Nowhere to Go by Casey Watson

‘No, you shouldn’t have lashed out physically – but you already know that, don’t you? But, apart from that, you have nothing to reproach yourself for. It’s not
your
fault that we bumped into them, is it? And, as far as I can see, it’s not your fault that you weren’t allowed to speak to your brother, either.’
    Which I knew, even as I said it, wasn’t perhaps the most appropriate thing for me to be saying to him. My normal world was one in which adults, in the main, knew best, hung together and were of largely similar opinions – the world where if a child came home and said that their teacher had told them off, it was natural to assume it must have been for a good reason. And, in truth, I didn’t know. Perhaps there was a very good reason why Tyler wasn’t allowed to speak to his little brother – perhaps he had ‘previous’ with him, as well. But my instinct screamed otherwise. If there was a good reason for Tyler to be denied contact with his sibling, then I felt 100 per cent sure it would already be in the notes somewhere – as extra ammunition, fired by his stepmother, in the cause of taking him to court. But there was nothing. Which spoke volumes to me.
    So I didn’t care, I decided – not on this occasion, anyway. This particular kid had already been through enough. ‘Come on,’ I said, daring for the first time to ruffle his hair as he walked past, ‘let’s have a sit down, shall we? And have a proper chat.’
    Tyler scrubbed at his eyes roughly as he took a seat at the dining table. I’d hoped he might head for the living room and get comfortable on the sofa, so that I could join him, but perhaps he wasn’t ready for that level of physical closeness yet. And much as I wanted to give him a cuddle, his brittle little body told me I needed to bide my time for a bit. At least he was here with me, and his tears were progress in themselves; tears of hurt he was finally letting me see.
    I sat down opposite him and folded my arms on the table. ‘That phone call I just took was from my link worker, Tyler. You remember John, who brought you here?’
    Tyler nodded and sniffed, and as he did so I noticed something else. He’d changed into his favourite hoodie, but the hood, for once, was down.
    ‘Well,’ I continued, deciding to leave Will out of things for the moment, ‘he was calling to tell me that they now have a date for your court appearance.’
    I watched as a look of panic crossed his features. ‘It’s next Wednesday,’ I added quickly, ‘but, Tyler, that’s a
good
thing. It’s better that it’s so soon. It means it’ll be over and done with – so you won’t have it hanging over you, making you worry.’
    ‘But that’s less than a week away!’ he cried, parroting what I’d just said to John. ‘They’ll send me down, won’t they? I know they will.’
    I would have smiled at his choice of term if I had felt at all like smiling. As it was, I was more concerned with reassuring him. ‘Tyler, they won’t be “sending you down”. They won’t be sending you anywhere,’ I added, crossing my fingers that I was right. But how could I not be? He was 11. There couldn’t be a magistrate in the land that would countenance such a thing, surely? And if we were unlucky enough to find one who felt differently, I’d take it upon myself to appeal in the strongest terms. Chain myself to the court railings, if need be, I decided. Or the bike rack, more likely. But it would be unnecessary. He’d already been sent ‘down’ after all – down into the care system. Down to our house.
    Which, to my mind, was the first positive in the whole sorry business. ‘How do you know?’ he argued. ‘One of my mates threatened this old lady with a knife once, and he got sent away for
ever
.’
    ‘Don’t be daft, love. They won’t send you away,’ I said, ‘I promise you. Sweetie, what you did was done in the heat of the moment. You were angry about so many things, weren’t you?’ He nodded