by Tom Butler
Coupled with comments made by Wes Crowley in his statement, confirming that he and Budgie Bird had clashed at Monkspath Grange over a month ago and comments attributed to Jed Murray, worrying over the bad choice of friends Noah’s brother had made, it was a disturbing revelation. And one that Leicestershire CID were prepared to listen to.
Purely with Mary’s welfare in mind, it was Sylvia who now pursued parity between James and Noah. It had gone on long enough, and at their ages, there was far more to life than bickering and deep-seated incriminations. In theory, they had just saved each other’s lives, albeit, the situation they had found themselves in last Sunday should never have been allowed to materialise in the first place. But you couldn’t change the course of history simply with a lecture or two about the innocence of youth or the folly of sheer pig-headedness.
Armed with what she knew and with Noah on the brink of being discharged, she brought it up at visiting time on a pretty dreary Friday afternoon, and like it was meant to be, he eventually told her what she, and more so James, wanted to hear.
‘Don’t think I don’t know what people think,’ he began, sounding philosophical. ‘James once called me a plonker, and he got it dead right. He also said I’d sell my own granny to get on in life,’ he smiled. ‘And if I had one I probably would.’
‘You’re just ambitious, that’s all,’ she empathised.
‘Even the band had it in for me in the early days,’ he reminisced. ‘Joe thought I was too young and needed to grow up. And he accused me of playing duff notes. Melissa thought I was childish and questioned my ability to sing solo which I had often pressed for. I had to almost fight her old man to get him to consider Peaceful Man, and then when he did, he wouldn’t allow me to sing on the record. That left me gutted, but I got over it. The song grew on people, and it was flattering to have them saying what a great song it was and asking me how I came to write it. I got carried away, and I really believed it was my song.’
‘You wrote it together, or at least you contributed,’ she reminded him.
‘James came up with the words. He had a knack at doing that. I played about with it, and we got some sort of tune going. But I know, and I’ve always known the truth. But James was a twelve-year-old kid at the time. Who in their right mind would believe he could think of something like that at that age. I just started to think he’d forget all about it. But I was wrong. But then, how could I lose face when the song became a hit sometime later. I would have been made to look a fool and a liar. Jed wouldn’t have liked that one bit, and he’d have probably sent me packing.’
‘It wasn’t a major crime,’ Sylvia interrupted. ‘Surely, you could have just added James’s name to the credits?’
Noah shook his head.
‘I had told everyone who asked that I had written it myself. That it was about my father before—you know what?’
‘You were very young. The same age as James is now. Only sixteen.’
‘I just wanted people to like me. It didn’t feel like theft at the time. I got away with it, but now it’s time to confess.’
‘What will you say? Will the others in the band understand?’
It needed some thought. As well as tact and diplomacy.
‘I’ll make them understand somehow. I love the life I have, even if I keep fouling it up.’
Sylvia thought about Sinead and the unborn baby.
‘There is support out there if you want it,’ she sighed. ‘That’s up to you. But children change things. They are wonderful. But they also tie you down. I’m sure Sinead is a lovely girl, and we look forward to getting to know her.’
The sigh he gave her back wasn’t something he conjured up for her benefit. It was genuine.
‘Thanks, I’m sorry you found out like you did. I was scared to tell anyone. It was not something to be proud of but—’
‘A child is a miracle,’ she interjected. ‘A miracle,’ she repeated.
There was a calmness about Noah she had never noted before. Would he slow the pace of his life sufficiently to include others or was this just a temporary thing manufactured by a near death experience? At least his conscious was being cleared in respect of James and the unplanned pregnancy, and both those things boded well for the future.
Still, confusion reigned over Noah’s stabbing with somebody on Facebook having the audacity to suggest it was down to a crazed fan and akin to John Lennon’s murder. The comparison was purified fiction as was the premise that Noah was famous enough to be targeted in that way.
He had been, never the less, guarded closely when he left hospital on Saturday morning, and Sylvia was thrilled to have him back at hers for a period of relatively peaceful convalescence.
This was the opportunity for both James and Noah to turn back the clock and make up. After a supper of Steak Pie and chips, the brothers escaped to Noah’s room and the healing process began.
‘On Monday, I’ll come clean to the record company and tell them to replace my name with yours, and I’ll make sure you get every penny of royalties owing to you.’ he said.
James thought that was going way too far.
‘No, we’ll share everything. The credits, the money. I don’t want all of it. I never did. Just say I didn’t want any fuss at the time and leave it at that.’
‘Only if you’re sure.’
‘I am,’ James insisted. ‘Perhaps one day, the Swan brothers will write another song together.’ he speculated.
‘I like the way you’re thinking, bro. The Swan Brothers sounds good. We’ll make a great team.’
James told him about the songs he had written with Wes and even the one Liz had composed which still seemed bizarre due to her previous non-commitment to music.
Noah put aside any envy and asked his brother to sing to him, like he was supposed to do five weeks ago at his eighteenth.
James, risking a joke at his brother’s expense, at first shook his head.
‘What, and have you steal it from under me and record it yourself,’ he japed.
