The Funny Thing about Norman Foreman by Julietta Henderson (e book reader online txt) 📕

Even though I was totally thinking about Jax, I didn’t feel sad like I usually did when I thought about him. Which was always. And because I didn’t feel sad I closed my eyes and imagined that he was sitting right there squished into the booth next to me laughing too. Louder than everyone else put together, because that’s how it would be. And I know it sounds weird, but I could actually feel him there, because when you sit next to Jax you can feel something coming off him, maybe sort of like electricity. Honest. I swear I heard him buzzing once.

This one time when we were first friends I touched his arm and we both got zapped. We just cracked up when it happened, because it was like when something is bad but it’s good at the same time. After that he always used to rub his feet on the carpet when he was coming up behind me and try to zap me when I wasn’t expecting it. He got me lots, but I never minded because it was always that bad but good feeling.

When I opened my eyes in the café everyone was still talking and laughing like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just tried to imagine my dead best friend back to life. But I really, really had, because I’ll tell you something else too. I’d already seen him that day.

When I walked out on stage at the talent show I couldn’t see a thing in the audience because of the lights, but as soon as I started talking all of a sudden I could see everything right up to the back row of the auditorium. And you’ll never guess who was up there, but if you guessed Jax you’d be right.

He was standing on one of the seats holding up a bunch of cardboard sheets with words painted on them like they do in those old-fashioned music video clips. He kept pulling the cards out of the bunch and holding them up for me to read then dropping them on the ground. And even when the Frank fell off the stage Jax kept on pulling out those cards faster and faster and holding them up for me to say the lines. Which is why I kept on going till the end. Not because I had suddenly got clever or funny or brave. Or because all that practising I did with Leonard had actually worked. I kept going because Jax was helping me.

When I started laughing in the Cosy Tree Café it was like when I started crying in Barnstaple, which got me thinking that maybe the storing up laughing thing was the same for crying. Later, when I went for a wee, I was washing my hands and I looked in the mirror and saw lots and lots of teeny tiny spots of blood coming through my shirt. Because I’d laughed so much remembering about She Prefers Hobnobs to Husbands and getting zapped by Jax that the big bits of scale on my chest had cracked. But even though it hurt and even though I knew all that blood probably wasn’t going to come off my one good shirt for the trip I didn’t care. Because it was like everything just felt a little bit looser.

28Sadie

When I’m old and senile and reliving my misspent middle years I think maybe I’ll remember our three days in Swansea as the time Norman started to come back. Because even though it was only a brief glimpse, that guy laughing his heart out in the Cosy Tree Café looked very much like the son I used to have.

The next day, while Leonard sat out on the balcony doing whatever it was he did on his laptop, Norman was helping me pack our bags. As I sorted out clothes and shoes and underpants I saw him carefully roll up his certificate from the talent show and wedge it inside a sock at the bottom of his case. He caught me looking and straight away he arranged his face into a smile for my benefit. It didn’t quite make it to his eyes, though, turning off down a side street at his cheekbones and slipping off into the neck of his crumpled T-shirt to have a quiet drink alone in a bar.

Oh, because I was definitely jealous I hadn’t been the one to make Norman laugh like that at the Cosy Tree. It had been so long since I’d heard that laugh for real I’d sat there watching him, just wanting it to go on and on for ever. But then he stopped and closed his eyes, and he stayed like that for so long it made me wonder if in his head he was standing at a crossroads with tumbleweeds drifting past, deciding which guy he was going to be for ever.

‘Hey, Mum?’ My son’s soft voice brought me back to the now and the sound of distant strangers’ laughter drifting up from the Swansea beach. Come in deeper, Sadie, I’ve got you.

‘So do you reckon either of the Franks did get a certificate too?’ Tell me how you could not love this kid.

‘Oh, for sure, yeah. I reckon they both got one for joint best and fairest.’ There was such a long pause I wondered if he hadn’t heard me, because normally he’s so polite he laughs at my attempt to make jokes. Just to encourage me, I think. And because he really, really loves me.

‘Yeah. Hey, Mum? I’ve been thinking. The certificate . . . I mean, I know it was only for trying and stuff, and I didn’t like really win anything or anything . . . but it’s got to count for something, don’t you think? So I . . . I was thinking that maybe when we get to Bournemouth, well, maybe . . .’

Norman looked down at his feet and sat down heavily on