Noah looked at his dad and Eric and gave them his best sneering look. “Why? Why d’you do it? Do you even realize how upset Gran is about this?”
“Noah, mate,” his dad cooed. “Here’s the situation. That tiara would have been left to me in her will anyway. All I’m doing is releasing the funds a little earlier than expected.”
“Why didn’t you just ask her?”
“She used to bail us out all the time; she’s a good woman, my mum. But since the dementia, it’s like she doesn’t get it any more. It’s like … she’s holding on to everything she owns, because she’s scared of losing it, you get me? I asked her for cash. She said no.”
“So you took it anyway!”
His dad stepped towards him again. “If I don’t sort out our cash-flow problem, we are going down, big time. I just want us to have a comfortable life, Noah. Like, I want us to have a nice family car – a Mazda MX-5 or something – right? For our family.”
“Family?” Noah snorted. “An MX-5 seats two! So does Mum know about all this, then?”
Eric looked down as his dad cleared his throat. “I don’t like to worry Lisa with the finer details of our finances. Understand?”
Noah nodded. “Oh, I understand, Dad.”
“So I need you to be a man about this, Noah, OK? Don’t say nothing to her. Don’t worry her. She’s done so much worrying over the years – she deserves a bit of happiness, don’t you think? Deserves to sit back in an MX-5 and let me sort things out for us. She’s always been there for you, Noah. Now you need to be there for her. That’s the reason I didn’t loop you in on all this before – didn’t want you to have to keep secrets from her. Guess you found out anyway, but it’d be good if you could keep it zipped. Yeah?”
Noah shook his head and snuck a glance towards Harry. He was still standing in the same spot. Why hadn’t he moved forward? If Harry were closer, it would at least be two against two.
“Here.” His dad smiled, pulling a little velvet bag from his pocket and handing it to Noah. “Take a look. They’re yours too, after all. These little beauties are going to sort out a whole load of problems for us. And you want that, don’t you? I mean, you want what’s best for our family, right?”
Noah peered into the bag while he tried to work out what his options were for a next move. Some people would run, but Noah couldn’t run. Some people would use kung fu, but Noah didn’t know any kung fu.
He became aware of a general hubbub, and glancing briefly behind him he saw the group of Spanish kids being coaxed around the exhibits, none of them really giving a shit…
Some people would use the magician’s trick of distraction and misdirection.
But that would only happen if Harry got closer! Why the hell was he hanging back like this?
And in a flash, Noah realized.
He was standing his ground, facing off with his father in a confident way. Harry must assume he was dealing with things OK by himself. He had to show Harry he needed him.
Harry’s words came back to Noah: So that’s how I know it’s time to come to your rescue.
Of course! Noah started shifting his weight between his feet. Like he needed a goddam wee but, to be clear, he definitely did not need a wee because he was practically an adult now.
“So small, but so valuable,” Dad said, as Noah continued to look into the small bag.
“Yeah, they’re nice,” Noah said, gently shuffling about.
“Damn right they are,” Eric muttered. “You starting to see sense finally?”
Noah looked up at Eric. “I’m seeing things very clearly, Eric.”
At that moment, a group of the kids pushed by in between them, keen to see the big snake, whilst another group hovered behind Noah, laughing and taking photos. Noah casually dropped the hand holding the velvet bag to his side and slightly behind his back, hoping to hell that Harry had seen Noah’s signal and done the right thing.
“De esta manera!” the tour guide shouted. “This way!”
About twenty Spanish teenagers swarmed amongst them.
He sensed someone close behind him, a waft of something floral, and felt a tug as someone pulled the bag from his hand. Noah prayed it had been Harry, and not some young Spanish pickpocket whose hair coincidentally also smelled of roses.
“Hurry up!” the tour guide barked.
The teens moved off and his dad held his hand out.
“What?” Noah said.
“Give ’em, then,” his dad said.
Noah gave his dad a sweet smile. “Give you what, Father?”
“Don’t muck about, give me the diamonds.”
“Just give ’em!” Eric said.
