Swan Song

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by Tom Butler


  He couldn’t imagine what Wes would think of it. But later he would share it with him. There was no point in keeping things to himself. He assumed Kate Bush never did all those years ago.

  ******

  Chapter Eighteen

  Around mid-afternoon, and barely before the day’s festivities had begun, James received the shock of his life. He had heard the voices of people at the front door and thought he recognised one of them but then dismissed it. His Aunt Jaclyn had been an important part of his life once, and had it not been for her living on the other side of the Atlantic, she might have played an even bigger role.

  He overheard the voice again and shrank back. Surely not. Not when there were so many miles between them. It couldn’t be her. But it was, and husband Hal, though barely saying a word himself, was with her.

  Feeling both happy and sad at the same time, James froze. Although Aunt Jaclyn was very much alive, it was as though he had heard a ghost from his past. He should have been racing downstairs to greet them but waited instead for Sylvia to call him down.

  ‘Boy, look at you. Come here and give your Aunt a hug,’ Jaclyn said as James, his nerves in shreds, stopped half way down the stairs, just staring at his surprise guests.

  ‘Well, don’t I get a welcoming kiss, birthday boy?’

  His Aunt was smiling from ear to ear, and Hal was doing his damnedest to imitate her.

  ‘Hi yer,’ he said, both broadly and unemotionally and in an all too American style. He was ready with one of his infamous handshakes.

  ‘James,’ Sylvia prompted him. ‘Don’t just stand there. Do you have any idea how far these people have travelled to be here?’

  He knew. He was quite good at geography. It was perhaps his best subject at school.

  His feet started working again, and he got a big sloppy kiss from his Aunt and the expected over zealous handshake from Hal.

  ‘My, just look at you. So grown up and all that hair,’ Aunt Jaclyn marvelled. ‘I think I’m going to cry.’

  She did cry. Quite a lot in the next hour or so. Tears of joy as she met Mary again with the same comment about how grown up she looked even though she was only thirteen.

  All it needed for Jaclyn was for Noah to turn up, and she had it confirmed by Sylvia that he was on his way. When he was very young, she had had a soft spot for her first nephew. He could do no wrong. In spite of some rash behaviour since, he was still her favourite. And to cap it all, he was famous. A rock star, no less.

  Other guests were arriving, Wes and Liz carrying an expensively wrapped present that James couldn’t fail to guess because of its shape. A new guitar case to replace one he hadn’t looked after so well. They had also brought along daughter Fay, who had just returned from her gap year in Africa where she appeared to have lost a lot of weight. She gave James a peck on the cheek and said how much he had grown. He thought it best not to mention her weight loss and left that to Sylvia.

  Some family friends showed up, bearing cards and gifts and as well as several of Mary’s school friends she had asked Sylvia to invite as they had wanted to meet Noah. He dared not let them down by not turning up, she thought, virtually threatening him in her head.

  There were good smells emanating from the garden as Phillip and Luke primed up the barbecue and began cooking. Then making only a flying visit, amid screams from the girls, Joe and Melissa arrived in a chauffeur driven car that Jed had no doubt laid on for them. They looked around, expecting Noah to be already there. James got a birthday kiss from Melissa and a patronising pat on his back from a weary looking Joe who looked in need of sleep.

  ‘Thanks for coming,’ James said, totally in awe.

  Joe passed some not so clever comment about the last birthday party they had attended and Melissa, looking resplendent in a black and silver top dug him sharply in the ribs, clearly mouthing the word ‘Sorry’ to James.

  He deserved it, he thought. It had not been one of his better days and still one he regretted.

  ‘How’s the song writing going?’ Melissa asked him, declining the offer from Luke of a hot dog. ‘Have you written one for me yet?’

  ‘Not yet, but I will,’ he replied. ‘I promise.’

  She looked back at him as if she didn’t doubt it whilst Joe looked sceptical.

  Unlike Melissa, who was watching her figure, he had grabbed a hot dog from Luke and was now in the process of smothering it in brown sauce.

  It made Melissa shake her head, and James joined her in an embarrassing giggle.

