by Lisa Nicol
‘It’s going to be okay, Vincent,’ reassured Zelda, squeezing him tight. ‘I can feel it in my bones. I know you’re going to miss The Grand and, boy, is The Grand going to miss you. But good things always come from bad. You never know what the future has in store.’
Yes, I do! Vincent felt like screaming: YES, I DO!
As Vincent walked down the driveway with his beaten-up old shoe-cleaning kit in one hand and his wooden stool in the other, he didn’t even realise he’d left the road until he found himself in the Junkyard of Broken and Abandoned Dreams. Standing there, Vincent still couldn’t believe his time at The Grandest Hotel on Earth had really and truly come to an end. While he’d never understood what a Junkyard of Broken and Abandoned Dreams could possibly have to do with grand, he did now. He walked around and started picking up stones and bits of deadwood and yellow dandelions. Then he knelt down, cleared a patch of long grass and built a small shrine. He found the emerald polish he’d used to clean Florence’s boots and balanced it carefully on the top. Although he didn’t really know how, he closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could to let go of his dream to save Florence from the bad thing in her future.
Not because he didn’t want to save her, but because he knew he couldn’t.
And with that, Vincent rose to his feet and walked out the gates of The Grandest Hotel on Earth.
CHAPTER 18
HOME
Waking up and not going to The Grandest Hotel on Earth was possibly the worst feeling on earth. Vincent lay there, staring up at the curls of peeling paint that hung from the ceiling. Before working at The Grand, Vincent struggled to haul himself out of bed, but The Grand had changed everything. Each and every day he’d leapt out like a happy frog at the first pitter-patter of warm summer rain.
Suddenly he had somewhere to be!
Suddenly he had something he could do! Suddenly he was someone!
He was the shoeshine boy at The Grandest Hotel on Earth!
But now he was just ordinary Vincent again. He felt like every scoop on his towering ice-cream cone had toppled over and fallen into a giant pile of elephant poop.
Rose stuck her head round the door. ‘What’s that word when you get what you deserve? Hang on, I remember. Karma! That’s it. If you’d taken me with you, this would never have happened!’
‘Go away, Rose.’ Vincent rolled over and faced the wall. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. There’s no such thing as karma. And I know that for a fact. Bad things happen to good people all the time. That’s just the way it is.’
‘Well, if it’s not karma, maybe they realised how ordinary you are, Vincent. I don’t know why they didn’t pick me in the first place. I can do grand. I’m an actress after all!’
‘I don’t know, Rose,’ replied Vincent, coolly, ‘maybe it’s because you’re seven? Or maybe it’s because you know NOTHING about shoes?’ Vincent rolled over to face her. ‘OR MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE YOU WALK AROUND EVERYWHERE WEARING A DISGUSTING OLD BLANKET!’
Rose’s chin twitched and wobbled as she tried not to cry.
Vincent instantly regretted losing his temper. But he couldn’t help it.
His mum walked into the bedroom. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing,’ mumbled Vincent. He put a pillow over his face.
‘Rose, leave your brother alone. For someone who’s supposed to be an actress, you’re not being very sensitive right now.’
‘But that was my shot at the big time and HE BLEW IT!’
‘That’s enough, Rose! I said not now.’
‘It wasn’t YOUR shot at anything,’ snapped Vincent.
‘Will you two stop it! You know how yelling upsets your brother.’
‘Oh yeah. That’s right, I forgot,’ snarled Rose. ‘Thom’s the only one who’s allowed to scream in this house.’
‘Rose!’
‘MARILYN! Rose is that poor girl who has that weirdo for a brother. I’m Marilyn. I’m a movie star and I don’t HAVE any brothers!’ Rose twirled her cape and stomped off in her plastic fluffy high-heeled slippers.
Vincent understood how Rose felt. At home, everything was always about Thom. He’d forgotten just how crappy and invisible that could make you feel.
Vincent stayed in his bedroom for days.
He didn’t speak unless spoken to.
He barely ate a thing.
And the same thoughts went round and round his head like a pop song. I’ve mucked up. I’ve left Florence alone. I should have found a way to save her. Rose is right. I blew it. I blew everything.
