Swings and Roundabouts

Nathan sat on the swing or should it be said, Nathan had squeezed himself into the swing, and was valiantly attempting to find a comfortable position. His feet were firmly planted on the ground and in one hand he was precariously balancing a cup of take away coffee. On the other swing his wife Lauren was sitting much more comfortably , gently moving back and forwards.

Their son Jeremy was over at the flying fox, patiently waiting his turn in a queue that never seemed to shorten. Jeremy was 13 years old, not very tall, slightly chubby and wore glasses. He had a round honest looking face which his grandmother called his best feature. Occasionally he would look over at his parents, give them a thumbs up sign and then turn in the hope that the queue had miraculously shortened.

A miserable silence prevailed between Nathan and Lauren with each of them staring ahead, not making any eye contact. Eventually Lauren said, “Well what are we going to do? We have to do something. Jeremy wet the bed this morning. He hasn't done that since he was four years old . I think you will have to go and talk to Oliver's dad”. She slid off the swing, picking up her empty coffee cup which was on the ground in front of her. Nathan watched her walking over to put it in the recycle bin. Although now in her mid forties, she had kept her figure, her hair was still its natural blonde, which was now cut in a stylish bob. Wearing fashionable jeans with a smart white jumper she could easily have passed for a 30 year old, Nathan thought to himself.

He looked down at his stomach which had certainly blown out over the last few years. His jeans were now too tight and he knew he needed new ones, but didn't want to admit it to himself that he needed a bigger size. Pressure of work, a new boss and too much alcohol had all conspired to enlarge his girth. Another thought , one that was often in his head, was “I must go on a diet and cut down on the alcohol”. Somehow it never seemed the right time to do this!

When he looked up Lauren was standing in front of him, her arms crossed, saying “Well” in that determined voice she used when she expected him to do something. Nathan realised he had to respond or things might turn a little ugly. “I suppose I could go and talk to Oliver's dad but I really don't know him. You know his mum a bit better. Couldn't you talk to her?”

The arms stayed folded, not a good sign, Nathan thought. “He's your son”. This was always said when Lauren wanted to prove a point. Somehow the fact that Jeremy was a boy meant that whenever there was anything difficult to do, it fell to Nathan. In Lauren's eyes it was the Dad's responsibility to deal with the son. The fact that Jeremy was also her child and they didn't have any other children, for example no daughter, didn't seem to enter into the equation. Nathan knew better than to say, “He's your son as well”. That was like a red rag to a bull. It had been tried a few times before with disastrous results.

Just as they were both standing facing each other, suddenly Jeremy came running over. He was red faced and looking upset. “Oliver's here with his parents”, he burst out. Both Nathan and Lauren turned around to see Oliver and his parents walking in to the playground through the gate on the far side. Lauren immediately put her arm around Jeremy protectively, saying to Nathan, “Now is your chance, I will take Jeremy home”. Without further ado she walked off with their son, leaving by the gate nearest to them, before Nathan had a chance to respond,argue or in fact say anything.

Pushing his fingers through his hair, a gesture typical of him, when he was under pressure or in a quandary as to what to do, he slowly got off the swing. What he did know was that he couldn't go home without having tried to do something or he would be in the dog house for who knows how long!!

With his hands in his pockets he tried to stride confidently over to Oliver's parents. His heart was actually quaking in his boots. Oliver's dad Quentin was a very successful and well known lawyer, in fact a Barrister, in their city and Nathan had always felt inferior to him on the few occasions when their paths had crossed at school functions. His wife, Angela, was one of those women that completely intimidated Nathan. She was always expensively dressed, hair perfectly coiffeured, make up impeccable, attractive in an upper class way. She exuded confidence, was involved in many charity organisations and always seen at fancy social events.

As he approached them he had no idea what he was going to say. Luckily Oliver had run off to join another boy he had seen on the flying fox. Before he could stop the banal word coming out of his mouth, Nathan found he had said, “Hi”. Inwardly he thought, “Oh my God that is pathetic plus it had come out like a little squeak, they will think I am an idiot if they don't already”.

