CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
“It’s not true, she’s winding you up, it’s all lies,” Noah repeated to himself as he walked towards the Willows. He’d spent the rest of the day acting normal around Harry, determined not to give in to the paranoia. Of course Harry didn’t cuddle with Pierre – why would he? Harry was loyal and lovely and sweet. Definitely. And it wasn’t as if Noah could delicately enquire anyway. There was no way of doing that without it sounding like an accusation.
He signed his name in the visitors’ book and gave a cursory nod to Tabatha, who was sitting by the fish tank, one paw on the glass, watching the guppies with a wired look in her eyes. “It’s not true. She’s winding you up. It’s all lies.”
Gran and Dickie were standing behind two keyboards that had been set up in the lounge. Dickie had a streak of white make-up running across his nose and under his eyes; Gran two red stripes on her right cheek. She also had a colander on her head.
“Change of plans,” Gran explained, seeing Noah. “We’ve ditched the bitch, aka Vera, and gone solo.”
“Duo,” Dickie corrected.
“Three-o?” said Babs, shuffling in with a tambourine.
“Right.” Noah rolled his eyes. “And the colander?”
“Pet Shop Boys tribute,” Gran sniffed. “Now, what’s up with you? Need to talk?”
“Yeah,” Noah said.
“Let’s have a nice sit-down in my room,” Gran said, coming over to Noah and leaning on his arm. “Which way is that?”
“This way, Gran,” he said, leading her off.
“Sometimes I don’t know which is left or right, up or down!”
Noah swallowed. “I know, Gran.”
“Hold up, there’s only two members of the Pet Shop Boys,” Noah heard Babs say as they left. “So where does that leave me?!”
“I’m worried that I’ve got competition in the Harry department,” Noah said as Gran settled herself into her armchair.
“Tea?”
“No thanks, Gran.”
“Jack Daniels?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Gran adjusted the cushion and sat back. “What about some nice tea, then?”
“No, I’m fine for tea.”
“Or some Jack Daniels? Nice drop of JD?”
“Gran, I just wanted to talk to you about Harry.”
Gran nodded. “You know who’s a no-good man who’s only after all my money?”
Noah sighed. “Uh-huh. Dad.”
“Your father!” Gran said. “I’ve always had to watch him. Ever since he was a baby. He’d steal anything. Not six weeks old and he nicked some other baby’s dummy.” She leaned towards Noah. “He wants to get his hands on my property portfolio!”
“Right…” Noah said, humouring her. “Well, don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
“Or my diamonds!”
“Or your diamonds, Gran,” Noah said.
“Do you promise me that?”
“I promise, Gran. Of course I won’t let him.”
“You’re a good boy, Noah. You’ve always been my favourite. You and I, we’ve always understood each other, haven’t we?”
Noah nodded, pleased. At least she could remember who he was today. And he was a good boy. At least someone appreciated it. And being Gran’s favourite? He’d always thought he probably was, but now it was confirmed. Excellent. People like Eric might, technically, be grandchildren too, but Noah was the preferred choice. He was number one. Even more so once he’d secured her place at Kingfisher Meadows! “You can rely on me, Gran.”
“So! Where did those Cosmos get to? The staff here are awful! Slack as you like. They’re all stupid young girls who just go around talking about their men troubles. Don’t care about us!”
“The staff seem nice, Gran.”
“They put that on! To fool visitors!”
“Gran, I just wanted to talk to you about Harry, you see—”
Gran put a finger in the air. “You and Harry need an activity! Something you can do together!”
Noah raised his eyebrows. Actually, it wasn’t a bad suggestion, and it was clearly backed by relationship science – like Mum and Dad’s tandem bike rides idea, although he and Harry would do something less smug and vomit-inducing.
“Like your granddad and me,” Gran continued. “We were really into … oh, what was it now?”
“You’re probably going to end up saying ‘bonking’ or something,” Noah muttered.
