Noah Can't Even

by Simon James Green

  “Is there anything you can tell us?” the second policeman said, breaking into Noah’s storm of thoughts.

  He glanced at his mum, who was tight-lipped and silent. “Er, no. There isn’t.”

  The policeman considered him for a few seconds. “OK. Thanks for your time.”

  Noah closed the door and leaned against it, weakly. His mum looked at him. “He was here, so why are you lying?”

  “It’s OK, Mum. It wasn’t anything bad. It’s fine. It’s not … relevant. I’m sure he’s … fine.”

  “He had better be.” She went into the lounge.

  It felt like some sort of net was closing in on Noah. And, just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse … they could.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Heard you got with my girlfriend,” the lad said, cornering Noah against the prickly hedge that ran along the pavement by the back entrance to the school. “Heard she’s havin’ yer kid.”

  “No.”

  “Calling her a liar?”

  “No…”

  “Calling me a liar?”

  “It’s Kirk, isn’t it?”

  “That’s me,” Kirk said, his voice indicating a beating so imminent it was DEFCON 1. Noah noted with increasing panic that Kirk not only had fully developed muscles that bulged out of his Nike T-shirt (a T-shirt! It was December!), he also had a smattering of facial hair – like, stubbly stuff, not the pathetic fuzz that occasionally grew on Noah’s top lip. Noah was dealing with a fully grown man. A grown man with several tattoos … one of which was in the shape of a heart with the word “Jess” underneath it. It was not a promising set of circumstances.

  “She said you’d split up,” Noah squeaked, edging backwards and wincing as the holly prickles penetrated his trousers. “That’s what she said.”

  “We have.”

  “Oh.” Noah was bricking it. He was definitely going to die.

  “But first of all, it’s not OK to move in and bag another lad’s girl so soon.”

  “No. No, I agree, it’s not good form.” He would agree to anything Kirk said; this was not the time to argue a point. “I mean, you can have her back… She’s all yours.”

  “Think I want your sloppy seconds?”

  “Well … technically, thirds now, ’cause…”

  “Shut your face.”

  “OK.”

  “You’ve made me a laughing stock.”

  “I am … so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “I said, shut yer face!”

  “Yes! Sorry. Yes. It’s shut.”

  “Thing is,” Kirk said, suddenly clasping his thick hand around Noah’s throat, “you two have apparently been seeing each other behind my back for months, and I don’t like sneaky shits who think they can get one over on me…”

  “Aaaarrrh … don’t … think … that…” Noah croaked, standing on tiptoes as Kirk lifted him off the ground.

  “I could kill you right now. D’ya know that?”

  “Uh-huh…”

  “Could snap your puny little neck…”

  “PUT HIM DOWN!” shouted a voice from behind him. “And piss off while you’re at it.”

  Noah clattered to the ground as Kirk spun round to confront Noah’s saviour, his James Bond, his Jason Bourne. Josh Lewis – his Superman.

  “Who are you, giving me orders?” Kirk swaggered up to him aggressively. “Fancy a trip to A&E, do ya?”

  “Now, come on, Kirk,” Josh smiled, not the least bit perturbed, “just because you’re covered in crap tattoos and wanker-branded sportswear doesn’t mean you have to be the douche you look like.”

  Holy shit, Josh was brave, but he was surely heading for an almighty beating.

  “Are you havin’ a laugh?”

  “No, I’m having a conversation with a guy who can’t handle the fact his girlfriend would rather shag geeky little Noah than him!”

  Noah wasn’t sure how he felt about being called “geeky” and “little” but it didn’t matter because it was all over incredibly quickly. Kirk had barely swung his arm back to launch the first punch before Josh had already got in there with his ace reflexes and landed a brilliant right hook on Kirk’s jaw. Noah had never seen a proper fight involving an actual punch before, and he was surprised at how quickly and easily Kirk dropped to the ground, clutching his mouth as blood poured out.

  “Want some more?!” Josh shouted, ready to kick him in the bollocks.