Laughter was not the best thing for Noah’s stitches, but he gave it a go and said he fully deserved to be made fun of. He even brought up the question of whether James would make a good uncle or not and in some way reaped some revenge.
Noah being a dad and having a baby to fend for seemed surreal. It was not something they remembered ever talking about when younger. If it wasn’t music or sport it didn’t merit any form of conversation. Though girls did sometimes come under close scrutiny where Noah was concerned.
For James the word “uncle” was cool. And if it meant a nephew all the better. But a niece would be nice too, he supposed. Such talk was evidence of the life changing events that often crept up on you unnoticed and was an omen for things to come.
Collectively, and with family firmly in mind, they both wondered what Mary would think to becoming an aunt in her early teens and whether she would take to Sinead, who had not had the time yet to make any sort of lasting impression.
‘She’ll be OK about it,’ Noah assured his brother without telling him the reasoning behind it. ‘She’s a girl, isn’t she,’ he generalised. ‘I bet she will love having someone to mother and boss around like she used to do with you.’
James winced at the memory, and in some ways, nothing had changed. Mary still told him off, lectured him and sometimes made him scream inside.
‘She never did,’ he fantasised.
‘Believe what you want to believe. I know differently.’
‘And what about you,’ James retaliated. ‘Don’t go telling me you never got that look from her. You know the one—the evil eye.’
‘That must have been somebody else. It wasn’t me,’ Noah teased.
They had both rediscovered their humorous side and seemed to like what they had found. The fabric of family life wasn’t fully mended yet, but the seeds had been sown. It was tantamount to a major breakthrough.
******
Chapter Twenty-One
It was not as plain sai
ling for Noah as he had hoped. Jed Murray wasn’t a man to mess around with and didn’t waste time on sympathy. Warnings about drink and drugs and too little sleep hadn’t always been heeded, and now he had to ingest two shocking revelations at the same time. The truth about Peaceful Man wasn’t going to lessen the song’s appeal or impact, but it did rather cast Noah as a villain for not admitting he was only entitled to a share of the royalties. What else had he lied about or distorted the truth of for his own gain? Jed wondered. And why the hell was he practically the last person on earth to find out about the baby?
Not even his daughter was prepared for the fallout caused by the news nor the savagery of his words.
‘It will have to be gotten rid of. This just cannot be happening,’ he had raged, not once sparing anyone’s feelings.
‘That’s not down to you,’ she had snapped back, unhappy at his insensitivity.
‘It’s a shock, but we’ll all deal with it.’
He ranted. ‘I’ll deal with it alright; I’ll cut off his dick and feed it to the ducks in the park. Doesn’t he know about contraception or is going in unprotected his idea of living the dream,’ he scowled.
It was hardly father/daughter conversation stuff, but he was making a point to her, as if reminding her of her obligations. He was not usually so candid or cruel, but if he didn’t lay the law down who else would?
Not at all embarrassed by him, Melissa shrugged her narrow shoulders and said, ‘Don’t get too angry; a couple of weeks ago, he was fighting for his life, remember? He won’t welcome threats from you on top of that.’
He hadn’t forgotten, but for him, there was no time to dwell on it.
‘Why did it have to be that girl out of all of the ones sniffing around him? I don’t doubt for a minute she’s a junkie,’ he said, callously.
Melissa looked a little horrified. ‘You can’t say that. We barely know her.’
‘I know her type,’ he said, pausing. ‘One flick of her eye lashes and a flash of thigh, and he’d be putty in her hands.’
‘We’ll help Noah get through it,’ she ignored him. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the same age when you and mum had Simon, and you had to get married.’
It was his turn to show ignorance.
‘He must surely see what having a kid will mean. I want him focussed on the band, not changing nappies and reading bedtime stories.’
‘Poor, Daddy. It’s all about you, isn’t it?’
The sarcasm hit home, but he was still preaching from the Murray soapbox.
‘We all have a duty to each other. I feel betrayed. I flog my guts out, and that’s the thanks I get.’
‘Poor Daddy,’ she repeated, annoyingly.
Despite being aware of her feelings, he turned his thoughts to Greg Summers.
‘Maybe we should give the lad an extended break until he gets himself sorted. I can’t afford to carry passengers. We have a readymade replacement, purely temporary, of course.’
Greg had sounded good at the charity gig a few days ago, and even Melissa hadn’t shown any hostility towards him. But then he had been on his best behaviour for once.
‘I think that’s a bad idea,’ she reacted. ‘And Noah will hate the thought of missing out. He’s itching to get back on stage. All the talk of babies and responsibilities is driving him mad.’
‘All the more reason for getting completely away from all the hassle that goes with performing in front of live audiences. A bit of Mediterranean sun wouldn’t do him any harm, and I could arrange for the family to go along too.’
‘Well, I think it sucks,’ she said truthfully. ‘And Noah will hate it. When have you ever seen him sunbathe? He doesn’t have the complexion for it.’
‘Idling about in a warm climate, cold drinks by a pool. Bikini clad beauties to look at. What’s there not to like about it.’
