Free Mosi's War by Cathy MacPhail

him first.
    ‘Are you feeling OK, Patrick?’ Mr Ratho asked when the lift reached his floor and Patrick stepped out. ‘You’re never usually this quiet. Usually cannae get you to shut up.’
    Patrick licked his lips. ‘Think I ate something,’ he said.
    The flat was empty. No Mum. No Granny. And for once he wanted one of them to be there. He put on all the lights and curled up on his bed, hugging his knees, listening to every sound.

Chapter 25
    Patrick was desperate to speak to Mosi the next day. He stood on the ground floor waiting for Mosi to come down in the lift. Waited so long he was late again for school. Yet, when he finally tore into the classroom, getting bawled at for being ‘tardy again’ –  Mrs Duncan the English teacher was always talking like that. Trying to teach them new words, when half the class couldn’t speak English at all. Mosi was there. Deliberately not looking at him. How had Patrick missed him? Even if he’d run down the stairs, Patrick would have seen him, going out through the main doors, running across the concourse.
    Maybe he had a parachute.
    Patrick sat three rows behind him and didn’t take his eyes from the back of Mosi’s head all through the lesson. Willing him to look round. But Mosi kept his gaze fixed firmly in front of him, as if he was engrossed by what the teacher was saying.
    Patrick grabbed Mosi as soon as the lesson ended and the class were flooding to the next lesson. ‘Mosi, we’ve got to talk.’
    ‘Talk? About what?’
    Patrick felt his face go red. ‘About what? About yesterday, of course! About who you saw. About what you said.’
    Mosi shrugged his arm free. ‘I saw nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    Patrick wasn’t going to let him deny it all. He spoke so loudly some of the others turned to look. ‘Who are you trying to kid? I followed you. I know what you saw. Who you saw.’
    Mosi backed away, shaking his head. ‘ Idaa! ’ he said. ‘Leave me alone.’ But Patrick could see the fear in his eyes. Then, Mosi turned and ran.
    Patrick stood watching him. Why was Mosi lying? Was he really that afraid? Yep, that was it. He was afraid, and Patrick couldn’t blame him. He was afraid too. And he didn’t even know what he was afraid of. But why lie?
    Mosi was hiding something, terrified of something. Terrified of Mr Okafor. It didn’t take a Sherlock Holmes to know that. But who was Mr Okafor? A monster, he had called him. Patrick couldn’t leave it at that. He had to know more. All Patrick wanted to do was help. Couldn’t Mosi see that?
    ‘What was all that about?’ It was Bliss, and beside her, clinging on to her arm, Ameira.
    ‘I hope you weren’t picking on Mosi.’ This was Ameira.
    That made Patrick laugh. ‘Me? I don’t pick on anybody. You should talk to your boyfriend. He’s the one who picks on Mosi.’
    A blush rose in Ameira’s face. ‘Me? I don’t have a boyfriend.’
    Patrick shrugged. ‘If Hakim was my boyfriend, I’d keep it a secret as well.’
    This time her face went bright red. ‘He is not . . .’ She couldn’t finish what she was saying. Couldn’t find the words she needed.
    Bliss rescued her. ‘So since when has Mosi been your best friend?’
    ‘I was trying to talk to him about something important, if you must know.’
    For a moment he wondered if he could confide in Bliss. She was really annoying at times, but she was a nice girl. She would want to help Mosi too. But Mosi was so scared and didn’t want anyone to know about it. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut for now.
    ‘It was boy talk, actually.’ He said it as if she had asked.
    Bliss turned to Ameria. ‘Boy talk! Must be something really boring, then.’ And confident that together they had at least protected Mosi, they both walked off.
     
    Mosi was glad he had had time to think about what to say to Patrick. He’d needed that time. Patrick had followed him, had seen his fear of Okafor. And for a while, just a short