and have a Magnum?”
“Yes,” said Dad, distracted. “You can have a Magnum.”
“Thanks, Dad,” said John, glowing with pride as if he had just been given a badge that said “Number One Son” on it.
“That’s it. No more watching that show Small England or whatever it’s called where those two idiots dress up as ‘laydees’. It’s a bad influence.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Now go to your room and do your homework,” barked Dad.
“I haven’t got any homework. I’ve been expelled.”
“Oh, yes.” Dennis’s dad thought for a moment. “Well, just go to your room then.”
Dennis passed John, who was sitting on the stairs gleefully enjoying his Magnum. He lay on his bed in silence, thinking how everything had been ruined, simply by putting on a dress. Dennis took out the photograph he had saved from the bonfire of him, John and Mum at the beach. It was all he had left now. He gazed at the picture. He would give anything to be on that beach again with ice-cream round his mouth, holding onto his mum’s hand. Maybe if he stared long enough into it he would disappear back into that happy scene.
But suddenly the picture was torn out of his hands.
Dad held it up. “What’s this?”
“It’s just a picture, Dad.”
“But I burnt them all. I don’t want any reminders of that woman in the house.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. It just floated out of the bonfire onto a hedge.”
“Well, now it’s going in the bin, like your magazine.”
“Please, Dad, don’t! Let me keep it.” Dennis snatched the photograph back.
“How dare you! Give it to me! NOW!” shouted Dad.
Dennis had never seen him so angry. He tentatively handed the picture back.
“Have you got any others?”
“No, Dad. That was the only one, I promise.”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore. I blame your mother for all this dressing up business anyway. She was always too soft on you.”
Dennis was silent. There was nothing more to say. He carried on looking forward. He heard the door slam. An hour went by, or was it a day, or a month, or a year? Dennis wasn’t sure any more. The present was somewhere he didn’t want to be, and he couldn’t see a future.
His life was over–and he was only twelve.
The doorbell rang, and a few moments later Dennis heard Darvesh’s voice downstairs. Then his dad’s.
“He’s not allowed out of his room I’m afraid, Darvesh.”
“But I really need to see him, Mr Sims.”
“It’s not possible I’m afraid. Not today. And if you see that stupid girl Lisa, who John says put him up to this dressing-up thing, tell her to never show her face again.”
“Can you tell him I’m still his friend? Whatever’s happened. He’s still my friend. Can you tell him that?”
“I’m not talking to him at the moment, Darvesh. It’s best you go.”
Dennis heard the door shut, and then went to the window. He could see Darvesh walking slowly down the drive, his patka getting wet in the rain. Darvesh turned back, and caught sight of Dennis up at his bedroom window. He smiled sadly, giving a little wave. Dennis put his hand up to wave back. Then Darvesh disappeared out of sight.
Dennis spent the whole day holed up in his room hiding from his dad.
Just as night fell Dennis heard a quiet tapping on the window. It was Lisa. She was standing on a ladder and trying to talk in as a hushed tone as possible.
“What do you want?” asked Dennis.
“I need to speak to you.”
“I’m not allowed to speak to you anymore.”
“Just let me in for a minute. Please?”
Dennis opened the window and Lisa climbed in. He sat back down on the bed.
“I’m sorry, Dennis. I’m really sorry. I thought it would be fun. I didn’t think it would end up like this.” She put a hand on his shoulder, stroking his hair. No one had stroked Dennis’s hair for years. His mum used to do it every night when she tucked him into bed. Somehow it made him want to cry.
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Lisa whispered. “I mean, why are girls allowed to wear dresses and boys aren’t? It doesn’t make any sense!”
“It’s OK, Lisa.”
“I mean, expelled? It’s just not fair. Karl Bates didn’t even get expelled for mooning the school inspectors!”
“And I’m going to miss the football final.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Look, I never meant all this to happen. It’s just crazy. I’m going to get Hawtrey to have you back at the school.”
“Lisa…”
“I am. I don’t know how yet, but I promise.”
Lisa hugged him and kissed him for a moment just shy of his lips. It was a glorious kiss. How could it be anything but glorious? After all, her mouth was shaped like a kiss. “Dennis, I promise.”
It wasn’t until the weekend that Dennis was allowed out of the house. Dad had locked the computer away in a cupboard, and Dennis was forbidden to watch the television so he had missed a number of episodes of Trisha.
Finally, on Saturday morning, Dad relented and Dennis was let out for the day. He wanted to go round to Darvesh’s flat to wish him luck for the final. On the way he stopped off at Raj’s to get something to eat. He only had 13p to spend, as his pocket money had been frozen indefinitely. Raj greeted him as warmly as he always did.
“Ah, my favourite customer!” exclaimed Raj.
“Hi, Raj,” said Dennis, mutedly. “Have you got anything for 13p?”
“Erm, let me think. Half a Chomp bar?”
Dennis smiled. It was the first time he had smiled in a week.
“It’s nice to see you smile, Dennis. Lisa told me what happened at school. I am very sorry.”