  ‘I suppose Noah is waiting somewhere before making a big entrance,’ she then suggested, sipping some of Sylvia’s homemade punch and raising her eyebrows at its strength.

  James shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’re right, you know what he’s like.’

  Before he had finished saying it, Aunt Jaclyn and Uncle Hal had descended upon them, so much wanting to meet the hub of the rock band they had heard so much about.

  ‘You must come out to America and play the stadiums there. Some of the venues are massive,’ Jaclyn told Melissa.

  ‘We aim to,’ Melissa smiled back, not trying to sound too cocky as Joe listened in. Perhaps her father had that in his sights, but they had to conquer Britain first. But it was a nice notion. There was nothing like positive thinking.

  ‘Maybe one day,’ Jaclyn thought aloud. ’James could tour with you. Sylvia’s told me we have another singer, songwriter in the family to follow in Noah’s footsteps. Melissa looked at Joe and suppressed a smile. They then both looked at James.

  ‘Only just sixteen and so talented,’ Jaclyn went on. ‘Just like that adorable brother of his.’

  There was subdued laughter that Aunt Jaclyn missed. She too was affected by the power of the punch having already indulged herself with a second glass. Hal too, had several times looked inside his glass and said the word ‘Wow.’ Sylvia had perhaps added too much vodka. Or was it gin. Perversely, she wasn’t having any herself, wanting to keep a clear head until all the guests were here.

  Pete, Hooded Eye’s drummer showed up with the latest girlfriend who giggled incessantly and a few invited neighbours turned up to help demolish the food.

  By five Melissa, Joe and Pete had left, and there was still no sign of Noah. Several phone calls from Sylvia went unanswered, and she began to fear he had merely duped her into thinking he was coming. Then an equally relieved Mary heralded his sudden arrival, instigating a race to see who would get to him first, an astounded Noah shocked to see his aunt puckering up for a long awaited kiss. She made such a fuss over him, telling him she always knew he’d become famous.

  James was dismayed when he first spotted his brother, and he could tell that despite her warm welcome, Sylvia too, had been taken aback. Besides gaining another elongated tattoo down the length of one arm and wearing a tee shirt bearing an extremely rude slogan, Noah was attached to the same girl James last saw pawing at his brother in the Birmingham hotel room prior to being knocked unconscious. Noah introduced her as Sinead, and she just gave a little wave though James knew she was anything but shy. She had multi-coloured hair, facial piercings, and her clothing, or more precisely, what there was of it, left a lot to be desired. Her pale pink top was transparent, and her faded and frayed blue denim shorts were cut daringly high up her thighs. Not what Sylvia would ever want to see Mary wearing in years to come.

  She had immediately drawn attention from the men in her vicinity, and pretending not to recognise James, she spoke for the first time to wish him a happy birthday. To emphasise that they were now perhaps an item, Noah kept reaching out to her, sometimes putting his arm around her slim shoulders and then sometimes patting her bum to get his message across to anyone watching them.

  Mary seemed impervious to what she looked like or how Noah behaved towards her. She was just glad that the siblings were reunited again, and there didn’t appear to be any leftover bad feeling from the last time her brothers met up.

  ‘I got your letter, Bro,’ Noah informed James, once the introductions w
ere over and Sinead had begun to mingle. ‘I accept what happened between us was avoidable. I acted like a twat. We should just forget it. It was horrible seeing our sister cry. She doesn’t deserve that.’

  James thought it was big of his brother to own up to that, but he still took his share of the blame.

  ‘It should’ve happened. It won’t happen again.’

  It was tongue in cheek time when he said it because he couldn’t help but think Noah was being disrespectful to his foster mother for both his and Sinead’s poor dress sense. But he was determined not to make a major issue of it and left that to others if they felt insulted by it.

  After a pause and some repentant shrugs, Noah broke the silence.

  ‘Hannah sends her love. I was going to bring her with me, but she went to somebody else’s party last night and was a bit spaced out if you know what I mean,’ Noah said, raising his eyebrows high.

  James felt no inclination to discuss the girl believing she was never on any invitation list anyway.

