how to solve them. “Brenton, would you come down to my room? I have something important to tell you -it concerns your mother.”
Brenton sat up, ready to give a reply, only to see Lewis disappear out of his room. Dressed only in jeans and vest, he shadowed the other man down the stairs, wondering what he was about to reveal to him.
He entered Mr Lewis’s room and found him clearing many papers and items of correspondence off his desk, appearing very preoccupied, scarcely aware of Brenton sitting down opposite him. “Oh, er, sorry. I didn’t expect you to come down straight away. I’ll be with you in a minute, Brenton. Just doing a bit of tidying up - my desk’s in a right mess.”
Brenton telescoped the table for evidence of any snouts and spotted a half-full packet, partly concealed by a brown envelope. “Don’t mind if I take one, do you?”
Mr Lewis simply nodded his head and cleared his throat, preparing himself for what he had to say. From a drawer in his desk he pulled out a large file and placed it in front of himself, then he steepled his hands together and looked up at his eager charge.
“Right, my young friend, this is your file and as you can see, it has a lot of material in it. I don’t know if you are aware, but it’s like a kind of logbook. It starts from when you came into care, and chronicles your life until the week you moved in here.”
Acting like a child on the day before his birthday, Brenton nodded in anticipation, to show he understood. “This file contains all the school reports, staff reports, doctors’ and social workers’ reports and even some psychiatric reports on you. It’s quite amazing really. For the life of me, I can’t remember ever seeing a file as thick as this.”
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”
“It’s even got details of case reviews and meetings concerning you from when you were a baby.”
The social worker paused to light up a cigarette as Brenton sat uneasily. “I haven’t got all day, you know.”
Mr Lewis secretly thought that someone should have told Brenton about the contents of the file years ago. “I have had this stuff for the past week and you would not believe how much trouble I had getting access to it. These files are like national secrets.”
Brenton slid downwards, indicating to Lewis to get a move on. Mr Lewis darted a glance at the teenager. “Anyway, before I tell you about your mother’s whereabouts, I feel I have to explain the circumstances of when you were born. Is this all right with you? Do you know anything about what happened at the time of your birth?”
“I don’t know much, just that my mother is Jamaican and my paps is a white man. I’ve always reckoned my bitch of a mother gave me up.”
Brenton felt the hot vapour of frustration moistening his eyes. Wanting to hear the full novel, he began to tap his feet. The social worker noted this, but he’d planned this talk for the past few days and was determined to do it in his own way -he would not be rushed, no matter how much impatience Brenton displayed.
“Not even a lion rejects her cubs or even a rat rejects, er, whatever they have. I have to know why she done it.”
Flicking his ash in the ashtray, Mr Lewis set his gaze on Brenton. “It’s not quite as straightforward as that. I wouldn’t call it rejection; maybe another word is appropriate.”
Taking his arm off the desk and sitting upright, Brenton fought for control of his tongue. “Then what would you call it?”
“Look, it says in your file that around the time you were born, your mother was already married to somebody different from your father.”
Mr Lewis thought for a while then decided to give his charge more information.
“It appears your mother was very intelligent, by all accounts.The records say she came over to England in 1961, late in the year. The exact date isn’t given, but I suppose it was November or December.”
Mr Lewis flipped through the pages of the file to try and find the
Brenton sat up, ready to give a reply, only to see Lewis disappear out of his room. Dressed only in jeans and vest, he shadowed the other man down the stairs, wondering what he was about to reveal to him.
He entered Mr Lewis’s room and found him clearing many papers and items of correspondence off his desk, appearing very preoccupied, scarcely aware of Brenton sitting down opposite him. “Oh, er, sorry. I didn’t expect you to come down straight away. I’ll be with you in a minute, Brenton. Just doing a bit of tidying up - my desk’s in a right mess.”
Brenton telescoped the table for evidence of any snouts and spotted a half-full packet, partly concealed by a brown envelope. “Don’t mind if I take one, do you?”
Mr Lewis simply nodded his head and cleared his throat, preparing himself for what he had to say. From a drawer in his desk he pulled out a large file and placed it in front of himself, then he steepled his hands together and looked up at his eager charge.
“Right, my young friend, this is your file and as you can see, it has a lot of material in it. I don’t know if you are aware, but it’s like a kind of logbook. It starts from when you came into care, and chronicles your life until the week you moved in here.”
Acting like a child on the day before his birthday, Brenton nodded in anticipation, to show he understood. “This file contains all the school reports, staff reports, doctors’ and social workers’ reports and even some psychiatric reports on you. It’s quite amazing really. For the life of me, I can’t remember ever seeing a file as thick as this.”
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”
“It’s even got details of case reviews and meetings concerning you from when you were a baby.”
The social worker paused to light up a cigarette as Brenton sat uneasily. “I haven’t got all day, you know.”
Mr Lewis secretly thought that someone should have told Brenton about the contents of the file years ago. “I have had this stuff for the past week and you would not believe how much trouble I had getting access to it. These files are like national secrets.”
Brenton slid downwards, indicating to Lewis to get a move on. Mr Lewis darted a glance at the teenager. “Anyway, before I tell you about your mother’s whereabouts, I feel I have to explain the circumstances of when you were born. Is this all right with you? Do you know anything about what happened at the time of your birth?”
“I don’t know much, just that my mother is Jamaican and my paps is a white man. I’ve always reckoned my bitch of a mother gave me up.”
Brenton felt the hot vapour of frustration moistening his eyes. Wanting to hear the full novel, he began to tap his feet. The social worker noted this, but he’d planned this talk for the past few days and was determined to do it in his own way -he would not be rushed, no matter how much impatience Brenton displayed.
“Not even a lion rejects her cubs or even a rat rejects, er, whatever they have. I have to know why she done it.”
Flicking his ash in the ashtray, Mr Lewis set his gaze on Brenton. “It’s not quite as straightforward as that. I wouldn’t call it rejection; maybe another word is appropriate.”
Taking his arm off the desk and sitting upright, Brenton fought for control of his tongue. “Then what would you call it?”
“Look, it says in your file that around the time you were born, your mother was already married to somebody different from your father.”
Mr Lewis thought for a while then decided to give his charge more information.
“It appears your mother was very intelligent, by all accounts.The records say she came over to England in 1961, late in the year. The exact date isn’t given, but I suppose it was November or December.”
Mr Lewis flipped through the pages of the file to try and find the
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