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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Simba - 11. Simba Ch 11
“How did you go, in your A level exams?” I asked, “I have no idea, I never got the chance to find out,” Aaron replied. “What subjects did you study?” I asked, “Biology, Computer Science, Economics, Mathematics, English Literature, Physics, Chemistry and Music,” Aaron replied.
“Wow, that is quite a study load, so you must have been fairly good at your studies?” I responded, “I have no idea, Mum never showed me my report cards, once I was in High school and the teachers never said anything good or bad, so I guess I must have passed them ok,” Aaron replied.
“How about we go to your old school tomorrow, and see if we can find out how well you really went in you’re A- levels,” I suggested, and eventually Aaron agreed. “Were did you live, and what school did you go to?” I asked my cousin. “Manchester, and I went to Manchester Grammar School, because my father paid my education fees,” Aaron replied.
“Even after he died?” I asked, and Aaron shrugged his shoulders and I could see he was thinking about it, “He must have set up a fund of some kind to keep me attending there, as I began attending that school after my parents separated and eventually divorced, when I was eight,” Aaron replied.
“Well sounds like you had a top notch education, I went to a private school too, so I know what it is like going to one,” I said, and Aaron nodded his head in understanding.
The following morning, we set off on the three-hour long train journey from Oxford to Manchester, and from there we caught a cab to the school, arriving shortly after 11am. “Wow, this looks very impressive, a lot more spread out than I expected,” I said as we walked through the front gates and down the long driveway.
At the front of the main buildings, we passed through an archway and entered a inner courtyard, as we approached the front of the administration building and entered. “Well, I be, Aaron Tomlinson, I haven’t seen you since you disappeared straight after your A level exams,” a lady at the front counter said and I saw Aaron smile.
“Hello Mrs Beecham, it is nice to see you again,” Aaron replied, “Looks like you could put on a bit more weight young man, you look far too skinny for a nearly 21 year old,” the lady said to Aaron, before looking at me and frowning.
“My apologies for my cousins rudeness, my name is Jacob Blackwood, from Adelaide, South Australia,” I said to the lady, and I saw Aaron go slightly red. “It is a pleasure to meet you Mr Blackwood, now Aaron, what is the reason for this visit?” the lady said, returning her attention to Aaron.
“Mrs Beecham, I… I have come to…” Aaron started to say and he could not continue, so I jumped in. “Dear lady, we have come for special request, since leaving school so suddenly, Aaron has had no contact with his mother, due to his stepfather kicking him out of home straight out after the final exams. He has no idea how he went with his exams, and we have come to see if we can find out the results,” I explained.
“You were kicked out of home? My word that is not very nice, have you been living on the streets, is that why you are so skinny?” Mrs Beecham asked, and all that Aaron could do was nod his head yes, as he kept his head down.
“Oh… well I think you mother should be ashamed of herself for kicking out her son, who was dux of the school,” Mrs Beecham said.
“Did you say Dux of the school? Aaron did you hear that, you were the top student, well done cousin, I am very proud of you,” I said happily, and Aaron looked up with a shocked look on his face, and tears came down his cheeks, and Mrs Beecham looked very worried.
“Oh my dear boy, you have had a rough time haven’t you, come into my office and we will discuss this some more, you too please Mr Blackwood,” Mrs Beecham said. Once we were seated in a huge office, Mrs Beecham made a quick phone call, and a few moments later there was a knock on the door, and it opened and a lady with a tea trolley walked in.
“I have been so busy, lets have some morning tea shall we, and we can discuss what had gone so wrong in your life,” Mrs Beecham said to us, as we settled down to a long chat over morning tea.
By the time we had got Mrs Beecham up to date on Aaron’s past two years and a little about me, there was another knock on the door, and Mrs Beecham called for the person to enter.
The man that entered looked at us both then smiled to Aaron, “How are you going mate,” he said to my cousin, “I am good now, and I am sorry, I do know your face but I can’t remember… Derek, Derek Masterson,” Aaron said when he remembered.