  ‘When did you get that done?’ he asked, quickly changing the subject and pointing to the intricate design work on his brother’s right arm.

  ‘Weeks ago. Sinead thinks it’s wicked. She’s had a couple done herself but I couldn’t possibly tell you where. You’re far too young to know about things like that.’

  James guessed and tried not to blush. It was what some girls did just to be different. And to titillate themselves, he supposed.

  ‘Are you still knocking around with that old bloke? The one who never quite became famous?’ Noah asked him.

  ‘His name’s Wes, and he knows such a lot. We’ve been…’ he hesitated.

  ‘Been doing what?’

  ‘Nothing, just messing about with melodies, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh I see. Keeping it to yourself. Very wise Bro. Don’t want somebody stealing off you, do you.’

  Noah was being mischievous, and James wasn’t taking the bait. He changed the subject again.

  ‘Are you and Sinead properly together now? Have you whittled the girls down to one?’

  Noah laughed. ‘If you mean have I stopped having wild parties then the answer’s no. You should get yourself in a band, Bro. It’s one long party in between all the hard work. Mel’s dad is a slave driver, though. Sometimes, I think to myself that I ought to hate the man. Then I see my bank balance and decide I’m better off putting up with him. When I feel he’s expendable then that’s the time to move on.’

  Very philosophical, James thought. But also egotistical.

  ‘So the band’s just a stepping stone?’ he asked, reading his brother’s mind.

  Noah screwed up his face. ‘What’s with the third degree? I thought this was supposed to be a birthday party.’

  James shrugged. ‘So it is, thanks for coming. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.’

  Enough said, they went outside where Luke was dishing out the last of Phillip’s culinary masterpieces. They had a cheeseburger each, and Sylvia fairly gushed at the thought of them getting on so well again even if it still seemed unreal.

  Someone suddenly not enjoying the party was Sinead. Apart from being ignored by some, she had been to the toilet twice to throw up and had readily divulged that she hadn’t eaten all day. Liz had watched her closely and confided in Sylvia. ‘Either she’s anorexic or pregnant,’ she hazarded a guess. Sylvia, though not at all struck with the girl, tried harder to befriend her, and before the sun went down and they all went inside, she got to the truth.

  ‘Two months,’ Sinead owned up, watching the colour drain from Sylvia’s face.

  ‘And is Noah the father?’

  Almost taking offence, Sinead said, ‘Of course,’ and clammed up. She looked as though she might burst into tears any second.

  Sylvia took a long hard look at Noah. He was eighteen, but still a boy. Having a child wasn’t like going out and getting yourself another tattoo or searching a shop for the rudest tee shirt you could find. Nor was it ideal given the life style he had chosen for himself where settling down seemed a long way off. Why had he been so naïve and so stupid at the same time? Did he in fact know about the baby as she had forgotten to ask Sinead if he knew?

  The girl carrying her foster son’s baby was throwing up again and no doubt cursing her bad luck. She didn’t look that much older than Mary, and that in itself became a worry. What might it mean if Noah’s girlfriend did admit to being underage. Sylvia had to know, but she wasn’t going to get it from Sinead. Another birthday party was beginning to turn sour, and this time, it wasn’t because of James’s drunken bravado.

  She could have waited and tried to conceal her concern, but Phillip, his cooking duties over, had already noted the change in her mood. She virtually had to whisper what she had found out to him. He didn’t take it at all badly. Although he was a strong believer in family values, the question of an abortion in such circumstances came immediately to mind though he tactfully kept his thoughts to himself.

  They thought it best to tackle Noah jointly just as he was being pressed by a pale and exhausted looking Sinead to leave. She could tell what was about to be said and made tracks for the toilet again, holding her hand over her mouth.

  Assuming that he did know the reason for Sinead’s continued sickness, Sylvia asked him what his plans were and followed that up by inquiring about her age.

  Neither question went down well with Noah. The well-mannered side of him degenerated quickly and he couldn’t disguise his anger.

  ‘She’s old enough, and what I do is my business,’ he growled back at her.

  ‘Oh Noah, why couldn’t you have just come to us and talked it through,’ Sylvia said, raising her voice to meet his.