  “Stop!” Kirk squealed. “You can’t! I had blood cancer when I was ten!”

  Noah gasped and looked worriedly at Josh. Of course! The stories in the papers. Kirk’s brave fight. The fundraising coffee mornings and sponsored walks to pay for the pioneering treatment in Germany. Josh had just hit a cancer patient! That was bad. If the local paper found out, what would they say? Cancer survivor assaulted by two healthy boys! There would be a picture of Kirk, his face bloodied and swollen, with the caption “The cancer came back after the vicious attack.” Oh God. They were done for now!

  “Presumably you’ve made a full recovery?” Josh replied, patiently.

  Kirk shrugged. “What do you care?”

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you when you were ten, Kirk, but it doesn’t make you any less of a dick now.”

  Kirk didn’t argue. He scrambled to his feet and hobbled off down the pavement, muttering vague words of vengeance, leaving Noah wide-eyed in awe at Josh’s majestic bravery. Josh had done all this, for him! No one had ever done anything like that before, not Harry, not anyone. Josh was shaping up to be an excellent replacement friend. In fact, Noah had possibly upgraded to a better model.

  “Thank you,” he said, stopping short of swooning into Josh’s strong arms whilst whimpering “My hero!”

  “All in a day’s work.” Josh shrugged, casually yawning and stretching his arms so his shirt rode up his body, revealing rock-hard abs and the waistband of his boxers, which read “100% British Beef ”.

  Those abs. Noah couldn’t stop staring. Josh must work out a lot … in the gym … getting all hot…

  “Er, listen,” Noah said, snapping himself back to reality. “Jess came round with her dad last night. She’s actually pursuing this nonsense about me having impregnated her. And there’s no way I’m taking that. Imagine! A dad at fifteen! I can’t wait for a DNA test to prove her wrong. And if she is pregnant, it’s obvious who the father really is!”

  “Who?”

  “Kirk! She’s just split up with him, and he doesn’t want anything to do with her, and I reckon she found out she was having his baby. So she needs someone to take the blame. And that’s where I come in. I shall go full Poirot and get to the bottom of the whole damn thing! I’m going to find the truth! Going to prove it!”

  Josh nodded. “Wow! A man of action! I like it. So, bet her dad was pissed?”

  “Oh, yes, pissed. Totally pissed.” He was delighted he knew that Josh meant pissed off. They were both so cool! He would use it again. “He was really, really pissed.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, you know, to help, just let me know, yeah?”

  Noah wanted to throw his arms around Josh’s toned, tanned body and lose himself in the heavenly scent of his musky eau de toilette. He didn’t. That might be a bit gay. So instead he just said, “Thank you so very much, I’m forever in your debt, Josh,” and did a little curtsy.

  “Good man. Could you get me a bacon butty from the canteen while I go and have a quick fag?”

  “Oh. Um, sure.”

  “You’re my main man. I like you!”

  “I like you too!” Noah beamed. “Do you want ketchup?”

  “Brown sauce, bro. Brown sauce. And make sure they cook it crispy, in a white bap.”

  “Brown sauce, white bap, crispy!” Noah nodded eagerly. “I won’t be long!” and he scampered off in the direction of the canteen with a bounce in his step. He didn’t mind being Josh’s bitch on this occasion. Josh had just saved him from being mauled by Kirk. Getting him a bacon butty was the least Noah
could do.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Thursday evening. Forty-eight hours since Eric was last seen, but no one seemed particularly worried. The word on the street was that he’d either run away, sick to death of his chaotic home life, or he’d had to go into hiding because he’d blackmailed the wrong person with something he’d found on them. Noah still hated Eric’s guts for the position he’d put Noah in, but even so, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Eric. Literally no one seemed to care.

  He knocked on Gran’s bedroom door, as the sound of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” blared from within. He hoped she was in the mood – and had the clarity of mind – for a sensible chat, peppered with sound advice.

  “Piss off!” she shouted from the other side.

  “It’s Noah, Gran!”

