Can I explain to you what happened?

It was nice of Sannie to bring me this sandwich. They told me that she got it to one of the cleaners and asked him to try to find me. I have really missed home cooking, even a sandwich. They brought me in here to the court from the Detention because I have to see the Commissioner. The police say that the court was collecting more information about me and my family. There’s only my mother, really. Nobody knows where my father went, but maybe the court can find him and maybe that’s why I’m here today. My mother tries hard, but my father would have fixed this whole thing about the shops.

It’s been three weeks since we were caught that night and I was put in the Detention. I’ve tried to explain about why I was there with the others. You don’t know what to do when someone says let’s go and get something “from the back door" of that store and you are just there with the other boys. you’re scared to say No because then they call you chickenshit but you’re scared to say Yes because you really don’t know that stuff ... so you go with them anyway. Maybe I can explain to the Commissioner. He will understand. I’m only 13 and everyone knows me, that I don’t do those things. I’m lucky to be here today. Some of the other boys say that you never get a chance to explain, but maybe I will get a chance to explain to the Commissioner.

Sannie looks after me when my mother can’t. She’s only fifteen but she’s good with us kids, especially little Jan who’s got something wrong with his nerves. She gets rice from my granny when we haven’t any, and she takes my mother to the Post Office when her pension money comes every month. My mother tries to take some of it but Sannie says she will just use it the wrong way again. Sannie cooks for us and makes us sandwiches like this one.

My grannie keeps asking the social worker to put us all with her, but they say she’s too old. I know that she would explain about us. They should ask her.

I think back to my grannie. She may be old but she’s strict in a kind sort of way. When she asks “What are you doing?!" or says “You, boy, get over here!" you jump – but we know that underneath her stern look she’s really on our side. At her sharpest there’s always a shine in her eye. Even when there’s not much to eat, she makes us all sit at the table, and when we get up we at least feel that we've had a meal. Maybe when they collected information about us they talked to her. She may even ask the Commissioner if we can all go to her. Or maybe he can put just me with her. She doesn’t let us out in the evening when we eat and sleep at her place. But I don’t see her here anywhere today.

Even by myself I will be able to tell the Commissioner all about it. With the information he has collected and the information I can tell him he will know what’s best to do. With little Jan sick, I’m not there at home to help clean, and there are enough boys at the Detention to clean the place without me. I haven’t seen all of them at home for three weeks.

They’re looking at me now. Talking to each other and writing something on a piece of paper. I must come in now. A lady holds my shoulder and leads me into this big room which looks like the office at school. There’s this man sitting at the desk. He looks like a preacher. Will I sit down? Even the police don’t ask you that, nor the people at the Detention. This must be the Commissioner. There’s nobody else in the office, just him and me and the lady.

She hands him a folder. He says nothing. I want to say “Good Morning Sir, I am Jamie Barrett. Did you get to meet my family and my granny? Did you find my father? Can I explain to you about what happened?”

He says nothing, I’m too scared to say anything. He reads the papers in the folder. He looks up at me over his spectacles, then at the lady, who looks at me ...

The Commissioner begins to speak. “It says here he also causes trouble at school. Further detention. Pending further investigation.”