Sara Cullen

CHAPTER 1

The school was on fire. And it was his fault.

The sirens were getting louder, closer.

They were coming for him.

He didn’t really fit, on the cubicle floor. His knees were pulled up to his chin. The cistern dug into his back. The black smoke was getting lower, like a storm cloud.

He looked at the dirt on the floor. He supposed the grout was maybe white at one point, but now it was all black and soon it would all be gone, burned to the ground. It was a bit easier to breathe sitting like this, but in a minute the smoke would be down here too. It was hot, like the middle of a bonfire. He bit the skin back from the sides of his nails. Focusing on the pain helped to drown out the noise.

Jack was hanging over the stall, shouting. He had been trying to get in the door but Aaron hadn’t let him in. He couldn’t move. There was no point.

‘Aaron man we’re done for now! We need to get OUT!’

It was like one of those nightmares where you’re trying to run but your legs won’t move. His brain was telling him to get up, but his body was frozen. He knew the polis would be here any minute and he would be taken away. How did Jack not realise that? Was it safer in here, or out there?

He still couldn’t move.

Another bang rocked the building.

The sirens stopped; the fire engines were here. One of the PE teachers was on the megaphone, moving everyone away. Like Sports Day. He had been stoned on Sports Day and he was stoned now. He could hear Jack coughing into his arm and the door opened and a load of smoke and heat blew in like the world was on fire and then he was gone.

Aaron was on his own.

The smoke was coming under the cubicle door now; thick, black, terrifying. He looked back down to his feet and thought about following Jack. Chloe needed him, he had to get back to his little sister. She would think this was all her fault.

He pulled his sleeve down over his hand to free some up to cover his mouth with. Right then, a spider ran in under the door. His heart jumped so hard in his chest it hurt, but he couldn’t scream with all the smoke and heat. He stood up on the toilet seat and the heat nearly melted his head. The spider was scuttling for its life all around the bottom of the toilet. It would be easier just to die now than to find a way out of this.

There was a smash and the window shattered inwards. Glass sprayed through the bathroom like raindrops. There was screaming outside. Chloe. It sounded like someone was pulling her away. Chloe. He needed to get out to Chloe. And then there was a boot at the cubicle door, and he was being carried by strong arms and handed out through the broken glass. They were carrying him away from the spider, away from the smoke and towards the ambulance.

Aaron had only gone in to see to that wee idiot after Chloe had told him what he’d done. Any brother would do the same, he had just needed to scare him. None of this was ever meant to happen.

The school had done hundreds of fire drills, of course, but no one had ever seen anything like this. The white lines where they were supposed to line up were long forgotten as people ran screaming for their lives. The PE block was on fire, the world was burning.

The flames were high in the sky. The jets of water from the trucks covered the school in grey arcs and the firefighters surrounded the building like soldiers. The teachers had made a wall and pushed everyone back onto the main road and back again and again until everyone was in the nearby housing estate. The roads were blocked off and hysterical parents were trying to get past the police tape to check on their children, screaming at the teachers who pushed them back.

Just beyond the heat of the flames, the screams, and the roar of the fire and water, two people watched calmly. The police officers stood by the side of their car, chilled. They would follow the ambulance when it started moving. They knew Aaron Smith, of course, everyone knew him and his Dad. They leaned back, watching. They could wait.

They knew how it would end.

∞

The fireman carried Aaron over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. He was desperately looking for Dylan and Chloe, twisting his head around until he finally saw them. One of the PE teachers had pushed them back by a tree. They looked so small, so frightened. He tried to give them a thumbs up. After that, he closed his eyes. Pain was flowing through his body. Up and down. He focused on it for a minute and followed it as it travelled up his legs, into his chest.

In the ambulance, he was turned around and laid down. The doors were closed. Everyone was talking and an oxygen mask was put over his face. A paramedic was speaking to him, and he was trying to take the mask off to talk to her, but she held it tight.

‘Give it a minute son. You need oxygen just now, try and relax.’

The fireman opened the door and then he was gone. For a second the sunlight, the smoke and the noise filled the ambulance back up but then the doors were shut again, and the sirens were on and they were moving.

Behind him, the school burned.

∞

‘How many children again, Mrs Smith?’ the woman at the Foodbank asked.

Mhairi squinted against the bright November sun, ‘Three’ she answered wishing the woman would hurry up. She hadn’t eaten since last night and just wanted to get home and have something before they all got back from school. She would love to have a wee bite to eat there like everyone else but she would wait until she got home. The rest would be for her bairns. The boys were so hungry, all the time. Even with the free school dinners.

‘Two’ said Grant next to her.

She turned to him.

