Bumface

by Morris Gleitzman

  Angus felt Leo’s hand tighten around his.

  ‘I’m sorry, Leo,’ continued Number Two. ‘I have to be at the theatre by six each evening and I spend at least two hours before that doing voice exercises. It’s just not practical. But as soon as I get a chance, old mate, I’m going to take you to the zoo. Next month.’

  ‘What about …’ said Angus, desperately trying to remember the name of Number Two’s new wife, ‘… Priscilla?’

  Number Two glanced over his shoulder, stepped out of the house and pulled the door closed behind him. He glared at Angus.

  ‘Priscilla is very busy too,’ he said. ‘Unlike some mothers she chooses to stay at home and look after her children. You’re too young to understand this, young man, but it’s a lot of work, taking care of two young kids. Why doesn’t your mother hire a nanny?’

  It was Angus’s turn to give Number Two a hard look.

  ‘Mum doesn’t hire nannies,’ he said. ‘Not since she hired Priscilla and you ran off with her.’

  As Angus walked slowly home with Leo and Imogen, he saw that Leo was quietly crying.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, giving Leo a hug, ‘I’ll take you to the zoo some time. And tomorrow afternoon we’ll go and see Imogen’s dad.’

  ‘Go away,’ said Number Three.

  Angus sighed. He’d half expected this. Mum was always saying male models were selfish and moody.

  ‘Look,’ said Number Three, running his fingers through his hair, ‘me and your mother were together for two months. The kid was an accident.’

  Angus put his hands over Imogen’s ears. He wasn’t exactly sure what Number Three meant, but he was sure Immie wouldn’t like it.

  ‘I made it clear to Marlene at the time,’ said Number Three. ‘I don’t like kids.’

  Angus glanced anxiously at Leo. From the way he was standing, Angus could see he was thinking about giving Number Three a very hard kick.

  ‘What do you mean, an accident?’ asked Angus, still keeping his hands over Imogen’s ears.

  Number Three ran a hand over his chin stubble. ‘You know where babies come from, right?’ he said.

  Angus nodded.

  ‘From mummies’ tummies,’ said Leo.

  ‘Well, if mummies don’t want more babies,’ said Number Three, ‘they can take pills to stop them having more. If they don’t forget. Your mummy forgot. A lot.’ He started to close the door.

  ‘Wait,’ said Angus. ‘You’re still Imogen’s dad.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Number Three, ‘I’m really busy.’

  From inside the flat Angus heard the sound of a cork coming out of a bottle and men giggling.

  The door closed. Angus wasn’t surprised. How could a man who couldn’t even shave properly be a good father?

  ‘Bumface,’ shouted Imogen.

  *

  They went down the stairs and found Imogen’s stroller and started to walk home.

  ‘Well, that’s it,’ said Angus. ‘We’ve run out of dads.’

  ‘What about Number Four?’ asked Leo.

  ‘He’s not a dad,’ said Angus. ‘He’s a boyfriend.’

  Leo’s face fell. ‘That means you can’t be in the play,’ he said.

  Angus looked down at Leo’s concerned expression. How could any dad not want to take this kid to the zoo immediately?

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Angus. ‘I’ve got another plan.’

  7

  Angus stood outside the staffroom and rehearsed what he was going to say to Ms Lowry.

  ‘Is it OK if I bring my five-year-old brother and my one-and-a-half-year-old sister to rehearsals?’ he whispered to himself. ‘As you know, my mum’s an actor and she’s keen for Leo and Imogen to start absorbing the magic of theatre.’

  That sounded all right, and it wasn’t a lie. Mum would be keen, if she knew.

  Angus tapped on the staffroom door and reminded himself to explain to Ms Lowry that if Immie’s nappy needed changing Ms Lowry wouldn’t have to do it.

  Mr Nash the assistant principal appeared at the door and glared at Angus.

  ‘No teachers before school,’ he growled. ‘You know that.’

  ‘I need to see Ms Lowry,’ said Angus. ‘It’s really urgent.’

  Ms Lowry’s voice rang out from inside the staffroom. ‘Is that Angus Solomon? I want to speak to him.’

  Angus gave Mr Nash a relieved smile. Mr Nash grunted and went back inside.