Noah sucked his cheeks in, chewed his lip a bit and rubbed his nose, hoping his assortment of facial tics and expressions would give Harry maximum time to get the hell out of there. “Oh, the diamonds? Gran’s diamonds that you stole? Those ones?”
Dad stared at him.
“Oh, they’re gone, quite gone,” Noah said.
Dad sighed. “Eric – search your brother.”
“Spread ’em!’ Eric demanded, swaggering up to Noah. “I shall do no such thing!” Noah said.
“Up to you,” Eric said, jamming his hands in Noah’s pockets. “You can make this easy for yourself, or you can make it hard… What the hell?” Eric pulled Noah’s portable nail clippers, compass and spirit level out of his coat pocket. “Shit, man, what is this Christmas cracker crap you’ve got?”
“Where are the diamonds, Noah?” his dad said.
“La, la, la!” Noah grinned.
Eric frisked Noah’s legs. “He’s clean – what you done, hid them under your balls?”
“Oh, please!”
“Up your ass?”
“That’s pretty unhygienic, Eric,” Noah said. “Think you know me better than that.”
His dad stepped towards Noah, looking about ready to manhandle Noah to the ground, when Bambi tottered up to them, breathless and sweaty. “Hands in the air, motherfuckers!” she screeched, making a “gun” by holding her clasped hands out in front of her, her index fingers forming a point.
“Jesus Christ,” his dad muttered.
“Kidding!” Bambi laughed. “But the diamonds are gone. Sorry, Brian, Noah enlisted my help and it did sound like you were up to no good, but hey, you’re here in London – fancy a show tonight?”
“I don’t know what the hell this is, or how the hell you found us, but those diamonds are mine and you’re gonna give ’em back!”
Noah snorted. “The diamonds aren’t here any more – what you gonna do?”
“You need to leave now,” Bambi said. “Looks like you lost this one, Brian.”
“Piss off, Mick,” his dad hissed.
Bambi squared up to him. “Screw you, Brian. You prefer Mick, do you? You want Mick? Mick who grew up on the mean streets of Stoke? Mick who used to cage fight? Oh yeah, Mick can make an appearance all right. Is that what you want, Brian?”
Noah’s dad stared at Bambi and then at Noah, breathing hard through his nose, the vein in his neck throbbing. “Eric?! C’mon!”
And then Eric and dad slammed the bar of the fire exit down, pushed their way out into the bright sunlight and were gone.
Noah turned to Bambi. “It was Harry who got them, right?”
“Yeah, babe. It’s all good.”
Noah released a heavy sigh. “Cool. Thank God. Thanks, by the way.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, Angel Cake.”
“Did you really used to be a cage fighter?”
Bambi snorted and shook her head. “Did I fuck, hun. Did I fuck. And don’t tell anyone, but I actually grew up on the mean streets of Chelsea.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
It was quite incredible, really. Noah stretched his legs out in front of him as he sat on the wooden bench overlooking the boating lake in Regent’s Park. Bambi Sugapops was sitting next to him, in her full gear, and no one so much as batted an eyelid. Just a teenage boy and a drag queen, enjoying l
ooking at the geese and swans, on this surprisingly mild January afternoon.
This really was a wonderful city. And to find such a tranquil haven, in the middle of all the madness, was rather blissful. London had it all. Even the sun was shining, glinting off the boating lake, as a young couple splashed by in a pedalo. Maybe, when Harry and Pierre returned from fetching lunch, Noah would take Haz out on a pedalo. It had a romantic feel to it, and now that the diamonds were safely retrieved, ensuring Gran would get better treatment, and now there was no sign of the sinister government agents tracking him, romance was very much on Noah’s mind.
But what if Noah suffered a repeat of the tent incident? What if things were all lovely and romantic, and the moment for love had arrived, and Noah couldn’t manage it?
On the other hand, Noah had been very distracted last night, and perhaps had a sip or two too much of Pierre’s wine. Not only that, the others had all been listening in, able to hear every single word he and Harry exchanged – hardly a recipe for successful intimate relations. Surely it was just a blip? Surely it would be fine?
All those distractions had pretty much vanished now.
