The Kick Off (4 page)

 

 

 

They sat down on either side of the kitchen table and Jamie's mum flicked her finger under the flap of the envelope, opening it without a tear. She pulled out the red booklet.

Jamie flinched. It looked evil.

“Jamie Johnson – 8R,” she read out loud.

 

FRENCH – GRADE D

 

Overall, this was a disappointing couple of terms for Jamie. After a good start, Jamie's progress tailed off rapidly.

 

Poor concentration in the classroom has led to poor marks in his homework. I note that Jamie is one of the youngest members of the class and I am therefore hoping that his negative attitude is a case of immaturity rather than anything more serious.

 

G GILLES

 

Jamie's mum looked cross.

“I thought you enjoyed French, Jamie?”

“It's boring,” replied Jamie. “He just talks in French the whole time.”

“I think that's the point.”

Jamie's mum shook her head.

 

MATHS – GRADE D

 

Jamie has good natural ability with numbers. However, if he thinks this alone will be enough to carry him through the course, he is wrong. As the syllabus becomes increasingly complex, Jamie will find himself in serious danger of being left behind.

 

In isolation, Jamie can be an engaging and talented pupil but he needs to choose the company he keeps more wisely and start applying himself far better.

 

J BARNWELL

 

“What does he mean, Jamie? Who's he talking about?”

“How should I know? I sit next to Tesh – you know him. There's nothing wrong with Tesh,” said Jamie stubbornly.

He didn't mention the fact that he also sat next to Ollie in maths. He knew Barnwell hated Ollie and, although his mum hadn't even met Ollie, she'd already decided he was a bad influence.

“Mr Barnwell's just sad, Mum. He can't control the class, that's all it is.”

 

HISTORY – GRADE E

 

As a new pupil and one starting in the middle of the school year, one might have expected that Jamie would want to create a good impression. Suffice to say this has not been the case where I am concerned.

 

Having become disillusioned with Jamie's attitude, I recently asked him what he hoped to achieve with his life. His response – that he wanted to be a professional footballer – said everything about where this young man's head is. The fact of the matter is, Jamie is in the bottom three pupils in his year and seems to have no interest in improving his situation.

 

B CLAUNT

 

Jamie's mum looked at him with angry eyes.

“What was the agreement about you joining Kingfield?” she said, waving the report around as she spoke so that pages fluttered, making a sound like a kite on a windy day.

“Mum, I know. I'll try harder next year. I promise!”

 

ENGLISH – GRADE C

 

Regrettably, Jamie seems to think that disrupting his classmates and playing the joker is more important than positive participation in my lessons.

 

This is all the more frustrating because – in the rarest of flashes – he has shown his true capabilities.

 

I have set Jamie's class a small project to complete over the summer. I strongly suggest that he hands this in on time and produces a quality of work that more accurately reflects his abilities.

 

D C GARRICK

 

 

PHYSICAL EDUCATION – GRADE B

 

Although not a particularly experienced rugby or basketball player, Jamie used his speed and hand/eye co-ordination to make an impressive start to his sporting pursuits at Kingfield.

 

The football trials were clearly a mixed day for Jamie. He needs to work on some elements of his game – not least controlling his temper – but in terms of natural ability there is plainly some potential.

 

P MARSDEN

 

“See, Mum, I've got potential! Sport's what matters to me. That's what I'm good at!” said Jamie. He knew he was lucky that Marsden hadn't written anything about the sending-off.

“Football is
not
the be all and end all of everything, Jamie. It's maths and English that are going to get you a job, when this football phase of yours is finished. When are you going to learn that?”

It's not a
phase
, Jamie thought to himself, but he knew his mum would really blow her top if he started arguing with her now. There were more pages to come but she flicked through to the head teacher's report at the end, shaking her head.

 

THE HEAD TEACHER

 

Some early warning signs here.

 

Jamie will be aware that we made allowances in order for him to join the school in the middle of the academic year and he therefore bears a certain amount of responsibility for making this work.

 

Jamie should worry less about what others think of him and more about what he thinks of himself.

 

All of us, but mostly Jamie, must ensure that this is a temporary blip rather than the start of a slippery slope.

 

T PATTEN

 

Jamie's mum closed the report and shut her eyes. Her body seemed to be shaking.

“You've let me down big time, Jamie. I spent ages getting you into this school and what do you do? You throw it back in my face. I work every day and you give me no help around the house whatsoever. You can't even be bothered to do the shopping for me when I ask you. I've had it with you.

“All you're interested in is football. Meanwhile, your education is going down the pan and you couldn't care less. Are you planning to actually achieve anything with your life, Jamie?”

“Yes I am. I'm going to be a professional f—”

“Don't! Don't you dare say that! Until you do that English project and start pulling your weight around the house, you're not going to kick another ball. Do you understand me?”

Panic and rage rushed through Jamie. It was the summer holidays! How could she?

“What? No way! You can't do that! You've got no right to tell me what I can and can't do. That's illegal.”

