I took all this in as well, filing it in my brain automatically. And I was soon to learn more. Cameron, it seemed, was both Tyler’s friend and his hero – he talked about him so much that it soon became obvious that he was perhaps the most important role-model in his life. Though not necessarily of the positive kind – he was a 15-year-old boy Tyler had known since he’d moved in with his dad. And, from what I could glean, he was a bit of a neglected, latchkey kid – the only child of a single mum who was out all the time (for what reason Tyler knew not, but apparently not work), leaving her son to roam the estate where they lived. From what Tyler told me – of how he sofa-surfed, cadged rides and went to friends’ houses for food – I was surprised to learn that, as far as Tyler knew, anyway, he’d never been taken into care himself.
But it was the child in our care who preoccupied me most, not least because, despite Kieron’s confidence, given Tyler’s home background, he’d come with so little to call his own. He didn’t even have a case or holdall – just a green recycling bag filled with clothing, and a cardboard box full of old games and toys. There was the precious annual (separate only because he’d apparently been reading it on the journey), some tatty Marvel comics and figurines, a well-worn football and a torn photograph – of him as a baby, he said – that had been taped back together, plus, of course, the ubiquitous mobile phone. Needless to say, it didn’t take much time to find a place for everything, so it wasn’t long – after a longer tour around the house and garden – before we got our second taste of Tyler’s short temper.
We’d finally got him to remove his hoodie, at least, and I think that was only because it was such a warm day, and he had wandered into the front room to watch some TV, while I got started cooking our tea. I was making sausages and mash – a family favourite – and had just finished peeling the potatoes when I heard the commotion from the living room. Taking off my apron and drying my hands, I walked through to see what was going on. Tyler was standing by the window, clutching the remote control, his face angry and contorted. Mike was on his feet too, and was holding out his hand.
‘Just pass it back to me, Tyler,’ he was saying. ‘It’s a simple enough request. We don’t speak to each other like that in this house.’
‘And I said fuck off!’ Tyler yelled, glaring at poor Mike. ‘All I wanted to do was see if my cartoons were on. And that’s a simple enough ’quest an’ all!’
‘Tyler, you didn’t make a request,’ Mike answered levelly. ‘You just took the remote from beside me and changed the channel, without saying anything. I was watching something – which you could see – but I would have happily turned it over if you’d asked me.’
I went to join Mike. ‘Tyler, give Mike the remote back, please,’ I asked him nicely. ‘It’s almost tea time so there’s no time for cartoons just yet anyway, and, like Mike said, we won’t have that kind of language in this house.’
Tyler switched his glare to me then, and threw the remote onto the sofa, just missing Mike as it landed. ‘I knew this place would be shit!’ he said with a harsh and scornful laugh. ‘I won’t stay,’ he said. ‘I told that John. I’m not going to stay in this shit-hole!’ He then marched across the room, swerving past us.
I’d have probably let him go, but Mike stepped out to stop him. ‘Not so fast, young man,’ he said. ‘We’re not done here.’
‘Could you move, please?’ Tyler asked him.
‘In a moment,’ Mike replied. ‘But first of all you need to know this, Tyler. It doesn’t matter where you come from or what it is you are accustomed to, but we are the adults here, okay? We are entrusted to show you the ropes and look after you properly. And that includes teaching you about good manners and how to treat others. I’m going to let this go just now because it’s your first day here and it’s bound to be strange for you. But I’m telling you now that we don’t tolerate this kind of behaviour. Now go on, either go up to your room or go and play in the garden. Tea will be ready when Casey calls you, okay? It’s up to you if you’re hungry or not.’
I watched, open-mouthed, as Mike then stepped aside to let Tyler pass. Which he did, keeping it zipped as he stomped up the stairs. Mike stared after him, his expression one of intense irritation, as if he’d just hit the point when it all came flooding back – just what fostering a kid like this was actually going to entail. ‘Wow,’ I said, once I knew Tyler was safely out of earshot. ‘That was impressive. Like riding a bike, eh? Or did you have that rehearsed?’
He shook his head, and sat back down on the sofa. ‘Didn’t need to,’ he said, picking up the remote from where Tyler had flung it. ‘You know, I actually even had my hand on this when he took it. Just marched up, pulled it from under my hand, and turned the telly over without so much as a bloody word! If he’d said anything at all – anything – I’d have given him the bloody thing without a second thought. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be spoken to like that for nothing!’
Mike was talking as if he felt he needed to justify giving Tyler a dressing down, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. He’d dealt with him brilliantly, without raising his voice, or showing anger – just using quiet but firm authority. Yet I could see he was rattled about it, and that rattled me. It had been a long time since we’d had a child in, and an even longer time since we’d had a boy – well, if you didn’t count the babies – because our last had been a teenage girl. It had been an even longer time since we’d had a boy of Tyler’s age and level of anger, and I wondered if it wasn’t hitting home to Mike, even as he sat there, just how much of the boundary-maintenance would naturally fall to him.
‘Come help me sort the tea out?’ I asked him, even though I didn’t actually need any. ‘Fingers crossed the message has hit home, and he’ll be down for his tea, and we can start again on a more positive note. It’ll sink in,’ I added, as he rose to join me, his expression still very much one that said, What have we got ourselves into here? ‘You know how it goes, love,’ I reassured him. ‘Sooner or later it will.’
Mike sighed heavily as he followed me through to the kitchen. ‘Let’s hope it’s sooner then, eh?’ he said, as he began gathering up the potato peelings. ‘At least I can escape to work, love. You don’t have that luxury.’ He picked up the vegetable knife, and I knew exactly what he was thinking as he studied it. ‘You might have to be braced for this sort of thing every day.’
That little incident, minor though it was, set a tone that lasted into the weekend. Tyler, perhaps understandably, didn’t want to be with us. Which was not to say he wanted to be home – not with the ‘witch’ living there, anyway – but it didn’t make him any keener on making friends with us. He’d come down to tea and seemed to enjoy it – albeit in a dogged silence – but he seemed entirely resistant to the idea of my hastily penned ‘house rules’. I’d run them up that Thursday evening, as a taster of what was coming on the Monday, including such staples as no swearing, respect others in the house, bed at 8.00 p.m., lights out at 9.00 p.m.
All of them were broken within a day. And were broken several times over by the end of the following week, so by the time the next Saturday rolled around it was less a question of what rules he’d broken than casting about to find one he hadn’t. Worse than that, on that Saturday – after I’d had to tell Tyler off about his bad language for what felt like the tenth time that day – Kieron called in to see us after his morning football session. He couldn’t have chosen a more inopportune time.
‘Afternoon!’ I heard him call through the house. I was sorting the washing out in the back porch and hurried back inside. Tyler was in the living room, and this would be the first time they encountered one another. And it was a relationship I was hoping to nurture.
‘Oh hi, love,’ I said as I saw Tyler, who was sprawled across the sofa, eyeing up Kieron with curiosity. ‘Good game? This is Tyler,’ I added. ‘He’s into football, too, aren’t