And in the privacy of a hotel room…
Noah turned to Bambi, who was finishing retouching her nails. “Um, this hotel situation…” he began.
“Oh, hun,” Bambi smiled. “I got such a fabuloso deal on the website. We’re upgraded to executive rooms and breakfast is thrown in free.”
“Oh, that’s … fabuloso indeed!” Noah agreed.
“On-site spa too, if you fancy a steam or massage.”
“Huh. Maybe,” Noah said. “But in terms of the sleeping accommodation, how will that work?”
“I’ve put all you kids in one room – there’s two twin beds, a fold-out sofa thing and a put-me-up – you can fight it out amongst yourselves.” Bambi handed Noah the little bottle of nail varnish. “Do that back up for me, babe.”
Noah tried not to show his disappointment – it was kind enough of Bambi to pay out for the hotel anyway – but it did feel like this would be a huge missed opportunity. He needed to find a way for Pierre and Eva not to be sharing a room with them. Because if something was to happen, it would be amazing if it happened in an executive room. No desperate fumbles on top of all the coats in someone’s mum’s bedroom for them! Instead, tea and coffee-making facilities, complimentary hand soaps, a sign you could hang on the door saying “Do not disturb”, and probably a free packet of shortbread. An opulent setting that most teens planning on losing their virginity could surely only dream of!
Noah looked up and saw Harry and Pierre approaching along the path, bags of lunch in hand. “Is that lunch?” Noah said. “How lovely! Do sit down and let us eat this fine London food! Mmm!”
Harry chuckled. “Someone’s in a good mood!”
“Yep!” Noah beamed. “And that someone is me, Haz! At last, something has gone right!”
Harry grinned and perched down next to Noah, pulling some packs of sandwiches out of his bag and handing them to Bambi and Noah.
“Finally, decent coffee,” Pierre said, sipping an espresso as he sat on the end of the bench.
“Do you want your baguette?” Harry asked, holding it out for Pierre to take.
“Merci.” Pierre took a bite of it and grimaced. “Your English bread is so … interesting.” He tore a piece of bread off and threw it in front of him for a passing goose, then necked the rest of his espresso. “So, Noah, let us see these precious diamonds that we have come so far to receive!”
“Well, OK,” Noah said, pulling the little velvet bag out of his pocket with his free hand. “Be careful, though, Pierre.”
Noah watched like a hawk as Pierre opened the little bag and peered inside. “Small,” he said.
“But valuable,” Noah told him, keeping his eyes fixed on Pierre as he took another bite of his ham-and-cheese sandwich. The goose looked up at him and honked, clearly interested in whether Noah might offer some of his sandwich too. “Shoo, shoo, goosey,” Noah said, and then looked back at Pierre. “Don’t take them out of the bag!”
“I don’t,” Pierre said. “I only look.”
“Crisps,” Harry said, passing a bag of ready salted to Noah. “Crisps, Pierre?”
“Sure.”
The goose honked again. It appeared to want some crisps too.
Pierre put his baguette down on the bench so he could take the crisps.
And the next thing Noah knew, the goose, frenzied and fierce, charged towards them, apparently desperate for a bread fix. HOOOOOONK!
Pierre gasped and jumped as the violent goose flapped into him, baring its serrated teeth and smacking its wings into Pierre’s face like a cricket bat.
Wings!
Flapping!
SLAP!
HONK!
“ARRGH!”
THWACK!
HOOONK!
Pierre flailed, his right arm bashing against Harry’s left.
And somehow, he lost his grip on the bag of diamonds…
Which went flying into the air…
Noah watched in slow motion as the bag spun, turned upside down, and ten twinkling diamonds fell out….
They bounced on the ground…
Noah reached out…
But before he could get to them…
The goose had pecked up the lot.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
For several silent seconds, everyone just froze, staring at the goose, wondering what the hell was meant to happen now.
“Shit,” said Bambi.
“Shit,” said Harry.
Pierre nursed his bruised cheek. “Shit.”
Noah stared, unblinking, at the goose, that was now finishing off Pierre’s baguette on the ground.
