Read Online Humber Boy B by Ruth Dugdall - Free Book Online Page B

stepped closer to him. He was wearing a rugby top, Hull Rovers, like all the boys did. It looked like it needed a wash.
    “No-one cares what you do?”
    “That’s right.”
    Cheryl had just grabbed Noah’s scooter from him, and was scooting in perfect circles around Adam, when her dad came out of the shop carrying two bags of food. He stopped still, staring at his daughter.
    “I told you to wait in the car, girl.”
    “But you were ages.”
    Roger hadn’t noticed Noah until he said, “Hello, Mr Palmer.”
    “Oh, hello, er… ” It was awkward, seeing him like this, though of course the boy had no idea about his relationship with Jess. Until yesterday evening, Roger had hoped he would be his step-son, and now he was just another pupil. “Hello Noah.”
    Then, in a more sarcastic and definitely less reverential tone, Adam said, “Hello, Sir.”
    “Adam. How are things at high school?”
    “Pretty shite.”
    Roger looked at his daughter, “Come on, Cheryl, give the lads their scooter back. It’s fishing time,” he said sharply.
    “Where’ll you fish, sir?” asked Noah.
    “The Humber,” said Roger, warming to the idea once again, settling his purchases onto the back seat of the car where his rod and bucket waited. “Under the bridge.”

14
    Now
    FACEBOOK PAGE: FIND HUMBER BOY B
    Noah’s mum: September is always a hard month for me. The local children have just gone back to school and it makes me think about what Noah should be doing now. He’d be nearly eighteen, probably about to start university or college. Leaving home for the first time, instead of leaving me forever when he was just ten years old. Sometimes I allow myself to think about it, how he’d look, what he’d wear. Other times it’s too painful to even remember that I had a son. People say it gets easier but it never seems to. People at church are always praying for me, and that never helps either. What would help is for HBB to be back behind bars, where he belongs. Then I could rest.
    Jenny: So sorry to read this. Sending you hugs, and a reminder that you are STRONG.
    Silent Friend: Help doesn’t come from the heavens, but from your friends. I would do anything to take your pain away. I hope one day soon I get that chance.

15
    Cate
    “It’s so stuffy in here. Bet it’s nice outside, though.”
    Cate cracked open the window of her office and bunched her hair into her hands, lifted it from her neck and waited for a breeze. The weather showed no sign of breaking, yet Ben was wearing his jumper, the hood pulled up so it covered his head and fell on his forehead. With his pale face and wisps of blond hair he looked like a ghost. Or an angel.
    “So, you survived your first week of freedom?” As soon as she said this Cate regretted it, not meaning to remind Ben of the danger he may be in. “How’s it been?”
    “Alright.”
    Ben looked tired, there were dark shadows under his eyes and he’d lost weight – it showed in his cheeks.
    “Are you eating enough, looking after yourself?” Even as she said it, she knew she sounded like a mother. Not a probation officer.
    “Yes, I’m really fine.”
    Cate smiled at his bravado, a trait that must have helped Ben cope while locked up. No vulnerability can be shown in prison, as she well knew, and he had survived his sentence in text book style. No adjudications. No back-staging. Always returning to the prison on time after any trip out. And everyone, from the chaplain to the PE staff, had said he deserved parole.
    “You don’t need to pretend any more, Ben. It’s okay. This room may be stuffy but it’s also a place you can be honest.”
    He blinked at her and she caught the glimmer of tears.
    “But you write everything down.” He looked at her notebook, at the tower of court papers. “Just like they all did. Assessing me, analysing.”
    Cate knew it was true, and also that some of the staff had used his story. The first social worker to meet him after Noah’s death had even published