  Wonder what she wants to speak to me about, thought Angus. Hope it’s to let me know the Tamagotchi’s been found. Or that Russell Hinch has been transferred to a high-security prison school.

  Ms Lowry appeared at the door. She didn’t look like a woman who’d found a Tamagotchi.

  Angus took a deep breath. ‘Miss,’ he began, ‘is it OK …’

  ‘Be quiet and listen,’ said Ms Lowry. ‘You, young man, have missed the last two rehearsals.’

  Angus sagged. ‘I can explain,’ he said weakly, but when he met her eye he knew he couldn’t. ‘It’ll never happen again, Miss,’ he said, ‘just as long as …’

  ‘It’s too late for promises,’ said Ms Lowry. ‘Plays only get produced when people are passionate and committed. I would have hoped you’d learnt that from your mother. But you’re obviously neither passionate nor committed, Angus, and so you’re out.’

  Angus stared at her.

  Out? What did she mean?

  ‘Out of the play.’

  His head felt as if she’d slapped it.

  ‘I can’t have unreliable people in speaking parts,’ continued Ms Lowry. ‘I’m sorry. You can help with the lighting.’

  Angus wanted to scream at her to listen, to understand, to be fair, but before he could make a sound she told him to go and get ready for class and closed the door.

  Angus had the petition circulating by lunchtime.

  ‘What’s this?’ said Scott, peering at the page Angus had torn from his exercise book.

  ‘It’s for everyone to sign,’ said Angus, ‘so Ms Lowry’ll see she’s been unfair.’

  Russell Hinch came over and took the page. ‘I never sign anything without reading it first,’ he said and started reading it out loud. ‘We the undersigned reckon that Angus Solomon should not be chucked out of the school play just because he missed two rehearsals due to unavoidable private reasons and we reckon that if he promises not to miss any more he should be back in the school play and if he isn’t we won’t be in it either.’

  ‘I’ll cross that last bit out if you don’t agree,’ said Angus.

  But he could tell from Russell’s face that Russell didn’t agree with any of it.

  ‘I’m not signing this,’ said Russell. ‘No way.’

  Angus wasn’t surprised. Russell Hinch wouldn’t fight for justice if his baby sister was in gaol for bashing up sumo wrestlers.

  Angus looked around at the other kids. ‘What about the rest of you?’ he said. ‘Scott?’

  He and Scott had been friends for ages. Scott would sign. And when Scott had, perhaps the others would.

  Scott glanced at Russell, then stared at the ground. ‘You dumped us,’ he mumbled. ‘We didn’t dump you.’

  ‘Dumped?’ said Angus, shocked and hurt. ‘What are you talking about? I haven’t dumped anyone.’

  ‘No?’ sneered Russell. ‘So where were you the last two afternoons?’

  A thousand thoughts flew through Angus’s head. Wild, crazy stories involving spies and submarines and newsagents. He knew they wouldn’t work.

  ‘Come on,’ pleaded Angus. ‘This isn’t fair.’

  ‘Yes it is,’ said Renee Stokes. ‘Doug Fawcett and Julie Cheng missed rehearsals and they’re out of the play too.’

  ‘At least you’ve got your girlfriend’s shoulder to cry on,’ smirked Russell, tearing up the petition.

  Angus didn’t cry until after Leo and Imogen were asleep.

  It took him ages to settle them down.

  ‘What about our Bumface story?’ asked Leo indignantly.


  ‘Not tonight,’ said Angus, hoping the tears wouldn’t start. Theirs or his. He read them a book instead, and finally they both fell asleep.

  Angus went into his room, closed the door, threw himself onto his bed and wept.

  After a long time, when there were no more tears, he listened anxiously, trying to hear if he’d woken Leo and Imogen. He’d tried to muffle the sound with his half-finished pirate costume, but Mum’s old bolero jacket wasn’t thick enough to absorb that much unhappiness.

  He crept into Leo’s room. Leo and Imogen were still asleep.

  Then, because he was weak from crying, Angus had the thought he’d tried so hard not to have all the way home and all the way through dinner and all the way through wiping the walls and all the way through bathtime.

  If it wasn’t for you, he thought, looking at Leo and Imogen’s sleeping faces, I’d still be in the play.

  As soon as he had the thought he squashed it.

