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

driver didn’t even look at me when I got on and pushed my exact change in his little box. It was pretty weird, because if a bus driver had seen a kid on his own after 8 p.m. at home it would have been an interrogation and who’s your mother straight up, but this guy just started driving again before I even got to sit down.

There was heaps of stuff to look at on the bus trip, but I had to concentrate on noticing the things James had told me to keep an eye out for so I wouldn’t miss the right stop. Like the Tesco Express when the bus was going to turn off Princes Street up Lothian Road, and Usher Hall, which meant I should start getting ready because my stop was next, and then Bread Street, which was my stop. Everything was exactly how I had written it down on the back of the menu, so I almost couldn’t believe it, but that part was pretty easy as well.

Even though it was Edinburgh, the being on a bus part wasn’t that much different to how I got to school every day, but when I got off the next bit was definitely not like anything I did every day or actually even any day. I made sure I was facing the right way, like James had said, before I started walking left up Grind-lay Street until I got to Cornwall Street, which even though I was feeling pretty nervous by then made me laugh on the inside. Because I’d come all the way from the county of Cornwall to end up on a street in Edinburgh called Cornwall. How weird is that?

James had told me the next thing to look out for was a big flashing red and white sign that said Whisky-a-Go-Go. He also said there’d probably be loads of people hanging around and that some of them might be drunk because of the other nightclubs in that street. Maybe not this early, but be careful anyhow, he said. And don’t talk to anyone. I made sure I wrote that down so it was part of the list and I wouldn’t forget. Don’t talk to anyone. Be careful, Norman. I didn’t and I was.

James was right about the loads of drunk people, but the good thing was that there were so many of them nobody even noticed me when I walked right past the front door of the Whisky-a-Go-Go club and turned left down the alley beside it. And even though my tummy was doing all sorts of scaredy topsy-turvy jumpy stuff, it also felt kind of good too. I felt like a spy or a superhero or something. And I reckon I felt a little bit like Jax too, because it was the sort of stuff he’d do, not me. But when I kept getting that bad but good feeling in my tummy it made me understand a little bit better why Jax always wanted to choose the hard way.

When I got almost to the end of the alley I saw a load of huge metal bins and next to them was a big red door with Emergency Exit on it. I pulled on the metal bar and it opened exactly like James said it would. Before I went in I turned around and looked behind me. Then, because there was nobody there and because I was so topsy turvy and excited I actually couldn’t help myself, I did a double fist pump to the empty alleyway. And for a first-timer, I reckon the Norman Foreman technique was pretty good.

There was only one tiny light in the hallway once I got inside and it was so dark it took me quite a few blinks before I could even see my own hands in front of me. Not that it turned out there was too much to see. James had said that even though there shouldn’t be anyone in there I should probably try to be really quiet just in case, so I tiptoed past the first green door on the left that said Utilities and then I didn’t even need to check my notes to know that the next door on the right called Laundry was the one I was looking for, because I’d pretty much memorized my instructions on the bus. I decided right then and there that if comedy didn’t work out the next best thing would definitely be for me to join MI5. I reckon I’m a natural.

46

First rule of comedy: Think funny. Look funny. Be funny.

James looked like a rock star. Not that I’ve ever been up close to a rock star and even though my first look at him was kind of folded in half and squashed into a massive tumble dryer. That’s him by the way, not me. I was the one standing in front of him shaking in my Converses and wondering if I was going to stay alive long enough to ever be able to do another one of those double fist pumps.

Actually, when I looked in the tumble dryer and saw a folded-up rock-star type of person I didn’t know for sure if it even was James. Because the first thing he said to me was Dr Livingstone, I presume, and so for a second I thought maybe I had the wrong laundry or even the wrong tumble dryer.

But before I could say, no, it’s me, Norman, I spoke to you on the phone remember, he goes, bloody hell, I cannae tell ye how good it is to see ye, Norman, now untie these, lad, and get me out of here. So I thought, well it is pretty dark and maybe he was just confused from being upside down for so long.

James’s hands were tied together really tightly with a rolled-up tea towel and he had his phone wedged right in between the knots. It wasn’t easy to try and get