Angela looked at him like he was an annoying mosquito she would like to crush before saying in her false English accent, “Well Nathan what do you want”. Quentin stood there brushing a piece of imaginary dust off his smart navy jacket. “Why wear that to a playground you stuck up snob” was the thought that went through Nathan's mind as he was thinking how to best phrase what he wanted to say. What he really wanted to say was that their son Oliver was a bully and a thug and should be expelled from the school. However that would probably not help things! It wasn't fair was it that he and Lauren had to scrimp and save to send Jeremy to this school and these pricks wouldn't miss the yearly fees, an iota.

They had decided to send Jeremy to this expensive school because it had a very good music reputation as well as a fine sporting tradition. Sports was certainly not something that Jeremy excelled at, whereas music definitely was. He was a talented trumpet player and loved playing in the school band. Last year, his first, he had settled in well and all had seemed well on the horizon. Then this year the friends he had made from last year were now not in his class which he was disappointed about but was learning to cope with. Then the business with Oliver had started.

At first Nathan and Lauren hadn't realised that anything was wrong. They both worked full time, so weren't at home when Jeremy came home from school. By the time they got home it was all go, for dinner, homework and off to bed. A few weeks into the term, Jeremy started being hard to get up in the mornings, something that had never happened before. He hadn't wanted to eat breakfast, pushing the cereal around his plate, complaining of pains in his stomach. On this particular morning Lauren had gone off early to work so Nathan was left to deal with his son.. He was always more sympathetic than Lauren, who basically believed that you had to be dying before you didn't go to school. Nathan had sat himself down opposite his son, asking him outright what the matter was.

Like a typical teenager, no words had come out of Jeremy's mouth, just more pushing around of his mostly uneaten cereal. Scratching his head, Nathan had said,” Look son there must be something the matter as you have been quiet for days now, you don't eat breakfast, you don't want to go to school whereas last year you couldn't wait to get there.” More pushing around of cereal before Jeremy had eventually answered. “ I miss my friends from last year”. “Yes sure” Nathan had replied, “ I know they are not in your actual class, but you must be able to see them at recess and some of them are in the band”. Jeremy had taken a mouthful of orange juice before responding, “They don't seem to want to be friends any more”, he had mumbled. “Why not?” The words had tumbled out of Nathan's mouth before he realised how inane they were. Another mumble had come from Jeremy. “Oliver”. Nathan had just poured himself another cup of coffee, spilling it in the process, so hadn't properly concentrated on what Jeremy had just said. “Sorry Jez, what did you say”? Oliver Messen, a boy in my class, he picks on me and says horrible things about me so the others ignore me now.

Somewhat stumped by this answer which had come rushing out of Jeremy's mouth at the rate of knots, Nathan had taken a sip of coffee before saying, “Who is this Oliver character?” “He's the leader of this gang at school. Everyone does what he says or else he beats them up”had been the reply. “Well don't the teachers realise this and do something about it” had been Nathan's indignant response. “ Jeremy was getting into his stride now, “No they don't do anything about it , because Oliver is so sneaky. He makes sure someone else gets the blame. They are too scared of him to say anything so Oliver always gets away with it. Just recently he has really started to pick on me, calling me “Nerd, Ipad kid, and things like that. Dad I just hate it there now”. Tears had started to trickle down his face.

Nathan had felt the anger rising up inside him. He'd taken another gulp of coffee, far too quickly, consequently choking in the process. How dare this Oliver do this to his Jeremy. He wanted to punch him. However he had kept those feelings hidden, saying to Jeremy that he would think about what to do, and talk to his mum about things. Somewhat mollified Jeremy had gone off to school minimally happier.

Then the disaster had happened. Later on that day a distraught Lauren had called him saying she had just had a call from the school telling her that Jeremy had been in a fight and was now outside the Principal's office waiting for them to go and see the principal and take Jeremy home. In the car on the way to the school Nathan had filled his wife in with the conversation at the breakfast table. When he had told Lauren what this Oliver had been calling Jeremy, her eyes had filled with tears, before she had said, “The little prick”. Not a word that Lauren normally used. Both of them had been silent after that outburst, arriving at the school, going straight to the Principal's office where they had found a red eyed Jeremy sitting mournfully staring at his shoes. On seeing them he had hung his head muttering “Sorry”. Nathan had gone up to him, putting his arm around him, not saying anything but had felt Jeremy lean in to him.

