Mr Dibbs Fixes Bikes

34

"No. You're not in trouble." Mumbled responses. That's all he ever got from her in her moods. Lift. Twirl. Tap. Lift. Twirl ... "Do you want to go back to London?"

It took Frederick a second before he realised that Mum had caught hold of the phone and now looked at him. He wasn't certain if this were a trick question or not. Whether this was a test to see if he wanted to run away. Did his response show whether he felt guilty or not? Did she want him to say one thing and not the other and would he find himself in trouble because he didn't choose the one she wanted him to choose? He hated getting put on the spot like this, but it was the first real thing she'd said all day.

"Yes." Even as he said it, he changed his mind. "No. I don't know."

In London, he knew where he stood. He knew the rules and knew who made the rules. He knew who he could talk to and who he should avoid. Even in boroughs he didn't live in, there was an unspoken knowledge that came with being a Londoner that told you this guy was alright, avoid this boy like the plague. You don't walk down this street unless you knew the right people. That street you stayed out of because nine-nine-nine would get a dozen different calls. Come quick! Black kid walking while black. You knew. Everyone knew.

Up here, there was none of that. Frederick didn't know the geezers or the wide boys. There were chavs, or scallys, or whatever they called them up here, but they weren't, for certain, bad boys. Frederick couldn't tell who was what, where he could go or where he should avoid. Every street had its curtain twitchers, but also people who smiled and waved at everyone. Everyone said 'alright', or ''ow do', whether they liked you or not. It was confusing.

But, he had started to enjoy his life here. He didn't feel on edge all the time and, despite recent events, didn't feel as though he had copper eyes watching his every move, waiting for him to make the very slightest misstep and open himself up for a Stop and Search. There were nice people here. Good people. Like Jeanie and Deano. And Mister Dibbs.

"I don't know, either." For a moment, she opened up her phone, looking at something on the screen. Her thumb hovered over something. "Do you think his shed would have been burned down if we hadn't moved here? Would Mister Dibbs have had all the trouble he's had? Would he be in hospital?"

He had never heard his mum talk like this before. Not to him. She never treated him as though his opinion mattered. Not over something important. She asked him the usual, mundane things. Things that weren't important, but never about something like this. His opinion hadn't mattered at all when she decided to move up here in one of her flashes of bright, happy moods. She had said what they were doing and that was that.

"No. I don't. But I don't think it's just because of us. I think its an excuse by Mic ... by someone to make them think they've got a reason to be nasty." She had caught his slip of the tongue and he dropped down further in the chair, tucking his chin into his chest. "And I know Mister Dibbs would say it wasn't our fault. I know it."

He had talked to Jeanie, whispering while Deano was doing his own thing, leaving the two of them alone in their living room, playing games. She had said Micky was always that kind of kid. If it wasn't Frederick he was picking on, it'd be someone else. Frederick had felt awkward, hanging out with Jeanie after ghosting her, but she didn't seem bothered. When Deano had turned up, offering to look after Frederick while Mum went to hospital with Mister Dibbs, Jeanie had welcomed him as though he hadn't been avoiding her.

"I'm not well, Frederick." She clicked her phone off and looked at him. Really looked at him and then reached over as she saw his face drop. "Not like that. I'm not going to be leaving you or anything, but I need help. I'm just not certain if I should get that help up here or back in London. Wherever I do, I don't think it will be easy for a while."

"I don't know what to say." She was talking about her moods, or at least that was what he thought. "I don't know which to choose, but I know Mister Dibbs will need someone when he gets out of hospital and I'd like to help look after him."

"So would I." Mum flicked her legs out from under her, digging her feet into her slippers and standing up. She leaned over and kissed his head, smoothing down his tight curls. "I'm going to have a bath. Go play your games, if you want. Or see what's on streaming. Isn't there a new superhero film just added?"

"Yeah." He didn't know that and now wanted to fire up the streaming service, but he could wait a few minutes. "Mum? You know I love you, don't you? I mean, you know that, right?"

"I do." She had moved away, toward the door leading to the hallway and the stairs, but now he felt her arms wrap around him from behind. "And I love you. I know you're a good boy. Things will work out, you'll see. For all of us."

And then her arms slipped from him and she was gone. Not long after, he heard the bath running and he couldn't wait any longer, he scrambled for the remote control and fired up the streaming service, scrolling through the movies until he found the film Mum had mentioned. Even as he started it, his mind returned to his mum and Mister Dibbs. He didn't know what he'd do if he lost either one of them but, as he heard Mum start to sing upstairs, he put those worries aside. She was here and, soon, Mister Dibbs would come back and everything would get better. It had to.