The Next Day

The next day after the events of Mate Crime,  James and I went to the police. I wanted support for Tom, who was, I felt he was being exploited and used. He needed support. Things were escalating. The police officer was really sympathetic. He took records. He understood the money was not the issue. He saw that Tom was being exploited. He would get someone to go round to the boys houses and tell them they were not to come in to our house. I felt we had been listened to.

The next day, after college, James flew in to the house. Tom had met him, with a group of lads, getting off the bus. Had James told the police? They were in a lot of trouble. They all surrounded James threatening him. Tom was shouting at him. James came home. There was fear in his voice, terror in his eyes.

Then Tom appeared. He was furious at me. How dare I report them to the police. They were going to sort me out. So was he. He pinned me in to the kitchen. His face in mine. He was screaming in my face. His spit was on my glasses. His pupils in his eyes were tiny. He was screaming he was going to kill me. He was going to slit my throat. How f-ing well dare I. He had friends who would sort me out. They would kill me. I don’t know how long this lasted.

We both heard the phone click in the lounge. Someone was on the phone. Tom launched upstairs. I heard him screaming at James. How f-ing well dare he. He was f-ing well going to kill him. I turned to go upstairs, and saw something outside our front door. There was a gang of boys, 5 or 6 six of them. Stood at the front door. One of them saw I had seen them and stuck his middle finger up at me. One of the others laughed at me.

Tom charged down the stairs. I stood back, let him go past me. He stopped. He put his face in mine. I was going to be sorry. I was going to be so f-ing sorry. He ran out of the front door. I went upstairs to find James on the phone to the police. He was saying Tom had gone. Yes we were safe. Yes we would lock the door. I looked out of the window, Tom was walking off with the group, two of them saw me looking. One did the shape of a gun and gestured to shoot me, the other stuck his middle finger up at me.

The police arrived. James was scared. It was the same police officer who we had seen the day before. They would drive round. See if they could see him. If there was any trouble, we were to call the emergency number again. If he had not arrived back by 11 that night we should call back. They left. We waited.

James was getting more and more upset, and more scared as to what Tom was doing. We decided to watch something on TV. If Tom was not back after the programme, we would the police back. The programme finished. It was gone half ten at night. He had been gone 4 and a half hours. Nothing. We phoned the police.

Later the police arrived. One was called Jill. She looked the same age as me. She knew the area. She knew all the names we mentioned. She filled out a missing persons form. She was going to do a local search, knock on some doors, then she was going to launch a missing persons report on social media. She understood why we couldn’t have pictures, but that was the best way to find people. She was full of empathy, but knew what needed doing. They left.

We heard nothing. We sat. We waited.

Midnight.We had Hot Chocolate

One o’clock.I managed to get James to go to bed.

Two o’clock. The silence echoed.

Two fifteen. Tom walked in. He had lost his phone. He had been looking for it. He had no idea where it was. It was in the kitchen. In his rush to go out, he had left it. I called the police to say he was back, but I needed them to come back to see him.

Jill, the police officer came back. She was very firm with him. She had been worried. She was going to put it all over Facebook that he was missing, had he not come back. He said he was cross that his friends were in trouble. She knelt down, looked him in the eye and told him what his “friends” had done was illegal. What they had done was wrong. They were not allowed in the house again. As long as they were clear. She left.

I went to bed. It was nearly 3 in the morning. My alarm would go off in 3 hours for work…

Here’s the next installment An Epilogue?. Thank you so much for your support xxx

As always, names changed…

 photo Week2_zpsamo5gghm.jpg

7 thoughts on “The Next Day

Add yours

  1. It sounds like you’ve had another tough week. Here’s hoping your son realises these ‘friends’ are trouble soon. It’s great that you had such good support from the police. Thanks so much for sharing with #Blogstravaganza, sending you lots of strength xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Blimey, what a rough time you’re having. The complexity of managing friends expectations and wanting there approval at any cost as well as managing family is overwhelming for our children. I hope that you find a way through it.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

Schools, education and adoption...

...thoughts, news and views from a headteacher about supporting the needs of adopted children in schools.


A Lifestyle Blog

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

No More Than Twenty

Two 'mo's, one LO, the dog and 9 chickens

Thricemarked's musings

...everything that won't fit in 140 characters


A blog about adoption, speech & language, family


Our adoption journey with Bubble and Squeak


Mum. Chef Widow. Nurse and everything in-between!

Herding Chickens and Other Adventures in Foster and Adoptive Care

These are the adventures of one family in foster care and adoption.


an adoption support community

%d bloggers like this: