Noah Can't Even

by Simon James Green

  “Mum!”

  “Nobody burns their clothes apart from murderers and sex offenders,” she said, suddenly changing tack from outrage to suspicion. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered, wondering how she’d got so quickly and dangerously close to the truth. Was she actually psychic or something…?

  “Nothing, huh?” His mother nodded, sagely. “Well, that ‘nothing’ took you out of the house until gone midnight, so that’s a whole lot of ‘nothing’ to be occupying yourself with.”

  Noah glared at his mother. He had seen criminals burn their clothes on TV detective series, and he knew this was a good start for getting rid of his DNA. His mother, on the other hand, was a loose cannon. A selfish, lying loose cannon.

  Well, how dare she treat him like this? How dare she make his life hell when she had been keeping this MASSIVE, HUGE, UGLY SECRET from him?! Who the hell did she think she was? Oh, he knew who she was, all right! A TOTAL BITCH MOTHER FROM HELL!

  Well, it was time to play the ace card, time to drop the A-bomb.

  “I know about Dad,” he said.

  Noah’s mum stared back at him for a few moments, the bomb quietly whistling through the air, plummeting towards its destination and exploding in a mushroom cloud of utter devastation.

  “I suggest you come inside for a chat,” she said, turning and walking calmly back indoors.

  Noah furiously rewrapped himself in his dressing gown, prodded the bonfire one last time and followed her in. Damn it to hell, she was going to pay for her duplicity and she was going to do his bidding! He stomped through to the lounge, where she was sitting with uncharacteristic serenity on the sofa, dabbing a tissue at the corner of her eye – without an actual tear in sight.

  “So, you’ve found out, have you?” she said, glancing up at him with faux tragic eyes, “Well, I’m sorry, Noah. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say? I thought he was dead, Mum!” She was going to have to do a lot better than that. He wanted answers. He wanted reasons. He wanted to know why the hell he’d had such a godawful life for the last six years. The heartache. The misery. The terrible sadness, deep in his gut. Why?

  “I never said that. Assumed dead, that’s all.”

  “But he wasn’t assumed dead! You knew he was alive!”

  “OK, I’d had a few letters from someone purporting to be your father, but how was I to know it was really him writing? Could have been an impostor!”

  “An impostor who sends hundreds of pounds? That sort of impostor?”

  “Do you think I did it lightly?” she said, turning to him. “I know you think I’m selfish, but actually, I did it to protect you. He’s a no-good man, and if he were part of your life, he’d upset you. Worse, he’d destroy you. He uses people, then spits them out. And … I’m your mum. And believe it or not, I don’t want bad stuff to happen to you.”

  Noah snorted. “Bad stuff happens to me all the time! You’re not doing a very good job!”

  “Well, I do my best, but you never listen to my motherly advice. Smart-arse.”

  “I should have had the choice, though!”

  “You’re a kid. I was gonna tell you on your birthday anyway. Sixteen – old enough to make up your own mind.”

  Noah shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, yeah! Happy birthday! And … surprise! Your dad isn’t dead after all!”

  “Oh, go and meet him for all I care. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Mum! He sent us money! You said we were skint!”

  “We are skint, darling.”

  “So where’s all the money gone?”

  His mother paused and looked around wildly. “You know … the holidays we took in Scarborough.”

  “A static caravan in February doesn’t break the bank. Where’s the money gone?” he growled.

  His mother shifted uncomfortably. He knew he had got her. He was determined to make her admit it. Admit that she had selfishly taken the bulk of it and lavished it on herself and her opulent ways. He narrowed his eyes. “Where’s the money, Mother?”

  “It’s gone. Spent.”

  “I know that. But what on? I’ve not seen any of it!”

  “You’ve seen a bit of it! Costs a lot to bring up a kid … the rent … bills, clothes, food … school uniforms and trips… You’ve no idea how it all goes.”