“Oh, you dirty little tyke!” Gran said. “I was not going to say that! Really, now, Noah! Sixteen and sex on the brain!”
“Sorry, Gran.”
“Beekeeping, it was. That’s how your granddad died in the end – stung by the very bees he cared for. Very sad.”
Noah screwed his face up. “Um … Granddad died of a heart attack in his sleep, Gran.”
“No, no, you’re getting confused,” Gran sniffed. “Ask Mother.”
“My mum would probably say the same thing, though.”
“Not your mother, my mother!” Gran said. “You need to ask her!”
Noah swallowed and nodded. “OK, Gran. I will, but just to say, FYI, I haven’t actually got ‘sex on the brain’. I mean, I hardly ever think about it much. And I definitely think about other stuff, like exams and becoming a prefect, so it’s hardly ‘on the brain’. I’m not a sex maniac.”
Gran nodded. “So you say, but I know what you boys get like! One minute you’re all sweet and well mannered, and the next you’re humping and bumping…”
“Gran!”
“Grinding and writhing!”
“GRAN!”
“Getting down and dirty with all and sundry!”
“I’VE ONLY EVER DONE IT WITH MYSELF!”
Gran stared at him and Noah looked back at her, open-mouthed and mortified. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout,” he muttered, as his cheeks started flaming. Bloody brilliant.
Noah cleared his throat. “What I meant, just to clarify, by that last thing I said … was, that I’ve only ever … um… I have some hobbies that I do by myself, like building Airfix models, for example, but I don’t have hobbies that I do with other people. Just in case … because you might have thought that what I just said sounded like…”
“Like you masturbate,” Gran said.
“Uh.”
“Which is fine, Noah, and perfectly normal, so I don’t know why you’re getting all hot and bothered about that.”
“Well, ah…” Could this get any more awful?
“I would much rather you masturbate than engage in any irresponsible intercourse with another person.”
“Please can you stop saying that word?”
“What word, Noah?”
For once, Noah’s further embarrassment was saved by a commotion outside the door, as a flash of fur ran past the door, with Matron in hot pursuit. “NO! TABATHA! NOOOO!” Matron shouted.
Gran shook her head. “Not again. Noah? Go out and help, will you?”
He was only too pleased to. Noah walked out into the corridor to find Matron, red-faced and puffing, at the far end by the fire exit, cornering Tabatha.
“Bad Tabatha!” Matron shouted.
Noah edged closer and saw a dead, brightly coloured fish on the floor, which Tabatha was prodding with her paw. A murder! And one that Tabatha wasn’t even trying to conceal. She seemed almost proud.
Matron turned to look at Noah. “Doris keeps leaving the lid of the tank open, so Tabatha gets in,” she explained.
“Very sad and upsetting,” Noah said.
“I found a guppy in one of my orthopaedic sandals yesterday.”
“Disgusting,” Noah agreed.
“One thing’s for sure – the tank’s gonna have to go!” Matron said, whipping the dead fish off the floor and waddling back down the corridor.
Noah’s brain spun. Maybe this could be the joint activity that he and Harry needed! He hurried after Matron.
“Oh, Matron!” he called.
“What is it, Noah?” she said, not looking at him. “I’ve got the supper to cook.”
“Matron, if you’re getting rid of the tank, maybe I could have it?”
Matron turned and crossed her arms.
Noah cleared his throat. She was clearly dubious about his credentials. “See, I have been considering taking up tropical fishkeeping for some time. I have studied widely around the issue, consulting textbooks and expert websites, and feel that I have accumulated a vast body of knowledge that makes me well-placed to take this responsibility on. I am a kind, intelligent boy, and I would make sure the fish were well cared for, attending to their needs and—”
“Yeah, fine, take it,” Matron said. “Can’t be bothered to sell it online. I’ll have Bob pack it all up and drop it round to you in his van later.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Be a weight off my mind, truth be told.”
“Great!”
