C'est la Vie - 12. Chapter 12

Part 12
Peter Blake

“Umm I came to see you and have a talk.”
“How the fuck did you know where I live?”
“Saw you coming into this flat,” then turning and pointing to the road Timothy Clarkson said, “When we were stuck in traffic by the lights over there.”
Peter Blake’s thoughts were in turmoil; here standing on his doorstep was one of the two boys he was planning on doing harm, now what the Hell was he supposed to do. Knowing that the fragile looking boy standing on the doorstep posed no threat to him he stood to one side saying, ”Okay not sure what you bloody want, but come on in.”
“Thanks,” and Timothy Clarkson stepped into the Blake household.
Closing the door behind his visitor Peter Blake led the way into their sitting room. When they were both seated Blake addressed the boy sitting in front of him who had almost disappeared into the armchair.
“So what do you want to talk about?”
“Firstly my parents were informed of the date the case is going to be heard have you been notified yet.”
“Yeah on Wednesday we had a letter from our lawyer. We went to see him to find out if there was anything special we had to do. He told us to be on time at the court and that was it.”
“Has he discussed the case with you at all?”
“Well other than my defence, which is I didn’t mean to stab you it was an accident. He also told me that I’d most probably get a custodial sentence of 2 to 5 years if found guilty, as they were taking knife crimes very seriously now.”
“Oh shit that sounds rough, can’t you do anything that will make sure that you don’t get locked up?”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know maybe if I wrote a letter that could be read out in court by your lawyer saying that you didn’t mean to stab me and how sorry you are.”
“How can that bloody help?”
“Well I was the one who got stabbed right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“And if I say that you didn’t mean it, that should count for something right?”
“I can’t see that working they’ll think it’s a load of crap, that’s been made up to try and get me off with a lighter sentence.”
“Okay then we won’t give it to your lawyer, instead if I was to hand it to the judge when the case starts then he’ll know it’s genuine.”
“Well I suppose so, but what are you going to say in the letter?”
“Umm we could sort of work on it together.”
“Okay,” Peter Blake said rising from his seat, “I’ll get a pen and some paper.” He exited the room and was gone just a few moments then returned with pen and paper. He was about to sit down again then said, “This is no good we need to sit at a table come on into the dining room we can sit at the table there and write the letter.

Timothy with pen in hand looked across the table at Peter Blake, “Okay first of all how do we address the judge? We can’t say dear sir.”
“No I think you have to call him Your Honour that was what my lawyer was calling him when I went up for the hearing.”
“Right then, and he stooped over the piece of paper and started writing, Your Honour, “umm,” he lifted his head and stuck the end of the pen in his mouth and eyes staring at the ceiling thinking, then abruptly started writing again. My name is Timothy Clarkson, Peter Blake the boy who is on trial for stabbing me and who is pleading guilty. He stopped writing and asked his companion across the table, “What was that word your lawyer used when he said you were pleading guilty with?”
“Extenuating circumstances,” Peter Blake supplied.”
“Yeah that’s it,” and Timothy Clarkson started writing again. With Extenuating Circumstances never intended to stab anyone. Yes he was carrying a knife, which is against the law, but it was only meant to frighten my friend Kai Webster and myself. What really happened was when I saw Peter Blake reach for the knife, at the time I didn’t know it was only meant to scare us. So getting concerned I tried to grab his hand at the same time stepping between my friend and Blake. I missed his hand and as he was already bringing the knife upwards when I stepped in front of him I got stabbed instead. So it was partly my fault, if I hadn’t got in the way most probably no one would have been injured. So I would be really grateful and so would Peter Blake, if Your Honour refrained from giving him a custodial sentence, which would mean sending him to a youth detention centre as punishment, but give him a probationary sentence instead.”
Looking across at the boy seated opposite Timothy Clarkson asked, “How do you end it?”
Peter Blake shrugged his shoulders, “No idea. Just say Thanks and sign it.”
“Nah you must be joking you can’t end it like that. It has to be yours faithfully or sincerely, I don’t know which or maybe something else. I’ll check it out when I get home. Do you want to have a read of it?”
“Yeah sling it over,” and Timothy Clarkson passed his letter over the table for the other boy to read.
Peter Blake finished reading the letter then addressing the boy sitting opposite him said, “That’s not bad if you hand it to the judge he’s got to take notice.”
Then he abruptly stopped talking, and looked more intently at frail looking boy opposite him, who a couple of hours ago he was trying to hatch up a plan to do him harm.
“I’m really pleased about the letter but why are you doing this Clarkson?”
“What’s with the Clarkson, the name is Timothy. And the reason I’m doing it is I don’t want you to get locked up. Anyway I think your having to come back to school and face all the kids there is going to be pretty rough on you, kids can be worse than adults I should know. If you think I’m bullshitting you just ask your friend Adam Fletcher he was being treated like a leper and that’s just because he was your mate.
“Shit was it that bad? I haven’t had a chance to speak to him.”
“I know his parents banned him from contacting you. You want me to take a message I’ll see him at school on Monday.”
“Nah, umm okay just say Hi and I’ll see him whenever.”
“Anything you want to say to Hunter.”
“You must be joking he must be pretty pissed off at me.”
“I don’t think so. I think his mind is fully occupied with Samantha Clayton.”
“What?”
“Yeah they’re an item now, and Brian walks around with a stupid grin on his face all the time. So you see you’re the last person he’s thinking about.”
Their conversation was halted by the opening of the front door and a woman’s voice calling out, “Peter can you come here and give a hand with the bags.”
Getting to his feet he yelled back “Be with you in a minute mum,” then looking across to his visitor, “Won’t be a minute stay put.”
“Okay, but just one thing don’t mention the letter to your parents let’s keep it to ourselves.”
Peter Blake handed the letter back to Timothy saying, ”Done,” and left to help with the bags.