Each day, Vincent felt a little worse than the day before. It got so bad, even Rose tried to cheer him up. She came into his room, her tap shoes on and danced around his bed.
‘This is a special dance, Vincent,’ she announced, flapping her cape up and down like a bird. ‘An ancient dance to mend your soul.’
Tap. Tap. Tap. STAMP! Tap. Tap. Tap. STAMP! Tap. Tap. Tap. STAMP!
Vincent couldn’t tell the difference between this dance and all her other dances. But he appreciated the effort.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘That actually made me feel a bit better.’
‘That’s good!’ declared Rose, clearly delighted. ‘Now’s probably a good time to tell you I lost that scooter Dad found for you at council pick-up.’
‘WHAT?’
‘Don’t blame me, I’m innocent!’ screamed Rose, running from the room. ‘I just left it in the park. Some thief stole it.’
‘I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, ROSE!’ yelled Vincent.
Vincent flew out of bed and chased Rose into the kitchen. His mum was at the stove, boiling eggs. Thom was lying on the floor like a sleeping snow angel as Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie No.1 flowed around the room. Rose jumped over Thom and ran around the kitchen table, clearly enjoying the pursuit. Vincent ran after her.
‘Vincent! Rose! Stop it, you two.’
‘She lost my scooter!’
‘Yeah, well, Thom tore up your postcards from The Grand!’
Vincent stopped chasing Rose. He looked at his mother. ‘He didn’t, did he?’
‘Not all of them, Vincent. I saved a few. And we can sticky tape the others. I’ve got all the pieces,’ she said, trying to console him. ‘Don’t be angry with him, Vincent. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t understand.’
But Vincent was angry. Wildly angry.
He walked over to Thom, who hadn’t even realised he’d been used like a jump at a pony club gymkhana. Vincent snorted with fury. Then he kicked Thom in the leg. Thom wailed. Vincent looked as shocked as Thom did.
‘VINCENT!’ screamed his mother. ‘How could you? You’re his big brother. When will you start acting like one?’
‘What’s the point?’ spat Vincent. ‘He doesn’t even know I’m his big brother!’
Vincent walked out the front door and slammed it shut. He ran down Standard Street. And he kept on running till he found himself at Barry Train Station.
Right back where it all began.
Vincent sat down on a bench. It was rush hour and busy people were hurrying home to flop down on couches and kick off their shoes. Vincent saw his old spot next to the snack machine. It was empty. He remembered his first day shining shoes and how happy he had been. How all he’d wanted was enough money to buy a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips and a sports drink that would hopefully turn his pee bluer than the Barry Public Pool. He remembered the big fat man, his first satisfied customer. And that wonderful tingly feeling. Vincent had almost forgotten how much he loved shoes. So much had happened. He felt like he’d been around the world and back again then around the world again. His grandfather was right. The shoe-cleaning kit was magic. But right now Vincent didn’t feel so lucky. How had the best thing that ever happened to him turned into the worst?
As the last stragglers squeezed through the barriers, Vincent got up and headed home. The first thing he did was hug his mum and apologise for kicking Thom because it was the right thing to do. Vincent loved Thom, but sometimes he hated hi
m too. Then he went to his room and pulled out his shoe-cleaning kit from under his bed. He checked all his brushes and polishes then packed them neatly back in the box. Vincent decided tomorrow he would return to the train station and set up his business again. At the very least it would take his mind off things.
As the weeks went by, Vincent became well known at Barry Train Station. Word spread across town that he could match any shoe colour exactly. Ladies queued to buy his special inserts for their favourite high heels. And the workers from FishyKittys came in droves to purchase his special spray that stopped their boots smelling like rotten fish. Some of their spouses came to buy it too. They said they secretly sprayed their husbands and wives when they came home from the factory and it worked a treat! The Barry Daily newspaper even sent a reporter to write a story about him. It was a full-page spread with a photo of Vincent sitting on his stool next to the snack machine, spraying a factory worker’s boots. The headline said if there was a decline in Barry’s divorce rate, it was probably because of Vincent’s Fruity Boot Deodoriser.
