Although the book does not set out to overtly discuss race-related issues, the narrative nevertheless is underpinned by what it means to be a young coloured child in care, in 1980s UK. The author herself is of mixed-race descent (Irish mother and Caribbean father), and she has created a mixed-race, 9 year old protagonist, Leon, whose mother is white and whose father is black. Leon’s mother, Carole, is unable to manage post-natal depression and the break up of her relationship, and Leon becomes his baby brother’s primary carer, and also looks after his mother as far as he can. When things hit crisis point, Leon goes to a neighbour for help, which triggers their family to come to the attention of social workers. Leon and his baby brother, Jake, are taken together into foster care, which initially works well, but then Jake is quickly adopted and the brothers separated. It takes Leon awhile, but eventually he does understand the harsh truth without ever directly being told:
He is nearly ten and he is black, and Jake is one and he is white. That’s why Jake is adopted.
p158
This novel is beautifully set into its place and period, 1980s Britain, caught up in the preparation of the Royal Wedding, of Charles and Diana. It is a Britain of bacon sarnies and ham sandwiches, and a huge amount of sugar even for children, chocolate bars, chocolate digestives, and pop, and Curly Wurleys. Leon is fiercely attached to his baby brother, Jake, and traumatised when the social services split them up so that the baby can be adopted, knowing it will be hard to get Leon adopted too. However, he is lucky in finding an extremely loving foster carer in Maureen, a down to earth woman who has looked after 22 children, clearly capable with her combination of understanding and common sense and genuine warmth and care.
When Maureen has to be hospitalised, her sister temporarily takes over Leon’s care, and he has more opportunity to explore on his own. He runs into new people in a gardening allotment and is exposed to more of the wider society and its issues. He is a surprisingly naïve 10 year old – but perhaps that was a faithful representation of the average 10-year old at that time; children of that age without the media and social media accessible always. Leon doesn’t fully grasp what adoption means, nor does he accept his mother is unable to look after him. Although he is fond of his foster carers whom he knows take very good care of him, he only wants to retrieve his baby brother and go back to living with him mum – and feels it is his fault they were separated, because, he reasons, if he looked after his mum properly, none of this would have happened. It does not seem to register for Leon that adult should be looking after the children. However, Leon is keenly attuned to the fact he and his brother are different colours even though he does not overtly think about it for most part:
When he’s got Jake, if anyone stops him and says, ‘Where are you taking that baby?’ Leon will show them, the photograph to prove that it’s his brother. When your brother is white it can be difficult to believe that you’re related
p220
The novel is a very gentle one, for all that it takes in a race riot. The wider horrors are cushioned for Leon by his carers and even social workers, who for the most part, are doing their job quite kindly. Seen through the eyes of a 9 and then 10 year old boy, much is filtered out, but much too is not. Leon is no saint – he steals, he lies, he loses his temper – but the narrative is so understanding that the reader is shown how these are just the natural reactions of a very hurt, disempowered young black boy, who wants to be a good boy, but acts out occasionally, in processing his feelings and his lack of control. And the authorities in his life also seem to appreciate that. The novel also embeds many other societal comments by letting Leon overhear various conversation, or ‘ear wig’, as it is called in their slang, eavesdropping. For example, two men who work in the allotment and have been kind to Leon, are not fond of each other – one is an elderly Irish man, Mr Devlin, and one is a younger black man who works in a bicycle shop, Tufty. When Leon runs away, they have to sink their political disagreements temporarily to chase after Leon. Mr Devlin, calls out, “boy”, because he doesn’t know Leon’s name.
“’Don’t say “boy”’ says Tufty. You don’t call black people “boy”. Never.’
‘What is he then? He is a boy. I’m just calling out what he is. You call people “man”, don’t you? I’ve heard you.’
”Boy” means something else.’
‘Mother of God, every child in my class was “boy” when I wanted his attention. It means nothing.’
‘Yeah? That depends on who you’re talking to.’
“Brazilians. Boys from the slums of Sao Paulo. Brazilian boys in my class in my school that I ran with my Brazilian wife, you bloody fool. Black boys, brown boys, white boys. Just boys.’”
p232
It certainly raises the fascinating issue of who is allowed to say what, and how terms are loaded for some and totally not understood by others, a social struggle that goes on even till today, for example in the use or forbidding of the n-word, for various groups. But this is a 1980s novel, and being of its time, such debates were not yet wide spread; Leon has not yet been exposed to many discriminations, he is to no small extent cushioned by good hearted adults around him, and his world remains a very small one, focused entirely on trying to bring his little family back together. It is a deliberately low-key novel, but with very lovely nuances and gestures at much broader issues.
ooh, the table is a great inclusion!