Mute

In order to be a good consulting detective, you need to experiment. I'd grown bored of destroying ant hills so I tried searching for something new to experiment on. I'd always wanted to know how long it would take for a caterpillar to chew through a trainer shoelace (don't ask me why, I was very ambitious back then). There were plenty of caterpillars in the trees in our school so finding one wasn't difficult. It was a big one too, so it'd make the experiment all the more interesting. I didn't wear trainers so I had to steal one from the school changing rooms. The other boys were out playing football so they wouldn't notice me.

When I was sure I was in an isolated spot, I placed the caterpillar near the shoelace and watched as it began chewing through it. It ate in short bites; it was obviously a thick shoelace because it took about half a minute for it to swallow one mouthful. I lay on my stomach, chin rested on my hands and my feet in the air – a position I always used for concentrating back then. Nowadays, I much prefer to lie on my back, hands together with a few nicotine patches stuck to my wrist.

I lay there for about an hour, examining the trainer as the caterpillar delighted itself in conceiving its leathery meal. It was fascinating – to me anyway – how the owner of the trainers managed to keep them in such pristine condition. The soles were a little specked with dirt from the football field but otherwise fine, there were no holes and they weren't worn out. They were still pure white, though they were obviously years old. This child was organised.

"You've got my trainer"

I looked up, quickly putting the caterpillar in my pocket and saw a boy standing in front of me, about two or three meters away. I recognised him almost immediately. He was the golden haired boy who sat on the opposite side of the classroom from me, next to Molly Hooper. He was a small boy, definitely shorter than me. His hair was a golden brown colour, his messy fringe falling into his eyes so he had to keep flicking it out of the way. His eyes were blue, a nice dark blue which made him look a lot younger than seven. He was wearing a long sleeved black and white stripy jumper which looked knitted and brown shorts which reached his thigh. He was standing at an odd angle; his left foot was lower than his right as he was missing a trainer, his white sock slightly specked with grass stains.

"You've got my trainer" he said again

Brilliant deduction (!), I wanted to say, but I didn't.

"Can I have it back please?"

I gave him a blank look, a look I normally gave to people when I wanted them to go away. I wasn't in the mood to be snapped at; after all it wasn't like I'd be able to say anything in my defence. I expected him to get annoyed at me or simply sigh and retrieve his shoe himself. But he didn't. Instead, he folded his arms and put his legs apart, giving him the appearance of a miniature solider standing at ease. He didn't look annoyed or upset. He looked unusually patient. His eyebrows rose.

"I'll take that as a no then"

I blinked at him, trying to cover up my surprise. He walked over and sat on the right side of me, letting his gym bag slip from his shoulder.

"Guess I'm going to have to stay here until you change your mind then"

Why bother? You'll only get bored, my tongue ached to say.

He unzipped his gym bag and pulled out what I thought at first was a big ball of black yarn. Then I noticed it had two ears and a face. A black sheep?

"This is my favourite toy" he said, more to himself than me, "Do you have any toys?"

Do I look like the kind of boy who has time to sit around playing with toys? Besides, playing with toys is for immature children, is what I would have said if I could. Instead, I just shrugged.

"I called it Billy because I thought it was a boy but it turned out it was actually a girl. So I have to spell it B-I-L-L-I-E. Well, that's what the label said anyway. I take her everywhere with me. She's my lucky mascot. And listen, when you squeeze her tummy, she bleats" he gave her a squeeze and a tiny baa came out. I smiled a little, though it was difficult because my mouth disagreed with me. I even found smiling difficult back then.

"You can touch her if you like"

I blinked again and then gently stroked the tip of the sheep's ear with my finger. It was soft, a bit like touching a ball of fluff. I wouldn't have minded one of them myself. I didn't have many toys; mainly because I experimented on all of them so my teddy bear had been decapitated and my transformer had melted from the neck down.

Where did you get her? I wanted to say but the words couldn't reach my mouth

"My dad gave her to me when he went away to Ireland" he said, as if he could read my mind, "I don't get to see my dad much anymore because he's got this girlfriend"

I was suddenly intrigued

"Him and Mum split up a long time ago but his girlfriend lives in Ireland so he went there to be with her"

You know, it's very naïve to talk about your personal life with a stranger, I would have said.

"When I asked him why he was leaving he said it's because he loves his new girlfriend. But mum says it's just an infat…infatu…"

Infatuation? I longed to say

"Basically, she says it's a five minute wander and he'll eventually come back to us. I think. My mum has to work overtime now to pay the bills. What does your mum do?"

I bent my head a little.

She's dead, my mind suddenly screamed. But I didn't dare say it. I wouldn't have been able to anyway.

"Sometimes I miss having my dad around" he went on, "My little sister Harry – short for Harriet – doesn't really remember him properly so I have to remind her who he is when he comes to visit. Do you have a little sister?"

I had a brother…the words echoed inside my brain, …but not anymore

"Not really the talking type, are you?" he cocked his head at me and smiled.

I tensed, waiting for him to start teasing. I tried to focus my attention on the trainer but all of a sudden I'd forgotten how to deduct. All I saw before my eyes were a flurry of question marks. I felt my cheeks going red.

"Don't be embarrassed" he said almost kindly, "I used to be shy as well"

I am not shy, I thought furiously

"Hey…" he peered at me, his eyes narrowing a little, "…aren't you Mute? The boy in my class? I thought I recognised you!"

I bent my head further, my cheeks blazing fire. I nodded.

"Oh, sorry…" he said, and he sounded like he really meant it, "…I didn't mean to-"

I shook my head again, not really in the mood for patronizing sympathy. I could feel something building up inside me and suddenly my eyes were moist.

"Are you crying? I'm sorry if I upset you, I thought you just didn't like talking. I didn't know that you couldn't…"

I was so confused, I could barely hear him. I'd never cried before, not properly anyway. I knew what crying was, I'd seen plenty of people do it on television and in school but the sudden drops of water falling down my cheeks got my heart pumping. I tried to wipe them away but they kept coming, as if they would never stop. Something suddenly escaped my lips, a small pathetic sound I'd only ever heard from Mycroft. A sob.

And then I felt an arm wrapping itself around my shoulder.

"I really am sorry. I won't ever call you Mute again, I promise" he said softly, "I'm John, do you want to be my friend?"

I stared at him through my sore eyes. This sudden act of kindness baffled me and all I could do was nod.

"Good. So now that we're friends, please can I have my trainer back?"

I nodded and handed it back over to him. He frowned a little at the half chewed lace but just shrugged and put it on his foot.

"I need a new pair anyway. Hey, stop crying now. Boys aren't supposed to cry." He put Billie back in his gym bag and slung it back on his shoulder, "Do you want me to walk you home?"

I glanced up at the sky. It was already golden and father didn't like me being out on my own at night. I didn't live far from school.

I nodded, because I couldn't say "yes"