  “But you’ve been earning money too! Not much, I’ll grant you, but some! And there’s the welfare state that you so merrily sponge off. So where’s it all gone?!” He stood there, glaring at her, breathing heavily.

  “Christ, Noah, why do you have to be so…”

  “Just say it, you old crone! Tell me!” he demanded.

  His mother sighed. “The thing is, Noah,” she finally said, “if it was just you and me, we would have seen more of the money.”

  “What?”

  “But it wasn’t just for you and me.”

  His fists unclenched and he looked at her, more confused than ever. “Then … who else?”

  “It was for your dad’s other kid. The one you don’t know about.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Noah stared at his mother as her flippantly delivered words hung in the air. “Now, I know this might be something of a shock—” she began.

  “Who’s the kid? Who is it?” he said.

  “Well, now, that I can’t say.”

  “I have a right to know!” he shrieked.

  “No, Noah, you don’t. We all made a pact, see. At the time. This town hasn’t changed in sixteen years – same back then as it is now. We all knew if this got out it would be the biggest scandal to hit Little Fobbing, ever. So we all agreed: we would never speak of it again. No one must know.”

  “The town hasn’t changed in sixteen years?”

  “’Sright.”

  “So this happened sixteen years ago, then?”

  “Well…”

  “SO THE KID’S IN MY YEAR AT SCHOOL?!” Noah screamed, utterly beside himself. What if it was Harry?! What if it was Sophie?! What if it was Jess?!

  “Oh God, I’ve already said too much!” his mother said, clearly flustered.

  “OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT!” People would find out! They would gossip and point…

  “Noah, you’re getting hysterical… Do you need your asthma pump? Just breathe … breathe!”

  “I don’t wanna breathe! I just wanna DIE! First you hide my father from me, then you date Mystery Man, even though you know Dad’s still alive! And by the way, I’m pretty damn sure I know who Mystery Man is and you should know he’s a notorious cad who’s always picking up unsuitable love interests in his stupid sports car, so I would cancel the relationship if I were you!” He nodded in an attempt to make the lie more convincing and took in the expression of surprise on her face. “I mean, all that considered, why should I trust another thing you say? What’s next? Have I got a twin? Is my cousin really my dad? Am I, in fact, the result of you being impregnated by some form of alien life, visiting Earth?” The latter would be no surprise whatsoever – and would actually explain quite a bit.

  She got up from the sofa, notably failing to deny any of the outlandish things Noah had just mentioned. “Have some milk…”

  “NO!”

  “Just…”

  “AAARRRRGGGHHH!” This whole mess could only end in tragedy and total embarrassment.

  “Noah—”

  He needed facts. He needed to know. He needed to prepare and then decide on a course of action to save his sorry arse. “WHO IS IT?”

  “No.”

  “WHO THE HELL IS IT?!”

  “Noah, it’s not that simple. Please. And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

  “Actually, you cantankerous hag, it does matter. It matters an awful BLOODY lot! You’re talking about a sibling I never knew existed! Family! Someone I could have shared the disappointment of our parents with for all these years! I mean, the kid’s in my year!” His mind reeled. “And what if I happen to share a moment
of passion with another kid in my year? Hmm? What if I accidentally share such a moment with my secret sibling? Would you have me commit incest now?”

  “A moment of passion?!” His mother grinned. “Passion, Noah? Is that what the kids are calling it these days – passion?”

  “WHAT IF I HAVE SEX WITH SOMEONE IN MY YEAR?!” he barked at her.

  “Well, Noah, that statement makes a lot of assumptions. First, that you are capable of sexual relations…”

  “My voice has BROKEN!” he squealed.

  “Second, that you would want to have sex with them – because they could be a boy or a girl, remember. Although I’ve always suspected you might be bi after you asked for tickets to Wicked for your twelfth birthday…”

  “That doesn’t make ANY sense, and anyway, I’m STRAIGHT!”

