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

given by a well-meaning nurse at Truro hospital, his quizzical one-eyebrow raise made Norman laugh out loud, despite what it cost him. Leonard mimed putting one of the pills in his mouth and Norman shook his head and delicately pointed towards his side-shuffled little bum sticking out beyond the sheet. Leonard’s face contorted into a mask of faux shock and terror and they both burst into giggles again. A few seconds later I saw a mass of pin-prick blood spots on the sheet that covered Norman’s hip and I hoped the laugh had been worth it.

When Norman closed his eyes to recover from the effort Leonard went back to examining the pharmaceutical stash on the desk.

‘Does any of this stuff actually work, Sadie?’

None of it.

‘Oh, you know, maybe. Sometimes, some of it. For a while.’

I really don’t know how much I’ve spent over the years on them, but my guess is that I’d be able to buy my very own suite at a Premier Inn for what I’d wasted on all those useless creams. I’d often fantasized that there was a factory somewhere churning out different-coloured stinky salves to keep up with the demands of desperate parents looking for relief for their kids. Red? Blue? Hey, let’s try a purple one this week and add the water from an underground spring in the upper Peruvian Andes for good measure.

‘It’s all full of terrible, terrible chemicals, Sadie.’ Leonard clicked his tongue and tut-tutted as he read the back of a tube. ‘How on earth can doctors and scientists think that putting all that awful stuff on to poor little human skin could possibly be good for it?’

I’d been asking myself the same question for most of Norman’s life but, to me, the risk of not trying whatever new miracle cream came on the market far outweighed any other hazards.

‘I’m sure you . . . well, please forgive me for asking, Sadie, if it’s not appropriate, but have you ever considered alternative medicine for Norman’s skin?’

Over the past ten years we’d tried many kinds of alternative treatments, and even a few alternatives to the alternatives. I closed my eyes and tried to remember even one of them that had made the smallest bit of difference. It was an infinite array and I must have zoned out for longer than I’d thought.

‘Sorry, sorry, of course you have. I didn’t mean to suggest . . .’ Leonard looked mortified that he might have offended me. ‘The thing is, I went on a lovely little one-day course over in St Ives last October, Sadie. It was . . . well, I can’t quite remember what it was called, but this wonderful Chinese chappie showed us the different uses for herbs and flowers and the like for . . . for improving the memory and . . . and other sorts of common ailments. And . . . well, I don’t specifically remember anything for skin conditions like Norman’s, but . . . I wonder if maybe . . .’

He pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and began tapping away and, after a bit of scrolling up and down, he clicked a few buttons and I saw a Google Map flash up on the screen. Time to go home? Not likely.

‘Ah yes. Here we are. Perhaps I’ll go for a walk. Would . . . is it all right with you if I talk to a Chinese herbalist about Norman’s, err . . . predicament?’

While my enthusiasm for new suggestions in terms of a cure for Norman’s skin had long ago waned, at this point we really didn’t have anything to lose. So, after apologetically taking a few close-up pictures on his phone of Norman’s face, arms, legs and torso, Leonard set off to see a man about a boy.

I sat in the armchair watching Norman’s chest rise and fall in a fitful sleep and I must have dozed off myself, because I woke with a start and realized nearly two hours had passed. Norman was still asleep in the exact same position he had lain down in and there was no sign of Leonard. Or his alternative Chinese medicine.

After another half-hour passed and he still hadn’t returned, I went down the hallway to check his room, just in case he’d come back and decided to take a little nap himself. But after several loud knocks I had to concede he wasn’t there and I returned to my armchair vigil. Now with two things to keep me occupied.

Worrying about Norman was one thing, but Leonard was a grown man with a Google Map, I reasoned, and he’d found his way around the jungles of Borneo, for heaven’s sake. But I still couldn’t shake the uneasy memory of that vague, faraway look I’d seen on his face more than once, and the feeling that maybe he wasn’t quite as on the ball as he’d always seemed.

It wasn’t until, with a whoosh of relief that genuinely surprised me with its intensity, I finally heard Leonard’s soft knock knock at the door and I remembered that, any minute now, a certain Adam Linley might be walking into a pub expecting to meet his prodigal son.

33

I had no reason to think that Adam Linley was even going to show up at O’Neill’s, as there hadn’t been so much as a peep in response to my text. But with Norman out of action and the whole plan unravelling at a rate of knots, I figured the least I could do was keep the rendezvous at seven o’clock, just in case.

By the time Leonard had shown up with a shopping bag full of little newspaper packages tied up with red string and a sheepish exclamation about getting just a tiny bit lost, I had about five minutes to spare to get to the pub. Which was exactly enough because, courtesy of Leonard’s planning skills, O’Neill’s was literally around the corner.

‘I won’t be long, Leonard. I’ll just wait around for half an hour or so, and if the guy . . . if Adam doesn’t show up, I’ll