Anna added that to the mental shopping list that was neverfinished. She was pleased he was invited, pleased he had something to be excited about.
‘How was school today, Sam?’
His hand tightened in hers. He knew she meant the bullying.
‘Harry says girls are stupid and I’m like a girl.’
And just like that, the ball of rage fired up again. Anna let it burn, but was determined not to let Sam see it.
‘You know what? Even when I was at school people said things like that. That girls are better, or boys are. It’s just nonsense. You know that, right? Everyone is different, and has good points and bad points, things they’re good at, things they need more help with. You can’t take a group as big as boys or girls and say that they are like this or like that.’
Sam was looking up at her, his eyes wide. There had been a time when he’d believed everything she said, no question. But lately, he often countered things she told him with ‘But Miss Bright said…’ Where would he stand on this?
‘I think Harry is stupid and girls are brilliant,’ Sam said.
Anna squeezed his hand a little tighter. It pained her to have to correct him. ‘We don’t call anyone stupid, baby. But most people are brilliant, when you get to know them.’
Not Harry, she thought.
Sam shrugged, and then they were at their house and Anna was fishing the door key out of her pocket. Once they were inside, Sam went straight up to his room. Anna checked the time. Thomas would be home from football in half an hour. She stood with her back to the kitchen counter, thinking about how Miss Bright might make some progress with Sam’s bullies but it wasn’t long until the summer holidays, and in the new school year Anna would have to start all over again with a new teacher. It was exhausting. Why Sam? Why her funny, brilliant and loving son?
When Thomas arrived home, he was monosyllabic. He slunk off upstairs and Anna was making a start on dinner when she heard a thud and some shouting. She ran up the stairs and found the boys in Sam’s room. They were caught in a tussle that looked like the playfighting they’d always done but that Anna knew, in an instant, was something different. She shouted Thomas’s name and he turned to look at her, and Sam used his distraction as an opportunity to get the upper hand. He pulled back his fist and slammed it into his brother’s cheek, and Anna was so shocked she just stood there, watching.
After a moment, it was like she came back to life. Thomas was lying on the floor, clutching the side of his face and crying, and Sam was standing over him, looking a mixture of scared and triumphant.
‘Sam! What did you do?’
Anna fell to her knees beside her eldest son, gently prised his hand away so she could see if there was any damage. There was no blood. There would be bruising, she was sure, but for now, he looked okay. Still, she could see that he was hurt and it made her ache.
‘It was him!’ Sam shouted. ‘I hate him! He’s worse than the boys at school!’
Thomas sat up and Anna could see that he was checking his teeth with his tongue.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked him, and when he nodded, ‘What did you say to him?’
‘What the hell?’ Thomas asked, standing up. ‘He punches me in the face and you’re still on his side? Are you joking?’
He left the room, slamming the door behind him. Anna made eye contact with Sam, who looked sad and sorry.
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘He said I’m weird because I don’t like football,’ Sam said quietly.
Anna nodded. She wanted to pull him towards her for a hug.
‘I’ll talk to him,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell him he needs to be kind. But you cannot punch people, or hurt people at all, Sam. You know that.’
Sam’s shoulders sagged. ‘You don’t know what it’s like. Those boys are so horrible to me at school and I can’t wait to get home, and then…’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know.’
And when he came to her, she wrapped him in her arms and let him cry.
When they were little, Thomas three and Sam a baby, Thomas had sung Sam to sleep, held him with a look of complete wonder, and Anna had felt like this was the best bit of all of it. Not creating these two people, but enabling this relationship to exist. It was so pure, so full of love. She remembered Sam at two or three, saying he wanted to marry his brother, Thomas agreeing, her having to gently explain that you couldn’t marry someone in your family. Thomas saying he would marry the neighbour’s dog instead, then. It all seemed like so long ago.
Anna knocked on Thomas’s door. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
‘You always take his side,’ he said.