  There was a moment’s pause before the music was turned off and the door opened. His gran’s face was a picture of disappointment.

  “You. I want words with you!” she said, pulling him into the room by his school tie and slamming the door shut again.

  “Gran, can I just say—”

  “What did I tell you?! Keep it in your pants, that’s what!”

  “Gran, I—”

  “And what have you done?! You’ve not only gone and got the damn thing out of your pants, you’ve gone and put it straight into the first available girl, and now look!”

  “I didn’t, though!” How the hell did she know about this?

  “Peanut, if I had a shiny pound coin for every boy who’s ever claimed they didn’t do anything when a girl gets pregnant, I would not be held prisoner in a council-run care home. I would be luxuriating somewhere private.”

  “Gran, I absolutely one-hundred-per-cent guarantee to you that I kept it in my pants!”

  “Then why is your hanky-panky with this girl all over social media?”

  Bloody hell. What had Jess done? “What’s it say, Gran?”

  “Pictures, Peanut! Tagged with you and her! Some scan of a baby. And phrases like ‘Me and Bae’ and ‘Someone’s gonna be a daddy!’ Explain yourself!”

  Noah sighed. Jess wasn’t going to give up easily. “Look, I took your advice and said nothing, including when this rumour that I might have … done things with Jess got started. But then they all assumed. And it seemed like an OK thing for them to assume because it made me popular, so I didn’t deny it. But I didn’t say it was true either! So now it looks like I really did do it, and to make it worse, I gave her a score for…”

  “A score for what?”

  Awkward. “For when … like, when a man and woman love each other very much and they get very close and then the man gets very excited and puts a seed inside the woman so they can grow a baby? Like a score for that.”

  “Jesus wept.”

  Noah flopped down on the single bed and sat on something uncomfortable. He reached under the thin duvet and pulled out Gran’s passport and a roll of euros. “What the hell’s this?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, whipping them off him, throwing them in one of her drawers and slamming it shut. “Er, what else is happening? How’s Harry? Any news on your father?”

  “Whatever you’re up to, it’s not going to work and it’s not a good idea.”

  “No idea what you mean.”

  Noah sighed. “OK, so Dad’s living in Spain and he’s been writing letters the whole time that Mum has been keeping from me.”

  Gran stared at him, dumbfounded. “So he really is in Spain?”

  “What do you mean ‘really’? That suggests you—”

  “I tell you when I get my hands on him!”

  “Who told you he was in Spain?”

  Gran stared at him. “What are we talking about again?”

  Noah bit the inside of his lip and weighed her up. “Also, I apparently have some sort of secret sibling. Who’s in my year at school. And I want answers, so … over to you, Gran.”

  She looked at him blankly. “Who’s got a secret sibling?”

  “Me!”

  “And who is it?”

  “Well, that’s the point! I don’t know!”

  “And he’s in Spain?”

  “No, Little Fobbing!”

  “Who is?”

  “My… Oh, forget it. It’s fine. I’ll find out.”

  “What would Jessica Fletcher do?” Gran said.

  Noah sighed and crossed his arms. He’d just told her that her missing son was alive and that he had a secret half-sibling – and she didn’t seem remotely surprised or, indeed, interested in discussing it further. Was that her condition? Was that the dementia? Or was it because she already knew?

  But if she already knew, then who had told her?

  One thing was certain: he couldn’t really press the point. In between the lucid moments, she spent a lot of time confused. It wasn’t fair to make matters worse, get stressed and frustrated, and make her feel bad.

  Besides, she’d already let one very important clue slip, without even realizing it.

  “How’s Harry? You sorted things out?”

  “Fine. He’s fine.” Noah nodded, looking directly at her because it was DEFINITELY ALL TRUE.

  “What’s happened?” she asked, grimly.

  “OK, well, he thinks I’m seriously awful as a human being, and it’s all over and we’re no longer friends.”

  She shook her head. “You bloody idiot.”