“They’re an absolute bugger to maintain, but if you’ve got the time, that sounds grand to me.” Matron nodded and waddled off.
Good. Now Noah had a thing to do with Harry. A nice joint activity, a shared responsibility that would tie them closer together. They could keep it in Harry’s bedroom, so it would always be a constant reminder of Noah, bubbling away in the corner, watching Harry… Which would work out well, because Noah didn’t have the remotest clue about keeping tropical fish or, indeed, the time to do it himself.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Harry was kneeling next to him, looking at the tank on Noah’s chest of drawers in his bedroom.
“What’s its name?” Harry asked.
“Haven’t given him one yet; I thought we could name him together,” Noah said.
“Okaaay,” Harry said. “It’s a he? And he’s a fish?”
Noah rolled his eyes. “He’s not simply a fish, Harry! He’s a Poecilia reticulata! The jewel of the rivers of South America!”
“Oh. Is that a… What’s that?”
“A guppy.”
“He’s very pretty,” Harry said.
“Yes,” Noah said. “He has style.”
Harry stood up. “So, er, what made you decide to take up fishkeeping?”
Noah stood up too. “Well, you say ‘me’ but I prefer to say ‘we’.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got him for us, Harry! I thought it would be nice for us to have a thing we could look after together.”
Harry stared at him. “Okaaaay.”
“It’ll be fun! What shall we call him?”
Harry sat down on Noah’s bed. “Did we discuss this?” “It’s a surprise.”
“Yes. It is.”
Noah swallowed. “Do you love it?”
Harry cleared his throat. “I suppose.”
“You suppose?!”
“I mean, if it makes you happy, then … it’s great,” Harry said.
“It’s not about me, Haz. It’s about us.”
Harry took a breath. “Um … OK!”
“OK.” Noah nodded. “It’ll be nice.”
Noah looked into the tank, watching the guppy swim about, as Harry got up and paced over to the window.
“I mean, and hear me out here, Noah,” Harry said, turning back into the room, “I’m just speaking my thoughts out loud, really, but have we… Do we really have time for this? This sort of thing? I mean, GCSEs are coming up. There’s stuff to think about. And now this.”
“Fish, not ‘this’,” Noah snapped.
“You wanted that sentence to be ‘And now fish’?”
Noah glared at him.
“Right. Fish. Fine,” Harry said. “But, you know, had you asked me first, all I’m saying is…”
“What are you saying?”
“I mean, it’s fine now, because it’s done, and that’s OK, but had you asked me, I probably might have suggested we wait for a bit. You know? We’re young, we’ve got time. It’s nice to enjoy ourselves without being burdened with responsibilities.”
“So now he’s a burden!” Noah said, throwing his hands in the air.
“Well, you must admit…”
Noah couldn’t believe it. Oh yes, Noah saw the sort of person Harry was becoming, all right! It was all fun and happiness at first, but now with a bit of commitment, it had all turned sour. Harry just wanted to sow his wild oats, probably with Pierre, just like Jess Jackson had told him. Harry didn’t want to be troubled with changing … tank water and … feeding in the early hours of the morning, when fish woke up crying.
“That’s fine, Harry. I will rear the fish alone.”
Harry blinked at him. “I can help.”
“Oh, that’s good of you.”
“It’s just, it seems weird to share a pet when we don’t even… It’s not like we live together or anything… So, I mean, it seems strange to jointly have responsibility for him.”
Even though it was true, and even though it was a completely reasonable thing for Harry to have said, especially when they’d only been a “thing” for a couple of months, those words still sent a cold tremble through Noah’s stomach. He busied himself folding some clothes. “Fine. So, what, you’ll visit at weekends, will you? Spend some time with him then? I mean, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your life, so you just say what works. We’ll fit in around you.”
“I can’t work out if you’re joking.”
Noah wiped his brow. “Look, I’m sorry, I thought this might be a fun thing for us to do together. But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. I haven’t got a lot of time, either, but that’s OK. I don’t mind making sacrifices for Timothy. That’s his name, by the way. Timothy.”