“Yes, that is correct, you remember me, I am a junior teacher at the school now,” the man said as he shook hands with my cousin. “Derek, this is my 3rd cousin from Adelaide in South Australia, Jacob Blackwood, who has rescued me from my past difficulties,” Aaron said making the introductions.
“Yes, nice to meet you, I have been following all of your adventures, when they reach the media here,” Derek said as he shook my hand. “You know him?” Mrs Beecham asked, “Only by reputation, Mrs B, you are looking at one of the most famous young Australians, who has climbed most of the highest mountains in the world.
Including Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, the Everest Base Camp in Nepal, Mount Kenya in Kenya, the Matterhorn in Switzerland, Mount Cook in New Zealand and Mount Bellamy on the Kokoda Trail of Papua New Guinea, to name a few,” Derek announced.
“My word, that is indeed a lot of mountains, you are a very adventurous young man,”’ Mrs Beecham said in surprise. “Yes, and I owe it all to my Uncle Nathaniel who came with me on all of those climbs, and most of the treks that I have walked. Sadly I can’t do any tough climbs any more, as I have an artificial foot now, due to an accident on my last hiking trip in Tasmania, two years ago,” I replied.
“That is a shame, I was wondering why you were no longer in the media any more,” Derek responded. “Yes well, although I have a disability, I am now in the Australian Army, so I do work even if it is mostly desk work, and I am part of the way through a double degree at university in Adelaide, which I hope to continue next year,” I replied.
“Anyway, Mrs Beecham called me in here today, to present to you Aaron, your GSC A-level Graduation Certificate, along with you Dux of the School award,” Derek said as he reached into his briefcase and produced two framed certificates, and handed them to Aaron, who I could see was close to tears.
“Thankyou, I don’t know what to say,” Aaron eventually said, as he accepted the awards and shook Derek’s hand, before Derek left the office. “Well now, I am glad that we have finally been able to present that to you, what are you going to do now?” Mrs Beecham asked.
“Well, I am returning to Australia with my cousin in about a week, with a short stop to Jacob’s African home in Tanzania, at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro, and from there I am not really sure, but I have a feeling that my life will be so much better once I get there,” Aaron replied smiling.
After leaving the school, we caught a cab, I asked Aaron the address of his former home, which he gave to the driver, and about ten minutes later we arrived at Seacombe Avenue in Farrowfield, and we were standing outside a two level detached house with a small front yard. Aaron slowly walked through the gate and up to the front door, and pressed the buzzer, while I stood a few steps back from him.
“Yes, what do you want? We don’t give to any charity cases you know,” the large woman, said who looked very untidy, with loose clothing and a glass of what looked like alcohol in her hand. Aaron tried to say something, but could not, as he took a step back, and I stepped to one side to avoid colliding with him.
“Do I know you?” the lady asked as Aaron backed away some more, before turning and dashing out of the property and down the street. “Lady, if you do not know your own first born son, then you should be ashamed of yourself,” I said to her in an angry tone, and I could see her face go all pale and she stumbled back a little.
“Who is at the door mum?” a young voice called out, before a boy appeared from behind her, and he looked to be about eight years old, “Are you his whore?” the lady eventually asked, and I took two steps forward and swung hard and slapped her face, before shaking my hand from the stinging.
“Lady, I am Aaron’s third cousin from Australia, come to rescue him from what you have done to your own son, and no I will not apologise for slapping you just now, as I think it was well deserved for the insult you just made. Now we have come for Aaron’s passport and anything else that you may still have of his, then you will not see Aaron ever again,” I said to the lady.
Aaron’s mum stumbled back a few times, before falling flat on her backside, almost squashing her other son who stood behind her. “Are you ok mum, who is this man with a funny accent that just hit you?” one of the boys asked, “Never mind son, I made a terrible mistake, and what I got was well deserved.
Go to the laundry now, and at the back of the cupboard under the sink, you will find a plastic crate, can you bring it here please,” Aaron’s mum said to her other son, who disappeared deeper into the house, and returned a few minutes later, with the said plastic crate with a lid on it.
By now, Aaron’s mum was back on her feet, although she looked badly shaken by everything that has happened, and she had tears in her eyes.
