When We Got Lost in Dreamland by Ross Welford

Author:Ross Welford [Welford, Ross]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-12-14T17:00:00+00:00

Susan is free to go to her music lesson.

I am kept in ‘supervised isolation’ until the end of school, which basically means doing my French homework while Miss Biggs, who I’ve never spoken to before, does some marking and – to judge from the snorts and giggles – catches up on Facebook or whatever.

I’m supposed to be learning the perfect tense.

J’ai dormi – I slept.

J’ai rêvé – I dreamed.

Je suis devenu fou – I went mad.

I feel for the bumps on my arm again – a sort of reassurance that I am not actually losing my mind. They’re not there any more, however closely I look. Did I imagine it all, just like I imagined I was in a dream?

‘Malcolm,’ says Miss Biggs, ‘is your homework written on your arm?’

I pull my sleeve down and look again at the stain on the fabric: a large, uneven smudge. The smell is still there: faint but distinctive.

I’m wondering about this, and letting my mind drift, when I’m startled by the end-of-day bell.

It’s 3.30. I’m free to go. The first thing I see when I turn my phone on is a text from Mam.

Just got an email from Mrs Farroukh. We’ll talk tonight.

Not even an ‘x’ at the end. That’s serious.

I’m walking past the library on the way out and Susan appears just as I am passing. She’s been waiting for me, I can tell. I don’t know what to say, apart from, ‘Hi.’

We’re on the Tyne path, walking home together, before either of us says anything else. It’s as if Susan is waiting, but she’s not impatient. She could probably wait for days. She walks close enough to me that I can smell her appley hair.

‘Thank you,’ I say, eventually, after the silence has become too awkward for me. She nods and waits some more. ‘Why … why did you say all that?’ I ask. ‘You know, lie for me? I didn’t think you lied. Buddhism rules an’ that.’

‘It is not a rule, Malky. It is a guideline. And I lied because I am worried for you.’

‘You think I’ve gone mad?’

She pauses long enough for me to guess that ‘Yes’ is at least part of her answer. But instead, she shakes her head and says, ‘No,’ which is kind of her.

Then she adds a ‘but’, at which point we hear a voice behind us, and whatever the ‘but’ was going to be is left hanging.

‘Hello, you two! Kenneth – look who it is!’

We both spin round to see Andi pushing old Kenneth McKinley in a wheelchair, with Dennis ambling lazily by their side.

‘Kenneth. Do you see who it is?’

The old man lifts his chin from his chest and peers at us.

Andi says, ‘It’s the children from the weekend, Kenneth. Susan and Malcolm.’

At the mention of my name, his head straightens a bit more. He repeats what he had said the day I met him. ‘Malcolm? Good Scottish name that, eh, lad?’ His speech is soft and slurred.

‘He’s not having such a good

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