Sitting in with the Principal had put Nathan in mind of his own school days when he had been hauled up in front of the Headmaster (as the Principal was called in his time) for some misdemeanour . Then caning was the answer to everything but now of course that was definitely not allowed. On coming out of his uncomfortable reverie of his own past, he had found the Principal telling them that no matter what had been said to Jeremy hitting was absolutely not acceptable. Therefore he had no alternative but to suspend Jeremy for the rest of the week, (three days) so he could reflect on his actions. No matter what Nathan and |Lauren had tried to say, his mind had been made up and that was that.

So now, on the third day of Jeremy's suspension, here Nathan was confronting Oliver's dad in the playground. Oliver of course had not been suspended. Impulsively Nathan came out with, “My son's been suspended because your son is a bully”. Silence. Nathan felt the charged atmosphere but ploughed on, “Apparently Oliver has been saying mean things to Jeremy and telling the other kids not to be friends with him.Then three days ago Oliver tipped up Jeremy's lunch box and poured it all into the dirt, saying really mean things to him.” That so enraged Jeremy that he hit him” and , Nathan said boldly, “I don't blame him. “What are you going to do about it?” Interestingly it was not Quentin the smart jacket man who answered him, but Angela, who said in a very high and mighty tone, “How dare you suggest that my son is a bully. He is not. Your son is obviously a little thug”. “Well two can play at this game”, thought Nathan, noting that she had said “My son” not “Our son”. “He is not, he has never hit anyone in his life. Your son must had provoked him beyond belief for Jeremy to do what he did. Perhaps you need to talk to Oliver to find out what really happened.” Quentin then decided to join the conversation, saying rather surprisingly, 'Do you know what Oliver said to Jeremy?” Nathan informed him of the choice expressions that Oliver had used. Quentin looked over at his wife, shrugging his shoulders, with a look that said , “Well what have I been telling you”?

Just at that moment, when it looked like an impasse had settled upon this uncomfortable trio there was a scream from the flying fox. All three turned their heads as if choreographed in a musical. What they saw made them all start running over to the scene of the scream. Oliver was punching a smaller boy in the stomach really viciously. The victim was yelling in pain and trying to protect himself from the attacks on his person. Oliver was a big strong tall lad, whose punches would have had a lot of power to them. Quentin took the lead, reaching Oliver first, pulling him off the child, saying to him in no uncertain terms, “Ialways knew you were a bully. I just couldn't prove it”. He held Oliver in a vice tight grip while Nathan went over to the little kid helping him up, while looking around for a parent. The poor child was shaking with sobs , obviously in pain. Just as Nathan was trying to soothe him and see what damage had been done, his mother rushed up, enfolding him in her arms, whispering words of comfort to him while looking daggers at Oliver.

Looking over at Angela, Nathan saw that she had gone completely white, as if in a state of shock. She was making no attempt to say anything to her son, but she was giving Quentin a look of complete hatred, the like of which Nathan had never seen. Then she spat with great venom, “How dare you discipline my son like that. I know you have never liked him, its been obvious that you have only barely tolerated him ever since you found out he wasn't your son. I am taking him home now, you have 24 hours to pack your bags and get out of my house”. So saying, she grabbed a rather shaken Oliver, marching him straight out of the playground.

Quentin went over to the mother of the young boy, apologising profusely, offering to pay any medical costs and giving the mother his business card. He then turned to Nathan saying, “Can we go and have a drink? There's a pub across the road.”

As they sat over their beers, the whole story came out . Apparently soon after Quentin had married Angela, a second marriage for her, she told him she was pregnant. He innocently believed the child was his until a couple of years ago when their marriage had gone sour, things becoming very bitter between them and he had discovered that Oliver was not his. This had explained a lot to him ,as he told Nathan, he felt that he had never been able to bond with him, never really liked him. After a second beer Nathan felt emboldened to bring up the school episode again. Quentin readily agreed to go and see the Principal with Nathan to talk about the situation and provide the school with the truth of the matter.

As Nathan was walking home, he thought to himself, “How appearances can deceive. I thought this guy was a really snobby prick with his tailored jacket and superior manner but actually he's a decent man. He was welcomed home by an anxious wife and son. Closing the door and wrapping them both in his arms he told the story. As Lauren said to him after Jeremy had gone to bed, “Life is a matter of swings and roundabouts isn't it?” “And Flying Foxes”, Nathan replied!