Then one day, when Vincent was busy repairing a pair of cowboy boots, a lady appeared.
‘Vincent! Is that you? What a wonderful surprise!’
Vincent recognised her face but couldn’t for the life of him remember who she was. These days everyone in Barry seemed to know Vincent – especially since he’d had his picture in the paper.
‘It’s me, April’s mum, from The Grandest Hotel on Earth.’
‘Oh of course!’ Vincent stood up. ‘Now I remember. How’s April?’
‘She’s doing great. I’m so glad I bumped into you. I’ve been wanting to say thank you for those inserts. She hadn’t walked without holding my hand for six months and now she’s at school playing chasings. She has her confidence back.’
‘That’s the best news!’ said Vincent.
‘April’s young, but she’s already fought a lot of battles. And she has bigger ones ahead unfortunately.’
Vincent nodded. He felt terrible for little April. She was such a sweet girl. ‘Please tell her I said hi.’
‘I will! She’d kill me for saying, but I think she had a bit of a crush on you, Vincent. She still talks about you. I think she liked to imagine you as a sort of big brother. She would have loved one of those. Anyway, we have much to be thankful for. I better run or I’ll miss my train. Thank you again, Vincent. Bye.’ April’s mother disappeared through the barriers into the crowd.
Vincent sat down on his grandfather’s stool. He thought about how everyone has a story, even though you can’t always see it. But if you listen closely, you can feel it. Then a feeling came over him. Like that moment on a freezing day when a big cloud blocking the sun moves and the light and warmth hits your skin. It felt like the whole sky opened up.
It’s not the knowing that’s important!
It’s the being!
Thom doesn’t need to know I’m his big brother.
I am his big brother whether he knows it or not.
Vincent pulled out his notepad and pen and began scribbling down ideas. And from then on, in between customers, Vincent started making a pair of boots for Thom – just like Florence’s. He figured if Thom had music at his toe tips, that might make him happier and calmer. He decided on yellow for the leather – just like The Grand – and instead of Bach, Vincent decided to program Thom’s boots to play Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie 1. His favourite.
After weeks of cutting and stitching and clamping and gluing, Thom’s boots were finally ready. Vincent couldn’t wait to give them to him. He packed up early and hurried home from the train station. When he arrived, Thom was standing at the kitchen table, trying to peel an egg.
‘Hi Thom,’ he said. There was a note of excitement in his voice for the first time since he’d left The Grand. ‘I’ve got something for you!’
Thom didn’t look up. He kept on peeling his egg.
Undeterred, Vincent held up the brand-new yellow boots. ‘Boots, Thom.’ Vincent pointed. ‘For your feet.’
Thom looked at him blankly.
‘Here. Let me help you.’ While he continued to pick the shell from his egg, Vincent took off Thom’s shoes, pulled the boots onto his feet and zipped them up. Vincent was quietly thrilled with his work. He squeezed around the toes. They were a perfect fit.
‘Come, Thom. Walk with me,’ he said, taking him by the hand.
Thom shoved the whole egg in his mouth and let Vincent lead him around the table. And when he heard the music, his eyes lit up like the flashing lights around the edges. He screamed and jumped up and down, which is what he did when he was really excited. All the commotion brought Vincent’s mum and dad running into the kitchen.
And then Thom did something he’d never done before.
He hugged Vincent.
Not a long hug. Just a fleeting hug. But it was a hug all the same.
No one could believe it.
Vincent’s eyes prickled with tears. I love you, Thom. He couldn’t remember feeling as happy as he did right at that moment. And it surely was one of the grandest feelings on earth.
‘I think he likes them,’ said Vincent’s mum, putting her arm around him.
‘I think he does too,’ agreed Vincent.
In fact Thom loved his boots so much he refused to take them off. Not even to go to bed and not even to take a bath. Of course you can’t go without a bath for too long so to stop his boots getting ruined, his mum had to cover them with shopping bags held on with rubber bands. And they worked out a special manoeuvre where Thom plonked himself in backwards like a scuba diver off the side of the boat, leaving his boots high and dry on the edge of the bath.