‘Aaron’s 16 now, mind?’ he turned to the volunteer, ‘Three adults, two children’ he said.

‘Aww he’s all grown up!’ the woman smiled. ‘I’ll give you his package today but next week he’ll have to come himself, we have no other option if he’s an adult now, OK?’

The room was lined with rows and rows of tins, meat, fruit, sweets, tea, and coffee. It was a lifesaver just that once a week being able to take what you needed. Grant always let her pack the bags with the volunteers and he carried them home no matter how heavy they were.

Her phone pinged. Mum.

Malcolm’s hurt his leg. Cannae drive. Can you get me a package please?

Malcolm was her Mum’s neighbour who usually collected her package. Since Mhairi’s Dad died the neighbour had been brilliant. Mhairi felt sick to her stomach. How was she going to get the package all the way up to her Mum’s? But she knew her Mum didn’t have anyone else to ask. If she didn’t bring food to her Mum, her Mum would have no food. It was as simple as that.

‘We’ve got my Mum too’ Mhari said as they walked up and down the rows.

Another bag to carry, she thought, clenching her hands into fists and stretching them out again.

Mhairi and Grant came out of the church into the sunshine. They crossed over the town square, where the stalls were getting set up. It happened every year on Guy Fawkes, with fireworks and music and stalls. The bairns had loved it when they were wee and they all went down together, but these days the boys were never around at night, no matter how hard she tried to get them to stay home. Maybe Chloe would still come.

They passed the courthouse, with young laddies outside in cheap suits and tracksuits. They crossed over the high street and onto the prom. The sun shined on the water. There were four red oil rigs out on the horizon. The seagulls ducked and dived.

The quiet midmorning peace was suddenly shattered by the sirens. Four fire engines went shooting past them.

‘There’s a fire up at the school’ one dogwalker said to the other.

A shiver went down Mhari’s spine. All three of her kids were up at that school.

‘There’s no such thing as a fire these days, it’ll be bairns setting off the fire alarm’ Grant said, not interested. She could see the white lines on his hands from the bags.

They carried on walking. The view from the prom was braw today, she could see right over to Edinburgh. They were nearly home at the flat. They forgot about the sirens as they carried the bags up the seven flights of stairs. It took a minute for her hands to straighten out after she put the bags down. When she could manage it, she reached into the bag and took out a tin of beans. Her hands shook as she crunched the rusty tin opener around in a circle. She spooned the contents into her mouth and swallowed them down, barely chewing as she stood in the middle of the galley kitchen, looking out at the flats below.

When the tin was empty, her head cleared a bit and she took a few minutes emptying the bags and tidying up a wee bit. She would have the energy now to go back down with the bags to her Mum, they would be light compared to what they had carried up.

'Ah'm away to Mum's’ she said as she walked into the sitting room. Grant was in the chair with his back to her, watching the telly, an empty packet of cold hot dogs on the coffee table next to him.

'Ok hen, see ya later' he replied without looking back. As she closed the door behind her, Grant’s phone started to ring.

CHAPTER 2

The holding room at the police station was like a dungeon. The walls were made of stone. Aaron had been here before, of course, but never for this long. The room never changed, it was the same leaflets for #andysmansclub and The Samaritans. There was no clock. The hospital had said he’d only been in the smoke a few minutes and he was good to go. They wanted rid of him. But the two policemen had been waiting and he’d been arrested at the hospital and brought here. He’d been given a sandwich and a polystyrene cup of water and told he had to wait. He was cold.

Usually, they called an ‘appropriate adult’ and his dad came. How it went after that depended on what mood Dad was in when they got home, but it never lasted. Today was different. It had been hours now and no one had come.

No one was coming.

It was what they had all warned him about, of course, turning sixteen. An adult, in the eyes of the law. Every police, social worker, guidance teacher. But surely it wouldn’t matter, it had been an accident. All the other times he’d been out causing trouble, enjoying pissing the polis off, who didn’t! The time they’d nicked the stuff from the arcade, they were just trying to get a chase from the security guard. Or the time they’d broken into that house they just wanted booze. And everyone did drugs, the whole of the fourth year took drugs. All you had to do was go to the toilet at break to get them. And there was that one time with the lighter on the bus. But he’d just been kidding around. Everyone made such a big deal about everything. He had just been bored.

This time though, it had been an accident. But how could he explain that and keep Chloe’s secret and not grass on Jack?

He couldn’t.

Simple as that.

They came and moved him into another room. This hadn’t happened before either. It was more like a PE changing cubicle. A bench was drilled into the wall. Normally he went from the waiting room to the reception and home. He had never thought it through; what happened next?