  “And thirdly, that the other person would want to have sex with you anyway, and I’m not being funny, but you hardly seem flooded with offers…”

  “WRONG, actually, pretty much had two offers in the last three days, but go on…”

  “And then it wouldn’t actually be full incest because they’re only your half-brother or sister, so it’s unlikely you’d go to prison as it’s no different than marrying your cousin, really, and if you did have kids with them there’s only a fifty per cent chance of a genetic disorder, so all’s well!” she chirped.

  “Oh, great. Brilliant!” he said, flinging his arms up at the crazy logic. “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into this. Just brilliant.”

  “Milk?” she said, edging towards the kitchen door.

  “Do they know who they are?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Like I said, we all agreed. Sweep it under the rug.”

  “Dirty little secret that it is.”

  She sighed and came back to sit on the sofa. “I told you your dad was no good. That’s exactly why I kept his existence away from you. Knew he’d only cause grief, and look! Mum’s right again! Hadn’t even been married two months when I found out he’d gone and shagged that other woman. It had to be kept quiet because…” She looked guiltily at Noah. “Well, for various reasons it would have been unfortunate if people knew the truth.”

  “What the hell does that mean?!” Noah squealed.

  “Doesn’t matter,” his mum said. “But eventually the pressure was too much for your father. He couldn’t take the heat and then finally he just disappeared and left us all to it, occasionally sending a bit of cash in the post. That’s your dad, Noah. That’s your brilliant dad.”

  “I hate you both more than anything in the world right now.”

  His words hung in the air for a moment. “Well, I don’t blame you. I hate me,” she muttered.

  And then she started crying.

  Noah was speechless. He’d never seen his mum cry before. She was hard as nails; he didn’t even think she was capable of genuine feeling. So what was this? And what was he supposed to do? Parents were not meant to cry. Kids cried. Parents made them feel better. That’s how it worked. Not this! What was this?! “Er, Mum? Er … look, there, there,” he said, gently tapping her arm. “Please … don’t cry…”

  “I’ve tried so hard, Noah,” she sobbed. “I’ve always done my best to keep our heads above water. Found the money for this and that – the French trip, or a new uniform. I know you’ve not had as much as other kids, but I gave you what I could. I wanted you to have nice stuff – would get you anything you wanted, if I had the money… It could have been so different… But it’s all his fault. Please, Noah.”

  Noah sighed. “So he sent you money, and you sent some of that to the secret kid’s mum?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, why? Why didn’t Dad just send it direct to her?”

  His mum looked down. “There are reasons. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It won’t help. Don’t dig it up. Trust me.”

  Noah shook his head. Trusting her was the last thing he’d ever do again. “Does Gran know about this?”

  “Oh, Noah, who knows? She’s got dementia. I’ve no idea what she knows, or thinks she knows, any more.”

  “But she did know?”

  His mum shrugged. “Well, I’ve never told her. Can’t speak for your dad.”

  He got up and walked to the door. “I’ll find out, Mum. I’ll find the clues, and I’ll work out the links and piece the whole thing together. You’ll see.”

  “It’s a can of worms you don’t wanna open. OK? You don’t.” There was something in the way she said it, something awful. Something dark and terrible and full of fear.

  But that would never have stopped Jessica Fletcher.

  And it wouldn’t stop him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  He sat on a little bench by the lockers with his rough book and a pen. It didn’t matter that his mother wouldn’t tell him who his half-sibling was. He was cleverer than her, far cleverer, and with some sharp detective work (and possibly a series of photos and clues stuck to his bedroom wall, linked with pieces of string to indicate various connections), he felt sure it was only a matter of time before he identified the culprit.

  Not that they were in fact a “culprit”. They were probably just as much a victim as him in all this. A poor kid, left to deal with the endless mistakes of the adults who were meant to be bringing them up.

