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

of the Thai menu to see what would happen. And what happened was that he stopped talking completely and started listening. So I kept going.

When I mentioned Mum’s name he goes, Sadie Fore—? Who . . . ? Oh . . . um . . . Sadie . . . Sadie, well, OK. And then he didn’t say anything for a bit, like he might have been thinking. I’d finished my two lines and I didn’t want to mess things up, so I kept quiet as well. Then he goes, Sadie Foreman you say, eh? And she’s got a kid, eh? It didn’t really seem like it was a good time to blurt out that yes she has and actually so might you and it’s me. So I just said yes and I’d sort of lost her and I just happened to find his number and no other responsible adults were answering, so I wondered if he’d mind helping me out. Please. And thank you. It’s Norman.

It turned out I’d called at a pretty good time because the reason James had sounded quite happy to hear from me was that he needed my help as much as I needed his. And just so you know, I don’t reckon I ever would have dared to do what James asked me to do if I hadn’t been so scared. But it was getting really late and there was still no sign of Mum or Leonard, and every time I thought about them my tummy started doing flip flops and not the good kind. So when James said, aye, he’d help me out, and thanks for considering him a responsible adult by the way, but that actually I might have to do him a small favour first, everything about stranger danger just went out the window and I wanted to cry with happiness. Actually, I did cry a bit and it wasn’t all for happiness, but I stuck my sleeve in my mouth to make sure he didn’t hear.

If I’d been a bit older, I might have thought that what James asked me to do for him was actually quite strange, which is what a few adult type of people pointed out to me later. Including James himself. But the only person I had to ask for advice was Jax. And even though he wasn’t really there and so I didn’t get a proper answer, I could guess what he would have said. Jump in! Jump in the deep end, Normie, boy! Come on! Plus I was pretty sure he would somehow have got a message to me if James was what he called a dodgy geezer.

What James said was that he was a wee bit indisposed and that before he could help with finding Mum he needed me to get him out of a tricky situation involving a tumble dryer and a trip across town. And even though I thought it was probably illegal for a twelve-year-old kid to be out on the streets of Edinburgh alone at night, and even though I was properly scared by then, Jax didn’t send me any signs that James was a dodgy geezer so I said yes.

Then I wrote down everything he said about bus numbers and street names and back doors of nightclubs and laundry rooms and calling him if I got lost along the way, because it was just a wee bit difficult for him to call me in his present situation. I listened really, really carefully and wrote everything down, and by the time he finished there was no room left on the back of the Thai menu at all.

Then James goes, so how about it, Norman, reckon you can do it? And I looked at all the stuff I’d written down neatly and in order, and because I had a plan and I knew where I was going so I’d know exactly when I got there, just like Jax says, I honestly really and truly felt like I could. And as soon as I decided that, even though I still had quite a lot of scared inside of me, I also felt really, really proud. Because I’d gone and done it. I’d jumped in the deep end all on my own, feet first, head up, and I was about to start swimming. And I reckon that’s just what Jaxy would have done.

I nearly couldn’t believe it even came out of my mouth, but what I said was, ‘Piece of piss, James!’ Which I’d never said before, not even once, but I bet you know who said it a lot. I was beginning to understand James’s accent pretty good by then and he shouty whispered down the phone, ‘Aye, right then, that’s ma boy!’

And I thought, yeah, well. One never knows.

45

First rule of comedy: You’ve gotta risk it for the biscuit.

I’d never, ever in my whole life broken a promise to Mum, and I’d promised her I wouldn’t leave the Soft Fudge under any circumstances. But she’d also promised she’d be back by six o’clock at the latest so I figured, fair dos. Also, it wasn’t like I was going off to meet up with a proper stranger or anything. I mean, there was a chance James was my dad so I figured that had to count for something.

He seemed to know a lot about Edinburgh, though, because when I told him we were staying in Leith he said all I had to do was walk up the road and get to any bus stop that said bus number 16 stopped there. And because he was right it was very helpful and so that part was easy. When bus number 16 came I already had my cover story ready, which was that I was on my way home after karate class. It took me ages to decide between that and a late dentist appointment and even then I changed my mind at the last minute. But anyhow, it was nothing like Penzance because the