Everyone in the courtyard of the fivestorey council block on the outskirts of Birmingham knows Gran Evelyn Parker. Shes short, wiry, with silver hair pulled into a tight bun, and she shuffles around the grounds with a wooden cane, but she does it so briskly that the youngsters cant keep up with her.
Gran Evelyn has lived in the building ever since it was first constructed, she remembers every tenant, and the residents respect hernot just because of her age but because of her razorsharp tongue and iron will. If a neighbour runs into trouble, Granwho everyone calls Gran for shortwill be the first to lend a hand; if someone breaks the peace, shes the first to give them a piece of her mind.
One morning a new family moves into the courtyard: a young couple with a teenage son. The boy, called Tommy, quickly finds a gang of other mischiefmakers, and soon the courtyard erupts into chaosshattered light bulbs in the stairwell, lurid graffiti on the walls, and even a broken basement window where the resident catlover, Mrs. Higgins, feeds her rescued kittens.
Tommy isnt just a typical hooligan; his imagination is warped. He strings fishing line between the trees to make cyclists tumble, he slips surprises from neighbour dogs into the sandbox, and his parents sigh, Just a phase. Gran Evelyn, however, sees things differently.
Oi, Tomboy! she calls out one crisp morning as he tries to bolt a firecracker to a bench. Come over here, love.
What do you want? the teenager grumbles, but he walks over.
Are you a clever lad? she asks.
Um Tommy frowns.
Because Im watchingyour games are daft. A clever lad wouldnt act like that.
Leave me alone!
I wont, she says. If its not me, then who will tell you the truth?
Tommy grimaces but removes the firecracker.
The next day Gran catches him in the act againspraying a vulgar word on the garage wall with a spraycan.
Oh, look at that, she says, smiling. An artist, are we?
Whats it to you? Tommy sneers. It looks grand!
Looks grand, Gran agrees, except the owner of the garage, Uncle Colin, will be back from work any minute. If he catches you
I dont care! he retorts.
Fine then, Gran sighs. Just know this: if Uncle Colin doesnt punish you, I will.
Tommy snorts, tosses the can aside, and scurries off.
That evening Uncle Colin, redfaced with anger, storms around the courtyard, brandishing his belt.
Who did this? he roars.
Tommy ducks behind a wall, but Gran is already standing beside him.
So, artist? she asks. Running away or owning up?
Hell kill me! he yelps.
Did you think a little vandalism came without consequences?
In the end Tommy has to clean the garage under Uncle Colins watchful eyeand Grans supervision.
See? she says once the jobs done. Now the garage is tidy and youve got your skin back. It could have been worse.
Get lost Tommy mutters, but the swagger in his voice has faded.
Time passes. Tommy still gets into trouble, but not with the same reckless abandon. One afternoon Gran watches him chase younger kids across the yard.
Again, love? she asks sharply.
Theyre the ones pushing me! he protests.
Youre older now. You ought to be wiser.
What am I supposed to do with them?
Dont chase themteach them something.
What?
Gran thinks for a moment. You could show them how to play football, or how to play Cops and Robbers.
Theyre tiny!
Give it a go.
Reluctantly Tommy grabs a football from his house. Half an hour later the courtyard erupts in laughter as he teaches the youngsters to take penalty kicks.
From then on Tommy changes. Hes not saintly, but hes no longer the little terror everyone used to avoid. When Gran breaks her arm, its Tommy who hauls her shopping bags from the corner shop.
Feeling better, Tomboy? she teases.
Just so you dont have to swearing at me, he mumbles.
Everyone in the block knows itGran Evelyn may be strict, but shes fair, and thats why people listen to her. Because if it isnt her, then who?
Summer rolls in. Tommy no longer chases the little kidsnow they follow him around, calling him big brother. He shows them how to hammer nails, fix bikes, and even sets up a secret society in the courtyard with a password and a motto: Real men dont bullythey protect the weak.
One day Gran, perched on a bench, watches Tommy break up a fight between two boys.
Bens a wimp! one shouts. Hit him!
No fists, Tommy says firmly, stepping between them. Well sort this out fairly.
Gran smiles.
So, Tomboy, she calls after the dust settles. Youre almost a hero now, arent you?
Come off it, Gran, he blushes. Theyre just silly kids.
Youre grown up now.
Tommy pauses.
Gran, why did you bother with me? I was a proper troublemaker.
Because I saw a decent person in you.
Did no one else see it?
It was easier for others to shout at me. I, she winks, I was the same sort of thing in my youth.
Tommys eyes widen.
No way!
Indeed. It was worse. The police even gave me a lecture once.
And then?
An old man once said, Girl, youre clever. Why waste it on nonsense? That stuck with me.
Tommy laughs.
So now I have to think too?
You already are thinking, Gran says, nodding.
He looks down.
Gran, what if I mess up again?
You wont be a messup. And if you do, you fix it.
From that day on Tommy becomes the goto guy in the courtyard. He helps the elderly, repairs the swings, and even convinces his mates not to litter. When Gran falls ill again, he visits daily, bringing medicines and the latest gossip.
Youve spoiled me, Tomboy, she grumbles, though her eyes sparkle.
Im just raising you, he retorts.
A new boy later shows up in the yardjust as mischievous as Tommy was a couple of years ago.
Hey, lad! Tommy calls. Come over here
Gran, still on her bench, watches with a quiet smile.
Because if not her, then who?