“Well, that’s a nice name.”
Noah shrugged.
“It’s almost five. Pierre wants to go to the roller disco in the sports hall. You coming?”
Noah froze at the mention of Pierre’s name.
“What?” said Harry.
Noah gestured to the fish tank. “I have to set up Timothy properly.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And I need to check over all the questions for the quiz night, so…”
Harry nodded. “Sure.”
“Have fun, though,” Noah said, tight-lipped. “Both of you.”
“I’ll buzz you later.”
Noah turned back to the tank and fiddled around with the wires at the back. “Let yourself out, yeah?”
Noah waited until he heard the front door click shut, then turned back into the room. Matters were more serious than he could have imagined. And now, this whole pet thing had made him look like an utter fool. Worse, he was now burdened with this ridiculous, stupid fish.
And all this, all of it, was because of Pierre.
Pierre had waltzed into town, with his suave attitude, good body, and oversized boy parts, and he had ensnared Harry.
This was war.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“I don’t see why the French lot got to go to Fun Kingdom in Cleethorpes while we had to stay in maths,” Harry complained as he and Noah left the room for lunch.
“Well, I suppose they’re not here to be in our lessons, and we do have GCSEs in a few months, so all things considered, Haz…”
“Sure.” Harry shrugged. “Just would have been nice, that’s all.”
Noah’s stomach knotted again at Harry’s keenness to be with Pierre, but he held it together, giving a nonchalant “Absolutely” as they walked down the corridor. “Still, they’re due back now, aren’t they? So we can spend lots of lovely time with them this afternoon. C’est formidable, I’m sure.”
Ahead, leaning coolly against the wall, Noah spotted Jack Hooper, beckoning him over with his index finger.
“Um, I think that Year Seven wants you,” Harry frowned.
“Hm?” Noah said, playing innocent. “Oh. Oh yes, it appears he does. I think it’s school council business; would you wait here? I won’t be but a moment.”<
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“I need the gear,” Jack said, as Noah arrived by his side.
“How much?”
“Fifteen tubs so far.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “How… That’s a lot!”
Jack looked mildly irritated. “Tip of the iceberg. You said you had the stock, so let’s have it.”
Noah swallowed. “Yes, I do have it. I have it, absolutely. But, you see, it seems I made a small mistake in the calculations. Six fifty just isn’t—”
“Deal’s a deal,” Jack said. “You made me a promise, and I’ve made other people promises. Now get your shit together and get me the gear, else—” Jack reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a Swiss army knife. “Victorinox Evolution S17,” he smiled, gently caressing it whilst maintaining eye contact with Noah. “Thirty-two functions – compass, ruler, wire crimper … and this!” He flicked one of the bits out. “Know what this is?”
Noah swallowed and shook his head.
“The hook disgorger!” Jack said. “You use it in fishing, to remove a hook from deep inside the mouth. But useful in other surprising ways, too.” He leaned in closer. “Get. Me. The. Gear!”
Noah’s eyes nearly bulged out. “Oh!” he gasped.
Jack reached up and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Good man. I know you’re reliable. That’s why you’re on the school council, right? Trustworthy. No bullshit.”
Noah nodded. “Mm,” he squeaked. What the hell was he going to do? No way would Josh Lewis sell him the tubs for anything less than ten. At that rate, Noah was going to make a loss of three fifty per tub!
“All right?” Harry said, arriving at Noah’s side.
“This is my boyfriend, Harry, he’s my boyfriend,” Noah babbled.
Jack pocketed the Swiss army knife and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. Hey, we should go on a double date sometime, you two and me and Hannah. Be nice.”
“Uh-huh,” Harry said, clearly dubious.
“Ha ha ha!” Noah laughed, stopping when he saw Jack’s expression of thunder. “No, but seriously, that would be ace.”
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