  ‘I didn’t mean it,’ he whispered.

  He kissed them both and pulled a frantically kicking stick insect from Leo’s fist and flung it out the window with the thought.

  He turned back to the sleeping kids.

  They can’t help having hopeless dads and a busy mum, he thought. None of us can.

  He smoothed their sweaty hair off their foreheads and picked a bit of mashed potato and pumpkin off Imogen’s scalp.

  He couldn’t imagine being without them.

  He didn’t want to be without them.

  They’d only need him full-time for another sixteen or seventeen years and then the rest of his life would be his own.

  Angus sighed.

  It wasn’t that long really.

  All he had to desperately hope was that Mum didn’t have any more babies.

  Part Two

  8

  Angus tapped softly on Mum’s bedroom door and pushed it open. In the faint morning light coming through the curtains, Angus could see she was still asleep.

  He stepped forward to give her a gentle shake. He hated waking her, but it couldn’t be helped. She was under contract and Angus was pretty sure that if she wasn’t at the studio by eight she could be sued.

  Suddenly he froze.

  There was a man in the bed.

  At first Angus didn’t recognise him. Then he realised it was Number Four.

  Gee, thought Angus, he looks different with his hair matted and dried dribble on his chin.

  Another thought hit Angus and panic gripped him. Mum and Number Four were sleeping together. That could only mean one thing.

  Sex.

  Angus remembered what Number Three had said about Mum forgetting her pill.

  He felt faint.

  For a woman as busy as Mum, a woman who was always forgetting stuff, sex could easily mean another …

  ‘Wheeeee!’

  Imogen came tottering into the bedroom, shrieking happily. Before Angus could stop her, she clambered onto the bed and stuck her fingers up Number Four’s nose.

  ‘Urghhh,’ groaned Number Four. His eyes squinted open. Then widened in horror as he saw what Imogen was doing.

  Pouring his night-time glass of water down his tummy.

  ‘Arghhh,’ yelled Number Four as Imogen finished emptying the glass just before Angus grabbed it.

  ‘Bathy Gavin,’ chortled Imogen.

  Mum opened her eyes and peered at her bedside clock.

  ‘No,’ she groaned. ‘It’s too early for all this. I need sleep.’

  ‘Angus,’ came Leo’s excited yell from the hallway. ‘Look.’

  Leo staggered into the room carrying Geoffrey the mouse’s cage. He plonked it on the bed. Bits of soggy lettuce and mouse droppings fell onto Number Four.

  ‘Go away,’ moaned Number Four.

  ‘Look,’ yelled Leo. ‘Look what’s happened to Geoffrey.’

  Angus stared.

  Geoffrey was lying exhausted on the floor of the cage. Nestling up to Geoffrey were some of the smallest mice Angus had ever seen.

  ‘Geoffrey’s got babies,’ yelled Leo ecstatically.

  Everyone stared.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said Mum. ‘Geoffrey’s a girl.’ She gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Leo,’ she said, ‘that is the last time you get a pet from a kid at school.’

  Leo started to protest loudly, snatching the cage back and banging into the bedside table, which made the bedside lamp topple onto Number Four’s head.

  Number Four yelled. Leo burst into tears. Imogen shrieked with excitement.

  ‘Angus,’ said Mum, grabbing Imogen. ‘Help Gavin with the lamp and hand him a towel.’

  Angus hardly heard her.

  He was staring at the cage, mind racing.

  If a mouse called Geoffrey couldn’t help getting pregnant, a busy forgetful woman like Mum with a boyfriend she was in love with didn’t stand a chance.

  It was all right for Mum. If she got pregnant again, the TV writers would just write her big tummy into the script, like they had with Imogen. The week after Immie was born, Mum had got a new TV baby called Craig.

  Getting pregnant wasn’t a problem for Mum. Or for Number Four, who could nick off any time he liked.

  I’m the one, thought Angus miserably. I’m the one left holding the baby. I’m the one who’ll never have a life.

  ‘Angus,’ yelled Mum.

  While Angus handed Number Four a towel, he saw the way Number Four was scowling at Imogen and Leo and the baby mice.

  Another bloke who didn’t like kids or babies.

  If Mum gets pregnant, thought Angus miserably, Number Four’ll be out of here quicker than Number Three.

