“How old do you think I am, mate?”
“Seventy?” he answered, nodding to himself like he knew he was right.
“Miss Yates has gotten really fat,” a rough-looking kid at the back said.
“Tommy, that’s rude!” the teacher said to him sternly.
Ah. So, this was the infamous Tommy.
“I’m not fat, Tommy. I’m pregnant.”
The other teachers all smiled at her while she rubbed over her little belly. I was surprised she was showing as much as she was at three months. But then again, I suppose you did get bigger with twins.
Yeah, we weren’t doing things by halves. There were two little bundles of joy in there and we’d found out last week that it was two girls. The guy who’d spent half of his life being totally clueless about women was about to be surrounded by them. God help me.
Her parents hadn’t been happy about her being with me, but after hearing about the pregnancy they were slowly coming around. I knew they’d probably always harbour a resentment towards me, and I could deal with that. As long as they treated my girls right. That was all that mattered to me.
“Are you the daddy?” Tommy asked me outright. I liked him all ready. He had no filter, I could tell.
“Yeah, mate. I am.”
“My daddy says you’re the best boxer in Sandland. He said
you could beat anyone.”
Yeah. I liked him.
“Does he like boxing? Your dad?”
Tommy’s face fell and he started to fidget in his seat.
“He doesn’t hit other men like you, but he can hit. Really hard too.”
I saw the change in expression on every adult’s face in the room. One of the teaching assistants stood up and started ushering the children out, making sure they said thank you to me as they left. But Harper, the teacher, and I kept our focus on Tommy. He didn’t move. Just stayed rooted to the floor.
“Does Daddy hit anything in particular?” Harper asked on a whisper as she struggled to kneel down on the floor. I went over to her and sat down with her.
“Mummy. He hits Mummy.”
I put my arm around Harper as I saw the tears well up in her eyes.
“Tommy, does he… does he…” She couldn’t speak, and the teacher, Mrs Turley, had started to cry behind him. So, I jumped in to ask the question she couldn’t get out.
“Mate, does your dad hit you?”
“Sometimes. But I’m tough. I can take it.”
He shouldn’t have to take it.
“That’s not right. Your dad shouldn’t be hurting you. You haven’t done anything wrong, okay?” I made sure to look him in the eye so he knew what I was saying was true.
“He doesn’t hurt my brothers though. Just me and Mum.”
“You did the right thing today, telling us this.” I heard the door open behind us and I saw the head teacher walk in. “Do you think you could tell Mr Farnsworth too? He can help your Daddy. He can help all of you.”
Tommy nodded and when Mrs Turley held out her hand for him, he took it.
“Mr Mathers? Will my daddy go to prison?” Tommy asked me over his shoulder. My throat clammed up. I couldn’t lie to him. I could never lie to a kid like that.