Ivy Lane: Autumn: by Cathy Bramley Page A

into the boy’s face. ‘I know you, don’t I? You’re Lee, Frank Garton’s son. You’re in Mia’s year at school.’
    The Frank Garton? I leapt forward and pulled Gemma back to safety. He didn’t look dangerous, but he could have had a knife for all we knew.
    ‘So is it you, then, you little scumbag?’ said Charlie, holding him by the hood of his hoody. ‘Have you been stealing off everyone’s plots?’
    ‘I’ll phone the police,’ I said, patting my pocket to find my mobile. ‘Keep well back, Gemma.’
    I was expecting the teenager to duck backwards out of his hoody and do a runner any second. I’d seen that move with boys younger than him many a time in the school playground.
    But I’d got it wrong this time. At the sight of my phone, Lee flung his arms round Charlie’s torso and burst into noisy tears. ‘Please don’t tell the police. We’ll all be put into care.’ His voice was somewhere between a croak and a yodel – the curse of the teenage boy.
    We three adults looked at each other and I slid the phone back into my pocket.
    We’d better go and have a chat,’ said Charlie, jerking his head towards the pavilion.
    Two hours later as I curled around my hot-water bottle in bed I still couldn’t get the haunted look on Lee’s face out of my head.
    Over mugs of illicit tea in the pavilion we had heard the full sorry story.
    It seemed that since Frank Garton had been in prison, his wife had taken to her bed with depression, leaving Lee to look after his four younger siblings. With no money coming into the house, things had got to the point where Lee simply didn’t know where to turn to feed his family. When he found the spare key his dad had had cut for the allotment, he’d thought it was the answer to his problem.
    He’d been missing school to care for his mum, keep the house clean and look after the little ones. His main worry, he told us, was social services getting involved, and the family being split up.
    My heart ached for him. What a responsibility at only fifteen.
    I had no idea how I was going to help him. But I definitely would.
    I stretched an arm out in the darkness to touch the cool space on the empty side of the bed. It was late and I needed to be up early for work in the morning.
    Nine o’clock had come and gone.
    The earth had kept spinning, I had carried on living and that was exactly as it should be. I had my own place in the world and for the first time in two years, I didn’t feel quite so guilty or alone being there.

Chapter 7
    It was Friday evening and I had broken up for October half-term. Hurrah! Much as I loved All Saints Nursery and Infants School, I was very much looking forward to having some time to relax.
    As soon as I got home, I had a shower, washed my hair and made myself a quick bowl of pasta. Yesterday’s leftovers, which I’d intended to have, hadn’t looked the least bit appealing. I’d had Gemma and Hayley round, unlikely trio you might think, but we’d bonded splendidly over pizza, a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and my wedding album. We’d shed some tears, obviously, especially when Hayley found out about James and that I’d lost my baby, and then cheered ourselves up by watching
Bridesmaids
. Despite the emotional interlude, we had had fun, although I was pretty sure that Hayley would never be flippant about the implications of drinking and driving again.
    It had been one of those eventful weeks at home and at school when before I’d had chance to react to one event, another had come along and sent my poor brain spinning off in a new direction.
    My job share colleague had made a sudden decision to retire at Christmas and I had been summoned to Mrs Burns, the head teacher’s office.
    ‘Tilly, you would be doing me a huge service if you would consider applying for the full-time post,’ Mrs Burns had said. ‘There would be a formal interview, of course, but in all honesty, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have in the job.’
    ‘I’m