The hatch opened and another cereal bar and a cup of water were handed in. Someone was shouting out there about their human rights. The guy sounded demented. He had barely taken the snacks when the hatch slammed closed.

Where was Jack? Surely he must be in here too? But he hadn’t seen Jack and they’d taken his phone. He knew they’d have to come and get him eventually and he knew this was a waiting game. He sat back on the bench and stretched his toes up and down. His chest was sore now. Breathing hurt. The insides of his knees were starting to hurt were his eczema was bad. He knew it could be a long night, he needed not to scratch or they’d get worse. He tried not to think about it and rubbed his knee with his knuckle.

The shift changed at seven; he knew this from other times so it must be seven now. The door opened and a new one stuck his head in.

A police officer took him to the doctor’s room, ‘In here pal’ he said

They swabbed his mouth and he retched. They could only hold him for twelve hours or something, was that right? Or was it six? Or twenty-four? Twenty-four hours in custody, was that the name of the TV show? Or was that in America? They rolled his fingers on the pad, twisting them this way and that. They took his picture. Then another.

They had asked if he had a social worker. He wasn’t sure if it was Angie anymore, but he’d given her name. He hadn’t seen her in ages, and he was sure he’d seen a letter through the door saying ‘closed to social work’ but maybe she could help now. Did you even have a social worker if you were over sixteen? He was only allowed to ask for one person to be phoned so he’d had to ask for Mum but what about Chloe? Would she tell anyone else what had happened, or had she just told him? Jack knew, but where was Jack?

Would Jack tell anyone?

The two police officers from earlier had tried to talk to him, so many questions. What were you doing in the PE block? Who was smoking? What were you smoking? Who were you trying to fight? Did you intend to burn down the school? Did Jack? ‘No Comment’, he said, over and over. It was driving them mad, and he knew it. No comment. I need a solicitor.

They had left him then. The worst bit was just sitting with no one to talk to. He wanted to tell them he had just thrown the fag away without looking, but it was a big mistake, he hadn’t done anything wrong, but then he might as well say GUILTY so he kept quiet.

The knock on the door came eventually and the two new police were there. One was a woman, she looked alright. She was calm.

‘Come with us son’ she said. The other guy stood behind her like a bodyguard.

‘We’ll explain upstairs’.

Aaron started to walk but the guy stopped him.

‘Cuffs’, he said.

He looked at him for a minute and then decided to do what he was asking. This was all a mistake, after all. The other times, aye, but not this time. He’d play along and it would all get sorted. He turned around and let him cuff him. It hurt.

The stairs were dark and they passed a load of police going up and down who all ignored him. It was well into the night now. The need to lie down and sleep was getting stronger.

This time, he was brought into another room. A room with just a bed.

‘The Sheriff will see you in the morning. There’s an emergency button there. We tried to get a duty solicitor out tonight but no one’s answering. If someone can come in, we will wake you up. If not, it will be the morning.’

The door was closed behind him. The voices faded away; he could hear them laughing as they walked along the corridor.

The bed was a concrete block with a thin mattress on top of it. There was a folded-up blanket at the end and a foam pillow. He was still in his gym clothes, a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a jersey. He was so tired. Well, at least he could get a night’s kip. Maybe there were rules that his parents just couldn’t come in to see him in the cells, but he’d see them in the court tomorrow.

He lay on his side, like the doctor had told him to, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Somehow, eventually, he fell asleep.

∞

Chloe never went into her brothers’ room. It was disgusting. Clothes everywhere, mess everywhere. But tonight, was different. Dylan and her sat on his bed and tried to not listen to the screaming in the other room. She smoothed out his Minecraft duvet cover with her hand. Her knees touched the other single bed where Aaron should be sitting right now.

They had never seen Aaron again after he’d been taken off in the ambulance. He had come out, carried by that massive fireman, flames and smoke rising high behind him, and was put in the back of the ambulance. And that was it. The Guidance Teacher Miss Brown had tried to find out for them what had happened but she didn’t know who to call. The police just drove away behind the ambulance and Chloe and Dylan had been left with the rest of the school while the fire got put out and they all went home as usual on the bus. Their bus had been empty as everyone else had gotten collected or just walked home but they had waited until eventually they realised Aaron wasn’t coming back so the teachers put them on the bus. Dad wasn’t answering his phone and the school didn’t have Mum’s number. Everyone was saying Aaron was a pyro and a psycho and that he had tried to kill them. It was all over every social media place you could think of.

So her and Dylan had just had to come home and when they had walked in their parents were screaming at each other and had told them not to come into the front room. Chloe had never seen her Mum look like that. Even Dylan wasn’t cheeky and he pulled her into his room.