Jamie stood up violently, pushing away the table. His mum's mug of tea tipped over, spilling its contents across the report. But she didn't make a move to clear it up.

“You don't understand,” said Jamie, desperately trying to keep his calm. “I'm just getting somewhere with my football. Mike's given me this amazing book . . . please. . .”

“This is not a discussion, Jamie. No football until you pull your finger out,” Jamie's mum responded. All the emotion had gone from her voice. “And you can clean up this mess for a start.”

Then she walked out of the room. Jamie had never seen his mum like that before.

But she wasn't the only one who was angry.

 

 

 

For the next week, Jamie did not say a word to his mum. Breakfasts came and went in silence. He ate dinners in his room.

She'd organized all her shifts at the hospital to be late-night ones so that she could keep an eye on him during the day. He couldn't believe she was behaving like this. What had he ever done to her?

The only good thing was that Jamie had an escape route. He'd worked out what time his mum had her break during the night shift. That meant that, if he wanted, he could wait and make sure he was there when she made her call home to check up on him and then get his bike out and go down and meet Ollie, Tesh and the others at the bus shelter.

The rest of the time he was in his room playing football games on his computer, listening to music or looking through Kenny Wilcox's book. All he thought about was the day he could get out there and play again.

He didn't want to be anywhere near his mum. How could she do this to him? How could she pretend she cared about him and then stop him from doing the most important thing in his life?

Anyway, she couldn't force him to do his English project or anything else.

If she wanted a battle, she could have one. He'd make her pay.

One afternoon, locked away in his room, Jamie thought about how he could punish his mum for the way she was treating him.

He could never talk to her again. Then she would be sorry.

He could run away. Live with Mike. Or try to find his dad. He had to be out there somewhere. That would make her sorry for what she'd done. Jamie imagined his mum going into his room and finding the window open and Jamie gone. She'd look in the wardrobe and find all his best clothes gone. And his boots.

He wouldn't be there any more and it would all be her fault. She would collapse on to the bed crying, beating her fists into the mattress just like she had when Jamie's dad had left. That was six years ago but Jamie could still remember it like it had just happened. He could remember how seeing his mum cry had made him feel more upset than anything else in the world.

Even thinking about it now made him feel sad again.

Jamie thought about how much his mum would miss him if he ran away. How she would always miss him, every second of every day.

And the more he thought about it, the less angry he became with his mum and the more he began to feel sorry for her.

She hadn't talked about Jamie's dad for years. Did she still love him, even though he left her? Did she want to find a new husband? Did she even have time for a boyfriend? The only man she ever seemed to talk to these days was that guy from the hospital who gave her lifts to work. What was his name? Geoffrey? Jeremy?

He knew the reason his mum had to work the whole time was to pay the bills and that when she came home she had to start on the housework and the cooking. All this for Jamie.

The only things she asked for in return were for Jamie to be nice to her and to try to do well at school.

And what had Jamie done? He'd let her down on both counts.

And now he was ignoring her because she'd asked him to do some English homework for the school he'd begged her to let him join.

Jamie's heart started to feel heavy. There was a painful lump inside his throat. He felt embarrassed. He was lucky to have his mum. He wanted to go downstairs and hug her and say he was sorry.

He wanted her to be proud of him like she used to be.

 

Jamie blinked away a tear. He sat down at his desk and turned on the lamp. He could feel the glow of the bulb against his cheek as he stared at the empty white pages of his workbook. How was he going to fill them?

He tried to remember what Mr Garrick had asked them to do for homework.

“A story,” he'd said. “A story of triumph over adversity, of winning against the odds. . .”

Jamie pulled the lid from his pen and began writing. He knew the story he wanted to tell.

 

Mike Johnson – Broken Dreams

 

Jamie took great care to style each letter as neatly as possible, before grasping his ruler and underlining the title perfectly.

Then the strangest thing happened: once he started writing, he couldn't stop.

Normally when he did his homework –
if
he did his homework – each sentence would take for ever. But somehow, tonight, whole paragraphs were spilling out of his brain and on to the paper in front of him. Because he was writing about football, it seemed easy.

As he recalled the story of Mike being spotted playing in the street and being invited to go for a trial, Jamie's thoughts instantly became words on the page. For once, it didn't seem difficult or boring; he just remembered and wrote.

After an hour of furious writing, Jamie put down his pen to give his aching hand a rest. He flicked back over the pages. He had written so much. Now he just had to do the ending:

 

Mike Johnson walked out of the hospital and he knew that his Hawkstone career was over before it had even begun.

 

So in the end, Mike Johnson never became a Hawks hero. He never became a millionaire either. He was luckier than that. He became a happy man.

 

After he'd finished his story, Jamie went downstairs to show it to his mum.

She was watching TV. Jamie crept up behind her. He wanted it to be a surprise.

“I don't want you to hate me, Mum,” he said, giving her his story to read.

“Hate you?” his mum said, turning off the TV to look at Jamie. “How could I hate you? You're the most precious thing in my life. That's why I want the best for you.”

“I know,” Jamie said.