  Angus had a horrible vision of the future. Of Number Five and Number Six and Number Forty Seven and Number Three Hundred And Sixty Two. And a never-ending stream of babies filling up Angus’s whole life so that he’d still be changing nappies and wiping walls when he was ninety.

  ‘Mum?’ said Angus, trying to keep his voice steady.

  ‘What?’ said Mum, looking at him bleary-eyed.

  ‘While I think of it,’ said Angus. ‘Have you taken your pill?’

  9

  Please Mum, begged Angus silently, please have your mobile switched on this time.

  He picked up Dad’s phone and rang her number again.

  ‘This call,’ said the familiar recorded voice, ‘is to be diverted to another number.’

  Angus left yet another message. ‘Hi Mum, it’s me again. Just in case you didn’t get the other messages, don’t forget to take your pill.’

  He hung up and sighed. This was hard enough when Mum was at home. When she went away for a weekend it was a nightmare.

  Angus looked anxiously at Dad’s kitchen clock.

  Ten past twelve. Mum should be at Number Four’s beach house by now. She said she’d be there by lunchtime and she knows Leo and Imogen like their lunch early.

  Imogen made a choking noise and Angus went over and slapped her on the back. She coughed up a large lump of capsicum.

  ‘That’s not fair,’ said Leo, glowering across the kitchen table. ‘I didn’t get a lump of capsicum that big.’

  ‘Have this one,’ said Angus, giving him Imogen’s.

  ‘Yuk,’ said Leo.

  Then an awful thought hit Angus. A thought so awful it made him feel like he had a giant lump of capsicum stuck in his chest.

  What if Mum was already at the beach house, but the beach house was out of mobile range? What if she and Number Four were already doing sex? What if she hadn’t seen the reminder note he’d stuck inside the lid of her suitcase or the one in her toilet bag or the one pinned to her nightie?

  Angus raced back over to the phone.

  Dad’s girlfriend Kelly was there already. ‘Excuse me, Angus,’ she said, dialling. ‘I need to make a call.’

  Just my luck, thought Angus as he leapt across the kitchen and stopped Leo from poking his fork into a power socket. Trust Dad to have a girlfriend who’s always on the phone.

  Kelly finished
her call and hung up. The phone rang immediately.

  Angus prayed it was Mum calling to say she’d found his notes and heard all his messages and she’d taken her pill. Several in fact, just to be safe.

  Kelly’s voice changed and she started whispering dopey things into the phone. Obviously it was Dad.

  Angus ground his teeth. Come on, he thought. Mum could be getting pregnant while you two are being romantic.

  Kelly hung up. ‘Your dad’s been delayed at his creative writing class,’ she said, ‘so he’s asked me to drop you at Leo’s dad’s. We’ll have to leave right now.’

  ‘Can I ring Mum first?’ asked Angus desperately.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Kelly, ‘no time. I’ve got an aerobics class in twenty minutes.’

  Number Two was on the phone to his agent.

  ‘No,’ he was yelling. ‘I won’t. Impossible. Out of the question. No way.’

  Priscilla tapped him on the arm. ‘Dear,’ she whispered. ‘Angus and Leo and Imogen are here.’

  He ignored her.

  Angus sighed. Don’t just tell him we’re here, he thought, tell him I need to use the phone urgently.

  ‘No,’ yelled Number Two into the phone. ‘I won’t do it. I’ve got a major part in Phantom of the Opera and I will not play a pea in a frozen vegetable commercial. I want to be the carrot or nothing.’

  Please, Angus silently begged the agent. Let him be the carrot so I can ring Mum.

  ‘I won’t,’ yelled Number Two into the phone, his voice getting shrill. He threw his toast on the floor and stamped his foot. ‘I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!’

  He hung up and kicked his toast across the kitchen. Leo picked it up and took a bite.

  Number Two stared at him, startled, and then at Angus and Imogen.

  ‘Ah …’ he said, his voice going deep again. ‘You’re here. Good. There’s been a change of plan. I’ve got to go to the theatre to do an interview and Priscilla’s got to pick the boys up from clay modelling and take them to finger painting, so I’ll have to drop you three off.’

  ‘Can I ring Mum first,’ asked Angus desperately.