Chloe’s teeth were grinding together and she couldn’t stop them. This was all her fault. And if she told Dylan, things would get even worse. She felt like she was in a tunnel that was getting darker and smaller as the minutes went by.

Dad had been on the phone to someone and for a minute the shouting stopped. They had heard him talk clearly in the voice he used for social workers, teachers, and police.

‘OK.’

‘Yes, we understand’.

‘No, we have no other option. He will have to take whatever punishment he’s given this time.’

‘No, we can’t come to get him. We have two other bairns to take care of. Please keep us posted. Ten tomorrow is fine.’

And then Mum was crying and shouting and Chloe thought she heard Dad crying too. Surely not.

They lay back on the bed, leaning in on the same pillow. They watched videos on their phones.

After another long while Dad came to the door. His eyes were red but his voice was quiet.

‘Aaron’s been arrested for starting the fire at the school. He will be in court tomorrow morning. We will see what the Sheriff says then.’

The lump that had been sitting in Chloe’s throat burst over into tears that spilled down her face. Arrested? Surely Aaron had nothing to do with that fire? He was an idiot, aye, and he’d gone in there looking for that wee boy but…? She looked over at Dylan who had stopped scrolling and was looking at Dad. No one seemed to know why he’d gone in there.

Except her.

‘We cannae do anything tonight, the doctors have said he’s fine. We are just going to carry on as normal and see what happens. We dinnae have any other option. Ahm supposing the social will be back out now’ he took a deep breath when he said this, and his jaw went into the hard line that made them feel scared ‘But it’s nothing to do with us, Aaron’s an adult.’

Chloe had a thousand questions but her mouth stayed closed.

‘Yer Mum and me’s been to the foodbank and there’s plenty of scran the night, even more now with Aaron not here, so come in and help Mum get some tea sorted’ and that was it, the conversation was over.

‘Aaron’s been arrested loads of times’ Dylan said, who looked a bit brighter. ‘Ah thought he was dead, or really sick from the burns. He’ll be getting a row at the station and be home the morn. Dinnae worry!’

He looked cheery and Chloe thought ‘Well maybe he’s right?’ Aaron was always in bother but he always got it sorted. He would be getting a big row but she knew he wouldn’t tell anyone anything about her.

Her secret was safe.

CHAPTER 3

The custody suite was like a zoo. Folk were screaming, shouting, crying. He had lain there in his quiet room, kicking his socks up into the air and catching them, listening to the wails. The smell of piss wafted under the door. There was a bucket in the corner and eventually, he had to go. It made him retch. He did a hundred push-ups. He lay on his back. The ceiling had a tiled pattern that he tried to follow with his eyes. He stank of smoke.

A window must have been open somewhere because he could hear the brass band warming up for the concert in the town square. The Christmas lights were going on tonight. His family went every year. He wondered if would they go tonight. The band were playing Lizzo.

There was a bang on the door and he jumped up. The door was opened and the guards cuffed him and one said quietly 'Duty Solicitor's here, pal.' The three of them walked along the hall quietly. The smell of piss got stronger. The band got louder as they walked along the corridor towards the reception area. There must be more windows down here. It was freezing, but they probably kept them open because of the smell of piss being that bad.

The metal door opened and he was in a small grey room. There was a metal table bolted to the floor and the walls were the colour of puke.

‘Aaron, we are sorry no one was able to get here earlier. We are very short-staffed. Someone should have been able to get here and help you. I’ll be with you tomorrow too.’

Tomorrow?

‘Given your age, you are not able to waive your right to a solicitor, do you understand this?’

‘Aye, ok’ Aaron said.

Of course, he wanted a solicitor. Even if this one wore a striped tie that clashed with his shirt. He had flecks of psoriasis on the sides of his face and a red nose. What kind of numpty would go into court, dressed in a PE tracksuit accused of burning down a school without a solicitor?

‘The charges against you are serious, wilful fire-raising. Arson. It was a very serious fire and you have a history of fire-raising. At this point my advice is for you to say, ‘No comment’ and we will request bail. OK?’

‘Aye, ok.’

They had heard about the one on the bus too. But they didn’t understand. That was completely different. That actually WAS his fault.

‘Did they treat you ok so far?’

‘Aye’, he said. ‘Apart from the fact that that of course Ah didnae start a fire’.

The guy wrote some notes.

‘Dae my parents know what’s happened?’ he asked.

‘Yes Aaron, they do, and they will be in court tomorrow too.’ He kept writing.

Why was he looking away when he said that? Aaron knew his dad would be raging but surely, he would help him to get out of here and they could deal with it as a family, away from them all. Like they always did.

‘OK Aaron, they are coming in now for the interview. Remember; ‘No Comment’.’

‘Aye. OK’.

The door opened.