“Noah, it’s fine,” Harry said. “Don’t lose your shit. We’ll do something.”
Noah kept focused on the goose. “Uh-huh. Like what? What are we going to do?”
“Well…” Harry floundered. “We’ll … think of something.”
“OK, OK, there’s no plan, so I’m totally going to lose my shit,” Noah babbled.
“Noah, no! Do not lose your shit!” Harry insisted.
“GAAHH!” Noah squealed.
The goose honked and padded a few steps away, apparently upset by Noah’s outburst.
“Shush!” Bambi said. “Just stay calm. Stay chilled. We need to keep it here.” Bambi grabbed the rest of her sandwich from the bench, tore a bit off and threw it to the goose, who stepped back towards them and pecked up the food. “There you go, gal! Tasty, huh?”
“OK, so once we’ve used up all the food, what then? You think the goose will just stick around because it likes us?”
“We kill the goose?” Pierre suggested.
Noah gritted his teeth. “Pierre,” he hissed. “You cannot simply kill a goose in a royal park!”
“It’s illegal anyway,” Bambi said, throwing another chunk of bread at the goose. “There’s that ancient law, isn’t there? They’re all legally the property of the Queen. Killing one is actually treason.”
“That’s swans,” Noah muttered.
“So geese are fair game?” Bambi said.
“We’re not going to kill the goose,” Noah said.
“I’m out of sandwich,” Bambi said, throwing the last piece down.
“Harry? What you got?” Noah said.
“Red velvet cupcake.”
“Sacrifice it.”
Harry nodded and got the cupcake out of its bag, throwing some icing down for the goose.
Bambi cleared her throat. “Can I just say, we need to be out flyering in Soho in about two hours, so…”
“Can I just say,” Noah snapped, “there’s currently twenty thousand pounds’ worth of diamonds in that goose!”
The goose honked and padded away again.
“Stop shouting!” Bambi hissed. “Every time you raise your voice, you scare it!”
“Throw more cake!” Noah demanded.
&nbs
p; Harry threw it down, but the goose looked away and started waddling off down the path.
“Damn it!” Noah said.
Noah stood and crept up behind it. “Come on!” he hissed, beckoning to the others.
The goose continued winding its way along the path, with Noah bringing up the rear, Harry out in front, and Pierre and Bambi flanking it at either side, all trying to act TOTALLY NATURAL and not like they were trying to GET THE GOOSE or anything like that, just in case any of the lunchtime crowds now entering the park were wondering.
“This is your fault, Pierre!” Noah muttered.
“I did not ask for it to attack my face!” Pierre snapped back.
“Shut up!” Bambi hissed. “If we can just get it to stay still…”
“Yes? What?” Noah demanded.
Bambi glanced back at him. “One of us can grab it.”
“I go nowhere near it,” Pierre said, still rubbing his cheek. “I hate that fucking goose.”
The goose took a few hops on to the grass bank by the side of the lake and sped up its pace, the others breaking into a fast walk to keep up.
“I need to take these heels off!” Bambi said, hopping along as she removed each shoe, watched by a couple of OAPs who were sitting on a nearby bench, looking mildly concerned at proceedings. Bambi slowed down and skipped over to them with a flyer. “Fancy a show tonight?”
Noah glanced back. “Bambi!”
“Coming, hun!” she said, cantering back up to the group.
“OK,” Noah puffed, “So, suppose one of us does grab it … what then?”
“We have foie gras,” Pierre said.
“Call the RSPCA, or the police,” Bambi suggested. “They probably deal with this sort of thing all the time—”
Noah snorted.
“…and even if they don’t, it’s a simple and honest story. We didn’t do anything wrong, the goose just ate your stuff!”
“The goose has diamonds in it – questions will be asked, it looks dodgy!” Noah said, sucking on his asthma pump as the pursuit continued. “And with Gran back home talking about them being stolen, it’ll all come crashing down on my dad, and as much as I –” he clenched his jaw, trying not to scream “– hate his goddam guts, I can’t see him sent to prison!”
“Then we kill the goose!” Pierre said.
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