And while Vincent didn’t think he deserved all the credit, once Thom had his musical boots, everything just improved. Light returned to his mum’s and dad’s eyes and they began to enjoy each day rather than just trying to get through it. Mostly it was because along with some of the money Vincent had made shining shoes, his mum and dad finally had enough to send Thom to see the specialist in town. He explained what was wrong with Thom and how to help him. So every day Vincent’s mother sat down and tried to teach Thom how to talk. As well as do all the simple but extremely complicated things most people do without being taught how to do them. Like understanding how people feel by reading their face. Or how to play nicely and take turns. All these things were hard for Thom and that’s why he had terrible tantrums. He was frustrated and frightened. The world didn’t make sense to him and that was really scary.
One evening, Vincent was lying on his bed. He reached under and pulled out an old shoebox filled with all his sticky-taped up postcards of The Grand. He flicked through them the way he always did. He thought about Zelda and Dr Maaboottee and Rupert.
And Florence.
Despite all their promises to see each other and stay friends, Florence had never called. Vincent told himself she was probably too busy. Running The Grand was a huge job. He’d seen it for himself. But he could hardly lay all the blame at her feet. While Florence hadn’t called him, he hadn’t called her either. In truth Vincent found the idea of returning to The Grand too painful. Although he desperately wanted to tell everyone his news from home and see how big baby Tommy had grown and hold Min, he couldn’t. To have been a part of The Grand family and then not a part of it hurt like hell. He knew he’d go back one day, but not yet. He couldn’t bear it. Along with his postcards, Vincent packed up all his feeling about Florence and The Grand and the terrible vision. Then he put them in the box and shoved them back under the bed.
Vincent’s mum poked her head round the door. ‘There’s a letter for you,’ she said in a singsongy voice, waving an envelope at him.
Vincent immediately noticed the small hand-drawn picture of the hotel in the bottom left-hand corner. It was the official stationery of The Grand. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed the envelope. He waited for his mother to leave and then slowly opened it.
Dear Vincent,
We thought you might like to
see a picture of Tommy.
He’s learning how to use his trunk. He can pick things up and put them in his mouth and scratch himself when he has an itch! Tommy is now well over 100 kilograms – around what he should have been when he was born. Winnie is a wonderful mother and she is taking fine care of him. We do hope you’ll visit soon. Zelda says her sandals really could use a polish and if you don’t come up to visit us, she’ll be coming down to visit you! It’s been busy here at The Grand, as always over summer.
Love to you and your family, Vincent.
Zelda and Dr Maaboottee
Vincent looked at the picture of Tommy. He had big eyes and tufts of wiry black baby hair on his head. Vincent thought there couldn’t possibly be anything cuter. He felt a surge of warm pride. To think he had played a part in bringing Tommy into the world! Just then Thom came into the room. He leant against Vincent’s bed and looked at the picture.
Vincent pointed at the elephant. ‘Look, elephant! Remember? An elephant called Tom, like you.’
Thom grabbed the picture. He looked at it hard. ‘Tom,’ he said.
Vincent sat up. Was that a cough or did he just say Thom?
Vincent poked Thom in the chest. ‘Thom.’ Then he pointed at the elephant. ‘Tom. Like you.’
Thom poked himself in the chest. ‘Thom,’ he said. He pointed at the elephant and said it again. ‘Tom.’
That was no cough!
‘MUM! DAD! COME QUICKLY! THOM JUST SPOKE! HE SPOKE!’
Vincent’s mum and dad burst into the room.
‘Thom just said his name, watch.’
Vincent pointed at Thom. ‘Thom’
Thom looked at Vincent. He poked himself in the chest. ‘Thom,’ he said.
Vincent’s mum and dad gasped. ‘Good boy!’ cried Vincent’s mum, clapping. ‘That’s right! You’re Thom! Good boy!’
Thom said it again. He seemed to enjoy making the sound with his mouth and the applause that followed. Vincent’s mum and dad wrapped their arms around him and gave him a huge hug. Their eyes wide with happiness. Thom squirmed out of their embrace and bounded off like a kangaroo singing, ‘Thom, Thom, Thom, Thom.’