’m being blunt because I respect you. This is how I’d address an adult. If you want, I can treat you like a child and tiptoe around these issues. But if—”
“OK,” I cut in, angry but cool. “It’s no big deal. I understand. I can keep a handle on my…” I scowl, then spit it out. “My jealousy.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Juni smiles, patting my right hand. “Now we have that out of the way, let’s talk some more about Billy and what you, as his best friend, can do to help him manage his pain.”
Marching home, thinking about what Juni said. She saw through me as if I was made of glass and knew exactly how to deal with me. She’s in a different league to Misery Mauch. Every school should have a counsellor like Juni Swan, someone who can really connect with—
A man steps out in front of me and I almost crash into him. I have to take a quick step back. It’s a tramp. He’s standing in the middle of the narrow path that leads from Carcery Vale to my home. He’s staring at me with small, dark eyes. Very hairy. Smells bad. Dressed in shabby clothes which are thirty or forty years out of date. Wears a small posy of flowers in one of his upper button holes—they look ridiculously out of place.
“Excuse me,” I mutter, trying to nudge my way around him. He doesn’t react. I take a more cautious look —we’re alone, nobody in sight, flanked by trees. My warning senses kick in. I prepare to run or fight if needs dictate. But the tramp makes no threatening moves. Just stares at me, saying nothing, hands by his sides, eyes steady.
“Could you…?” I make a sign for him to shift slightly. But still he doesn’t budge. Sighing, I step off to the side, trampling down a patch of nettles. I wave sarcastically at the clear path. The tramp nods at me slowly, then walks past.
Shaking my head, I get on the path again and head for home. I’ve taken no more than five or six steps when I remember the tramp from yesterday, the one Bill-E gave money to. I turn to give this tramp the once-over, wondering if it’s the same guy. But the path is empty. No sign of him. He must have slipped back into the forest. It’s like he disappeared.
Homework. Struggling with a complicated chemistry formula when somebody knocks at the front doors. I gratefully close my textbook and go see who’s there, glad of the excuse for a break.
It’s Juni.
“Hello, Grubbs,” she says nervously. “Is your uncle in?”
“Yeah. But… um… I thought you didn’t want to see him yet.”
“I didn’t.” She laughs thinly. “Then, on my way to my hotel, I found myself taking a left instead of a right and I ended up here.” She shrugs. “I guess the part of me that makes the big decisions thinks it’s time.”
“Do you want me to call him or would you rather go find him yourself?”
“Call him, please. It would be more polite.”
“Dervish!” I bellow, then gesture for Juni to enter. “May I take your coat?” I ask as she steps inside.
“Thank you.” She takes it off and passes it to me. Her fingers tremble as we touch. I think about taking hold of her hand and giving it a friendly squeeze, but before I can Dervish comes trotting down the stairs from his study.
“There’s no need to roar,” Dervish grumbles. “I’m not deaf. I can…”
He sees Juni. Comes to a complete halt, left foot in mid-air. His jaw slowly, comically drops.
“Hello, Dervish,” Juni says, waving awkwardly. “I’m back.”
And they blink at each other like a pair of startled owls.
Two hours later. Dervish and Juni have spent the time shut inside the TV room. I’ve been in the kitchen, where I’m still stuck on the same chemistry problem. Not that I’ve been trying hard. Most of my thoughts have been devoted to Dervish and Juni, and the things they might be discussing.
Part of me wants to creep to the door and eavesdrop, but that would be sneaky and unfair. I’d hate if somebody did that to me, so I’m not going to do it to them.
About half an hour after that, when Juni’s gone to the toilet, Dervish pops into the kitchen. He sticks the kettle on, prepares two mugs, grabs some biscuits, then sits beside me. He’s grinning softly. “You should have told me,” he says but there’s no anger in his tone.
“She asked me not to,” I reply.