  It had been established that the individual was in his year at school. That narrowed it down to just over a hundred people. Whilst it being any of them would be awkward and embarrassing, there were certain people that he definitely did not want it to be, and it was here he needed to spend his initial energies. He scribbled frantically, hoping a logical deduction might come out of his wild thoughts:

  1)SOPHIE. Sophie was the best girl he’d ever met. Maybe it could be love? Maybe not. But if she turned out to be his half-sister, these possible feelings would be DISTRESSING and WEIRD. Unfortunately, the fact that Sophie was mixed race didn’t rule her out as a sibling, as it was her mum who was black, not her dad.

  2)HARRY. His best friend. Noah had always felt close to Harry; they had a connection. But why was that? Was it because they were, in reality, half-brothers?! Was it because they actually shared some of the same DNA? This would also be WEIRD because Harry had already admitted to having feelings for Noah – feelings that would be considered INCESTUOUS feelings if things turned out for the worst. BUT it was hard to imagine that Harry’s mum, who was a member of the Women’s Institute and owned a pashmina, would be the type to cheat on her husband.

  3)JESS JACKSON. Nothing had happened between them, but she had shown him private areas of herself that he didn’t want to see, and attempted to initiate an act of sexual intercourse. If she turned out to be his half-sister, these feelings and actions would be CRIMINAL. He knew Jess had parents (plural), but he didn’t know enough detail to be sure she wasn’t originally the product of depravity some sixteen years earlier. He must prioritize research on her!

  “What’s this?” Eric said, whipping the book out of his hands.

  Noah sprang up, grappling for the book. “No! Eric! I—”

  Too late. Eric was already reading through it, and batting Noah away every time he tried to get it back. “Eric! Please!”

  “Number one, Sophie – love, love, love. Want to do sex. Incest, question mark. Sister, question mark. Number two, Harry – mate. Gay stuff, exclamation mark. Weird, question mark. Incest, question mark. And number three, Jess Jackson. Attempted sex. Little shorts.” Eric looked up. “Wow. You’ve got issues, haven’t you?”

  Noah swallowed hard, his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. “Give me it back,” he said.

  “Always good to know how folk get their kicks,” Eric said. “Reveals their innermost desires, and therefore their weaknesses.” He gave Noah a smug smile. “Where is it, then?”

  Oh no! The money! In all the drama of the previous night, Noah had completely forgotten about it. “Eric, I…”

  “You’d better have it
!”

  “I’ve got it, Eric. I have got it. I just haven’t got it with me,” Noah explained.

  “We had a deal!” Eric blurted out, a look of genuine panic in his eyes.

  “And I will honour that deal, Eric. I will! I’ll get you the money.”

  “How? When?”

  “Tomorrow?” Noah suggested.

  “Not good enough. Too late!” Eric loosened his tie as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

  “Well, when do you expect me to—?!”

  “After school. I come home with you. You give it me then. All of it.”

  Brilliant. One thing he didn’t need right now was people seeing him walking around town with Eric Smith, like they were mates.

  “Whatever.” Noah shrugged.

  “Yeah. Good. Don’t let me down.” Eric waved the rough book under Noah’s nose. “I keep this as insurance. You let me down, this gets photocopied and distributed round school. I’m sure everyone will love your little wank diary,” Eric grinned, walking off.

  Noah flopped back down on the bench and, totally in line with his usual luck, Jess Jackson came into view and was making a beeline for him. She would surely be furious after their tussle last night. Had she told the police about him? Was she about to present him with a bill for compensation?

  “Thanks for calling an ambulance,” she said, sitting down next to him.

  “Oh, you’re welcome.”

  “I was being sarcastic,” she said. “I was totally fine. My parents were livid, but don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything. Naughty boy.”

  “But I didn’t mean to push you, though!”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Noah gulped and snuck a look at her. “What … what do you mean? Naughty boy?”

  She smirked at him. “We had a good night, right?”

  “Right,” he agreed.

  “That’s all.” She shrugged. “You’re funny. I like you.”

  He squinted at her, trying to work it out. Was she saying she wanted to be mates? That they could hang out a bit? That he could be one of the cool gang?

  She must be after something. But what could he possibly offer her? “Have you done the French homework?” he asked.