  Noah looked down at the floor. He missed Harry. What was Harry doing right now? he wondered. Was he laughing about Noah’s problems with his new best mate? No, he wouldn’t be. Harry just wasn’t that sort of boy. He didn’t take delight in other people’s misfortune. He wasn’t mean. And that made Noah all the more sad.

  “Do not let him get away,” Gran said. “He’s special. And you know it.”

  “Sometimes people drift apart, though.”

  “Not people like you and Harry. You can get over this. You have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because in one lifetime, you won’t find anyone else like him. This is wisdom, Noah, from a wizened old hag who has seen it all. You know I’m right. I always am.”

  He felt his heart get heavy again. Of course she was right. But it was too late now.

  He slouched against the pillows and stared out of the window, engulfed by the enormity of everything that needed sorting out.

  “This girl,” said Gran, “the one you got pregnant?”

  “Except I didn’t,” Noah said, turning back to face her.

  “But someone did.”

  “Yeah, her ex-boyfriend, Kirk.”

  “So, all you need is some proof that she and Kirk –” Gran winked at him “– you know.”

  The pieces in his mind started connecting.

  How could he have been so stupid?

  He’d been totally hung up about his stupid kiss with Harry being on the memory stick. But what else was on it?

  The other events of the party that night.

  Events that might save Noah’s arse.

  His heart was racing like it might explode out of his chest. He jumped up. “Gran, I have to go. There’s something I gotta do!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Breathless, Noah flopped down in front of the computer in his bedroom, fished the little memory stick out of its hiding place and rammed it in the USB port. The memory stick contained footage of everything that happened in that bedroom the night of the party. Who knew what shenanigans went on there, who else Eric had been blackmailing?

  Jess Jackson and her boyfriend, Kirk, were at the party. If they got up to anything in that room, Noah would be exonerated and this whole pregnancy thing would be shown for the sham it was.

  He didn’t want people talking about him, not like that. He didn’t want people to think he was like his father. His life was going to be different. And Jess Jackson was not going to derail everything.

  The stick finally showed up in the menu bar. A double click revealed its contents, and he double clicked again on the video file.
It began to play.

  Close-up on Eric. His grinning face as he set the camcorder up. Looked straight down the lens. “Project Adios is go…”

  Noah felt a cold tingle down his spine. What the hell was “Project Adios”? Eric was up to something. Something bad enough for Eric to need to disappear. Or bad enough to have someone else want to disappear him.

  The frame shook randomly as Eric clambered up on to a chair and positioned the video camera on top of the wardrobe, leaving a wide shot of an empty bedroom.

  Noah skipped through the footage until the first unwitting occupants entered the room. Three lads he recognized from Year Nine. One pulled a bottle of something from his bag that they clearly didn’t want to share with the people downstairs. They took turns chugging it whilst talking about whom they wanted to get with…

  Noah continued skipping through…

  Ella and James. They almost fell into the room. Drunk. Lustful. She pushed him back against the door and they started tonguing, greedy hands all over each other…

  Not what he needed…

  Four girls gossiping. Giggling. Running out…

  Harry.

  Stormed in. Punched the wardrobe so the camera shook. Connor came in and tried to talk to him. Harry ripped the head off a Barbie…

  Noah didn’t need to be reminded of what happened next, and in high definition. He skipped through until the room was empty again.

  A boy ran in. Frantic. Opened the window and was sick out of it. Wiped his mouth and went back out…

  Jess Jackson…

  Oh please … oh please… Noah resumed normal play.

  Jess Jackson … led a male figure into the room…

  Oh please… Please… YES! OH YES! Kirk. Her “boyfriend” Kirk…

  Kirk wedged a chair against the bedroom door. Like something out of a film. Who knew that really worked? And then…

  They were kissing … and then…

  And then something strange happened. Jess stopped him. Sat him down on the bed. “Kirk? I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “What’s up, babe?”

  And she took a deep breath…

  “I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a dad.”

  And she did this hopeful little smile, like she wasn’t exactly sure how he’d feel, but maybe he’d get over the shock and be OK with it.