Melissa shivered at the thought. ‘What do you propose to do about Sinead? You have to include her now whether you like the girl or not.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t have to do anything. If Noah wants her to go, he can stump up for her; if he doesn’t, she’s got family of her own, I suppose.’
‘You suppose?’
‘Look, my sweet little innocent,’ he retaliated. ‘He doesn’t have to marry the girl, you know. Lots of fathers of illegitimate kids have nothing to do with their sprogs. If he wants to play happy families then fine; if he doesn’t then who am I to tell him what to do.’
‘You are his manager, Dad. He looks up to you. We all do.’
He had no answer to that because he knew, in the main, she was right. Whilst Noah had solid foster parents, it wasn’t quite the same as having the real thing to guide you through life.
‘I still think he needs more time to recover. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘And I don’t,’ she said, forcibly.
Differing opinions in the Murray household were nothing new, he thought. For now, he was happy to let her have the last word. But the subject was far from closed.
What Greg Summers had brought to the band, in Jed’s biased opinion, was experience at handling the big occasions. And with a heavy schedule planned, such attributes were invaluable. The East Midlands born twenty-eight-year-old was still hell bent on carving out a solo career, and his good looks and smooth vocals might help in that respect though Melissa, for one, doubted whether he had enough talent to sustain him in the competitive world of progressive rock.
It could be a lonely place out on stage on your own and not one she cared much for herself, even though that might shape her own destiny with so many willing to raise her overall profile to that of a twenty-two carat gold, rock diva. For now, she preferred the safety of numbers and the chance to rest her vocal chords when passing the mantel to sing to Joe or very occasionally Noah. Fame sometimes brought impetuosity, making you reach too high for the stars. She didn’t want to be an ageing has-been at thirty. There was no point in running marathons until you had perfected the art of putting two feet evenly in front of each other. It would have been too much too soon.
Arguably, Noah was milking the situation, ignorant to the threat of Greg, who he surprisingly got on well with. Although giving the impression he couldn’t wait to get back to performing, there was no actual rush on his behalf. The enforced lay off had brought him much karma. He was getting around now and had met both of Sinead’s estranged parents, neither of them seeming to care too much that their daughter, only just turned seventeen, was carrying their first grandchild. The same had befallen her mother at that age, the rather laid back and aloof woman behaving as if it was a hereditary thing passed down through the generations. And Sinead’s father was in no position to preach to her or snarl at Noah on account he had just had a child with a girlfriend fifteen years his junior. A girl Sinead had already labelled a tramp and a loser, just for starters.
Sinead, herself, had reached the sixteen-week stage and was happy to show anyone interested her first scan photograph which was the absolute proof of her condition, given she was showing only the faintest trace of a baby bump.
It was the subject of conversation for Sylvia, Clare and Mary when Noah persuaded Sinead around for Sunday afternoon tea, as was his prolonged absence from the band for Phillip, Luke and James.
James, who had been earnestly revising for his O levels in between inventing more song lyrics, thought his brother was now exaggerating his reasons for not gigging with the band and taking earlier medical warnings too literally. Get Well cards and letters from fans were still being sent but not in such quantity, and the well-behaved Greg was building up a surprising rapport with Joe and Melissa on stage, though the latter still mistrusted him. With a major tour not far away and the residue of college gigs still to perform, James thought Noah was becoming far too cool about the situation, whether he’d had assurances from Jed Murray or not.
‘Don’t you miss being up there?’ James had asked Noah after losing to him at computer tennis. ‘I know I would,’ he added
.
‘Of course, I miss it,’ Noah replied. ‘But why take risks. I’ll be back for the big ones. They’re the ones that matter.’
‘You’ll need to rehearse.’
‘You worry too much, bro. It’s all up here.’ Noah tapped his temple. ‘How could I forget it?’
‘I was only thinking that you ought not stay away from it for too long,’ James clarified.
‘There’s not much going on I don’t get to hear about. Greg is doing OK as my stand in and keeping things going. He’s planning a solo career, you know, though personally I worry that his vocals will let him down.’
The same notion had crossed James’s mind too, leaving every reason for Noah to be mindful of how quick decisions can be made. And how loyalties can be switched, assurances or not.
‘You know best,’ James shrugged, unconvinced.
‘Yes,’ Noah said after a thoughtful pause. Then he said ‘Yes’ aloud several times and endorsed it with an empathic nod of his head.
‘When the time’s right,’ he re-emphasized.
It was refreshing to see both Swan brothers interacting without waging war at each other, and Sylvia, for one, was glad to have them both at home at the same time. She knew it had to come to an end soon with talk of Noah and Sinead moving into an apartment of their own and becoming like a proper couple. This troubled Noah, naturally, making him wish he’d been more circumspect and less gung-ho about life in general which now had him wondering how best he would cope with the changes to come.
James was troubled too, dreading the exams that had come all too quickly, on which so much depended. His exceptional course work in geography, history and music had virtually guaranteed him passes in those subjects, but to get into the sixth form college he desired, he would have to rely on sneaking passes elsewhere. It was a scenario Noah was familiar with and messages of good luck to James were warmly received, as they were from all of the family and especially Wes.