  ‘Because I knew what you’d be like. I will deal with it. I don’t want people judging me all the time. Just leave me alone.’

  James had gotten wind by now of what was going on in another room in the house, and he was fending off questions from Mary. And although he told her to stay out of it she did just the opposite which made Noah even more furious because he assumed the cat was out of the bag. Aunt Jaclyn and Hal’s ears were twitching and asking what was going on too so that worsened his predicament.

  ‘Look at all of you,’ he ranted. ‘It’s my life and if you don’t like it then tough.’

  Mary still didn’t fully understand why Noah was behaving like he was. ‘But Noah, why are you so mad. Tell me what’s happened.’

  He wasn’t allowed the time to conjure an answer.

  ‘Your favourite brother’s going to be a dad,’ James blurted out, suddenly less mindful that his sister might get upset.

  ‘What?’ Mary puzzled. ‘You’re going to have a baby?’

  Noah had his head in his hands, and he was screaming inwardly. None of this was supposed to happen. It was a birthday party. How could it go so wrong?

  Mary was becoming scared. ‘Noah, tell me, please. Is it true?’

  ‘We all need to calm down,’ Phillip said, breaking his silence.

  ‘Yes,’ Sylvia agreed. ‘What’s done is done. Nothing we say can change it.’

  Mary still did not have any answers, but she was reading between the lines.

  ‘So Sinead is having a baby?’ she concluded as Noah reeled about the room, his head still cradled in his hands.

  ‘Yes,’ Sylvia said, putting her arm around Mary’s girth. ‘That’s right. That’s why she’s feeling so sick.’

  ‘You’ve really screwed up now,’ James pitched in, his good intentions evaporating before everybody’s eyes. ‘This is one birthday I won’t forget in a hurry.’

  Sylvia and Phillip scowled at him in unison for making matters worse. Any bridges built earlier in the day had been truly demolished again. A happy occasion in the Proudlock house had been upstaged by the duelling Swan brothers and Noah was looking particularly ill at ease.

  James felt sure that if Noah could lay his hands on a bottle or two he would be in serious trouble, and if he did and his aim had improved
, he might well render him dead this time. That would at least, end all the arguments between them.

  Trying to act as peacemakers Aunt Jaclyn and Uncle Hal, now up to speed on what was occurring had suggested that everyone calm down before it got too out of hand. There was no sign of Sinead, and Mary was sobbing her heart out as her startled friends and Clare looked on. Phillip was positioning himself between the brothers knowing full well what either was capable of, and Wes and Liz were trying to talk sense into James in an effort to get him to back off.

  There was now some sort of disturbance outside the lounge that seemed to have nothing to do with the one going on inside and began with a lot of shouting. A scream echoed from the hallway, and Luke’s blood splattered face appeared as he staggered ungainly into the room, stunning those inside into silence. Sylvia instinctively moved towards him, reaching out, unsure how he had come to be injured. Behind him, entering the room, was a tallish, thickset man James vaguely recognised and further behind, a man James most definitely did. It was Darren Bird. Not the party gatecrasher anyone would want wished upon them.

  Mary and Clare both screamed as if in delayed reaction when they saw the amount of blood Luke was trying to wipe away from his nose, and Phillip, a man of some strength was now rushing towards the door primed to avenge his son. The first man, who had his hair tied in a ponytail and was being egged on from behind by Budgie easily matched Phillip in size and had his fists clenched, ready to fight.

  ‘Hello, birthday boy. Did you forget my invite?’ Budgie addressed James, who’s attention was also taken by another man attached to the gate-crashers, smaller in build and practically bald but looking equally as menacing as the first, who was posturing in front of Phillip as he stood his ground with the revised aim of protecting everyone else in the room.

  Budgie raised his voice to speak again. ‘Tell birthday boy to come outside, and we’ll leave the rest of you in peace. We just want to give him a very special present.’

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Phillip told James. ‘These gentlemen will be leaving now if they know what’s good for them,’ he threatened. He was very adept at carrying heavy bricks and wielding a pickaxe and now had both Wes and Hal in support as they propelled themselves forward to show strength in numbers.

 

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