He heard the footsteps going into the kitchen then voices which because they were so low he couldn’t make out what was being said.
A few minutes later there were footsteps approaching the room then Peter Blake and his parents entered.
“Mum, Dad, meet my friend Timothy Clarkson.” Peter Blake said walking over to place a hand on the seated boy’s shoulder.
Immediately there was a loud, “What, did you say Clarkson?”
“Yes dad.”
Are you crazy bringing that boy here don’t you know that you have a restraining order preventing you from being within a mile of that boy, and his house?”
“I didn’t bring him here dad, he came on his own to visit.”
Mr Blake now turned his attention to the visitor, “Uh Timothy is that right you came on your own?”
“Yes Mr Blake.”
“Are you alright is there anything you want to eat or drink.”
“I’m fine, Peter and I have been talking about what happened, and can I have a cold drink if you don’t mind.”
Before anyone could move Mrs Blake was saying as she exited the room, “I’ll get it, will orange be alright?” stopping at the door and waiting for a response.
“Orange will be good Mrs Blake.”
“I think it would be better if we all went into the sitting room,” and Mr Blake led the way shouting out to his wife in the kitchen, “Noeline, we’ll be in the sitting room.”
Once they were all seated the two boys on the settee beside each other, and Mrs Blake had provided Timothy with his drink, Mr Blake focusing his attention on the boys asked.
“So what have you two been discussing about the case?”
“Nothing much Mr Blake,” Timothy said, “I was just asking Peter’s how his lawyer was going to plead his case. He told me it would be accidental stabbing with extenuating circumstances he then informed me what the lawyer said about the sentence he could expect to get if he were to be found guilty of stabbing with intent, with which he’s been charged.”
“Do you believe Peter when he says it was an accident.”
“Yes, sure Mr Blake, I think he was just as scared as anyone when he saw me get stabbed.”
“Well I hope the jury sees it like you do Timothy, otherwise I’m afraid like are other son Derek, Peter will get a custodial sentence.” Mr Blake shook his head and paused for a moment before continuing, “I just don’t understand it we tried our utmost to give the boys all they wanted. Alright we weren’t rich enough to give them the best but we did what we could. We also tried to instil some sort of discipline into them but it just seems to have all gone wrong.”
Timothy could see the look of despair on the parent’s faces they just couldn’t believe that their youngest son would now be following his brother to a reform institution.
“I think there’s a good chance that Peter may get off with just probation” Timothy said, with the purpose of trying to give the parents some hope, to make them feel that there was a chink of light at the end of the tunnel.
They discussed other issues such as school and what was being said about Peter until Timothy looking at his watch said, “I think I’d better get going my parents may start getting worried if I don’t show soon.”
“Stay and have something to eat,” Mrs Blake said, “You can phone home and tell them where you are.”
“No thank you Mrs Blake, I have to get back,” rising from his seat Timothy made his goodbyes to the Blake’s’ and followed by Peter headed for the front door.
Opening the door to let his visitor out Peter Blake asked, “Why didn’t you want my parents to know about the letter?”
“I didn’t want to build up their hopes,” Timothy said standing outside on the doorstep, “You’re pleading guilty to carrying a knife. But the prosecution are charging you with intent. If my letter doesn’t do any good then it will be up to the jury and the Judge to decide what sentence you get. If we tell your parents about the letter they might think you’ll get off with probation and raise their hopes. If the Judge doesn’t take any notice of what we’ve written then there’s no telling what sentence you’ll get. So I think its best we keep it as it is and if worst comes to the worst they won’t have their hopes dashed.”
“Yeah I see what you mean. You coming around again?”
“Yeah, if you want me to.”
Peter Blake hesitated for a moment then with bowed head said, “It would be good if you did, got no one to talk to other than my parents.”
“Would it be okay if I brought Kai with me.”
“Shit Timothy he’d be the last person to want to come around here and if he did he’d most probably beat the shit out of me.”
“No he won’t just leave it to me, I’ll see you next Saturday.”
“You can’t come before then.”
“No not during school days, my parents are a bit iffy about me going out on my own in the evenings so I’ll see you then.”
“Okay see you next Saturday.” And Peter Blake watched the diminutive form disappear out of sight then closed the door and went back to sit and contemplate what one small boy had done and how he’d turned his mind and way of thinking upside down.