Read No Place for Nathan for Free Online Page B

he did – I’d already had the heads-up from Jim – and presented him with a big cardboard box full of art stuff, explaining that his treat would be to make a big castle and that on each week that he was good and caused no one any trouble, we would make characters to live in it – princes and princesses and so on.
    He was soon sprawled on the floor, planning his model, happy enough to lie there and draw while I got on with some paperwork. It went like this sometimes; kids just needed space and time out from peers. It was at these times when they were often most inclined to open up to me.
    Nathan was no exception. After about 20 minutes, he looked up and casually told me that he was doing his castle to be like ‘the place me and Jodie sometimes go to’.
    I’d not heard the name – not in connection with Nathan. ‘Jodie?’ I asked. ‘Is she your friend?’
    He nodded. ‘Yeah. We go to a flat to see this man and his dog, and he showed me and her how to do sex.’
    I placed my pen down but didn’t turn to look at him. ‘Oh,’ I said mildly. ‘And this is a real flat, is it, Nathan? Not part of your castle story? I mean, it’s okay if it is. I just wondered.’
    â€˜No, I swear, Miss,’ he said. ‘His name is Michael an’ he stinks. But it’s fine because he gives me and Jodie money and sweets if we go there and do stuff.’
    Now I turned to look at him. ‘What stuff do you do?’ I asked evenly, aware that I was not allowed to ask leading questions.
    He glanced at me. ‘I can’t say, because you always tell and I get done for it. It’s okay, though, Miss,’ he added. ‘I was just saying.’
    And that was that. Nathan went back to drawing his castle ramparts and, with my professional code meaning it would be inappropriate to press him, I went back to my paperwork.
    By now, my file on Nathan was beginning to read like a horror story, but once he’d gone – without further mention of flats or men called Michael – I dutifully wrote up the details of our session and got it into Gary’s in-tray before the day was out. Of Gary himself there was no sign, sadly – he was out of school, at a meeting, but at least I could start my weekend secure in the knowledge that I’d done
my
part, even if nothing happened till Monday.
    But when Monday came, it seemed something further
had
happened, as explained excitably by Nathan himself. He had obviously been waiting for me to arrive for some time, because he was fit to bursting with the need to share his news.
    â€˜Miss, Miss!’ he enthused as soon as he saw me.
    â€˜Hi, babes,’ I said, intrigued. ‘What brings you here, then? You look like a cat on a hot tin roof!’
    I passed him my key so he could open the door for me, struggling as I was beneath an armload of books. ‘Miss, guess what happened this morning?’ he said as he unlocked the door. ‘I was just going up the road from my house on my way to school and I saw a police car, and so I stopped and then it stopped at my house, so I stood and watched and the policeman went up to my front door and knocked on it, an’ my dad answered and the policeman asked if he could talk to me – I even
heard
him, Miss! And my dad said that I wasn’t there, but he could see me, Miss – he could
see
me! I was stood right there up the road but my dad said I’d gone to school!’
    â€˜So what did you do?’ I asked, while Nathan got his breath back.
    â€˜I just ran off and came to school. I’m scared of the police, Miss. My dad says they lock people up all the time. Even good boys and good dads, sometimes.’
    Not knowing what had gone on, I sent Nathan off to the Unit when the bell sounded, and I went up to see if I could find Gary. His door was open and he was on the phone but as soon as he saw me he gestured that I should come in and