“Tell him… tell him that I am so sorry, my husband is… well he doesn’t understand, and I am sorry, and I wish him a good and happy life in Australia,” she said to me, as she handed over the crate, before backing away and closing the door.
Moments later, I heard crying from inside, as I turned and walked away from the house and followed the direction that Aaron had gone, and I found him seated on the ground at the next intersection. “Hey, she gave me this, so let’s get out of here, and head back to Oxford,” I said to Aaron as I pulled out my phone to call a cab.
A few minutes later as we waited for the cab, two boys approached us, and I soon realised that it was Aaron’s brothers, and I gave him a little nudge to let him know. “Are you our brother Aaron?” the oldest of the two boys asked Aaron, and shocked to see his little half brothers after such a long time, all he could do was nod his head yes to them.
Suddenly two pairs of arms were wrapped around him and the boys were crying, and I just watched as I saw mixed emotions on Aaron’s face, before he squatted down and wrapped his arms around them. “Hey boys, my how you have both grown, since I last saw you,” Aaron said to them.
“When the taxi cab arrived, I told Aaron that I would take the cab around the block slowly, and I climbed in along with the box, without waiting for an answer, and gave instructions to the driver. When the cab returned nearly ten minutes later, Aaron said goodbye to the boys before climbing in the cab, and slowly we drove off, heading for the train station.
After a light lunch at the station, we boarded the next train for Oxford, and this gave Aaron time to look inside the crate, to see what his mother had kept for him. The first thing he pulled out was his passport, which is still current for another 8 months, but the photo is very out of date, so I sent a text to Uncle Nat.
“Hi Uncle, we have retrieved some of Aaron’s stuff from his former home, and although his passport is current, it has a photo of him when he was twelve years old, is it possible to get a replacement passport, before our flight out of London. His mother was not very nice, and received a hard slap from me when she insulted me, and I do not regret it, but she did say that it was wrong of her to say that nasty stuff to me before I left.
Her other sons caught up with us soon after, and I left them to talk for a little bit before we headed to the train station. We also went to Manchester Grammar, Aaron’s old school, where we learnt that Aaron was Dux of the school for his graduation year, and he was presented framed certificates of his Dux award and his GSE A-Level Graduation Certificate, presented by a former pupil and now teacher at the school.
It was quite an emotional moment for Aaron, but he is happy, knowing that he is coming back to Australia to be with family who care. Thanks for the diversion for the trip home, see you soon, love from your nephew, Jacob.” After sending the rather long text message, I leaned back and closed my eyes, as Aaron continued to look through the crate.
When we finally arrived back at the hostel, Aaron was so tired from all that had happened today, that he curled up on his bed and was soon fast asleep, so I pulled out my laptop, and did a bit of web searching, to decided what to do for the next eight days.
After a fair amount of searching, I decided that a hiking trip through Scotland would be a good way of getting to know Aaron some more, as well as getting plenty of exercise and fresh air. Firstly, we would take the overnight train up to Edinburgh, and from there we would begin a 62-mile or 100-kilometre long hike along the canal towpath from Edinburgh to Glasgow.
This would take an estimated 4 to 5 days to complete, but I was planning to take it easy, and take about two days extra to complete the journey, since I didn’t know how fit my cousin is. Going down to the reception office, I arranged for most of our luggage to be stored, and to purchase tickets for the train trip tomorrow afternoon.
When I told Aaron about what I was arranging, he said he wasn’t too keen to do a long hike, but wouldn’t mind having a good look around Scotland, so we looked at different things we could do to keep us busy for the next week.
The overnight train trip was relaxing and when we arrived in Edinburgh, we started our seven days of Scottish Adventure, checking a lot of amazing castles and other sites, and we even rented a car for two days to drive through the Scottish highlands.
When it came time to return to London, I received a text message from Uncle Nat. “Aaron’s new passport can be collected from the Australian High Commission, when you arrive back in London.
Enjoy your trip to your second home, Uncle Nat.” “Good news Cousin, your new passport is ready to collect when we get back to London,” I said to Aaron.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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