Doubting Thomas

by Morris Gleitzman

  It was just as bad in the hotel pool.

  Gerard got them all to have a happy family frolic in the shallow end.

  ‘Formidable,’ he yelled enthusiastically as he peered into the video screen on the camera.

  Thomas screwed up his eyes because of all the splashing. He screwed up his courage as well. The pillow fight had left his head feeling not good, so he daren’t wait any longer.

  He knew exactly what he was going to say.

  Gerard, I have something to confess. When I appeared on Liar Liar, my nipples gave me an unfair advantage and I cheated. If I promise never to do it again, will you be really kind and not tell the police?

  Thomas turned to Gerard and opened his mouth to speak.

  Before he could, Kevin opened his mouth and spoke first.

  ‘I think it’s a bit soon for me to be swimming after breakfast and a pillow fight,’ said Kevin, and threw up in the water.

  ‘Superbe,’ yelled Gerard as they all posed on the steps in front of Notre Dame cathedral.

  Do it now, Thomas said to himself. This is the last bit of filming. Speak up.

  But he felt so ill he wasn’t sure if he could.

  Holly was giving him worried looks. Kevin was making talking movements with his hands.

  Thomas tried to breathe more slowly, to quell the sickness and dizziness that were creeping back. His head had been aching all day. His nipples had been agitated since breakfast when Kevin told the waiter that muesli in Australia came with bits of kangaroo poo in it.

  ‘Thomas,’ yelled Gerard. ‘Look up. Be content. Be trés content.’

  Thomas looked up.

  High above him, a row of stone heads were grimacing down from the front of the cathedral. Gargoyles, a nearby tourist guide was calling them. Thomas couldn’t tell if they were human or animal, but their expressions were very miserable.

  That’s how I’ll probably look, he thought. As I’m being put into the police van.

  Then, as Thomas stared at them some more, the expression on the gargoyle faces made him think of something else.

  All the doubters through the centuries who hadn’t been cured.

  Poor kids, he thought. What chance did they have?

  He wished he could go back into history and save them all. Make their families tell the truth. But he couldn’t. There was only one doubter he could help now.

  Slowly Thomas made his way down the steps.

  ‘Thomas, this is not so superbe,’ said Gerard.

  Thomas chose a place where everybody could see and hear him. Gerard and the camera crew. Mum and Dad and Holly and Kevin. The tourists taking photos of the cathedral.

  ‘I lied,’ he said as loudly as he could.

  Mum and Dad were coming down the steps now, looking so concerned that Thomas hesitated.

  But only for a moment.

  ‘I didn’t win this trip fairly,’ said Thomas. ‘I used my itchy nipples.’

  He could see Holly and Kevin were looking pretty tense too.

  Gerard was looking confused.

  ‘Nipples?’ he said.

  ‘Nipples,’ said Thomas so loudly a group of tourists moved away in alarm. ‘I used them to win. I only pretended I was guessing. It was all lies.’

  ‘Of course it was all lies,’ said Gerard, smiling. ‘You’re the Liar Liar champion of Australia. Magnifique.’

  Thomas yelled at Gerard in exasperation.

  ‘I cheated.’

  Gerard stopped smiling.

  ‘Eh?’ he said.

  ‘Mum and Dad didn’t know anything about this,’ said Thomas. ‘Whatever severe legal punishment is going to happen, it should only happen to me.’

  ‘And me,’ said Holly.

  She stepped forward and stood next to Thomas.

  ‘No,’ he said, trying to nudge her away.

  ‘I knew Thomas was cheating,’ said Holly. ‘I could have stopped him, but I didn’t because he’s my friend and he was trying to save his life.’

  Thomas was stunned. Holly was trying to share his punishment.

  ‘No,’ he said again.

  She put her hand over his mouth.

  Kevin stepped forward and stood next to them both.

  ‘Cheating was my idea,’ he said. ‘I made Thomas do it. I was hoping he could get a trip to Paris to cure his rare historical disease. And win some jet skis with harpoons.’

  There was a long silence.

  Thomas watched Gerard, who didn’t look confused any more, pull out his mobile phone and dial.

  He knew Gerard was probably calling the police. He knew things probably wouldn’t be very pleasant from now on.

  But he didn’t care. His head was starting to feel better already. All of him was.

  As Mum and Dad each put an arm round him, Thomas looked up at the stone gargoyle faces again and sent a silent message to Vera Poulet.

  Thank you.

  ‘Don’t worry, son,’ said Dad. ‘Me and Mum won’t let the TV mob do anything to you.’

  ‘If they want to get legal,’ said Mum, ‘they can get legal with me and Dad. I know a lawyer with bushy eyebrows.’

  Thomas stared at Mum and Dad. For a brief moment he had a wonderful vision.

  Mum and Dad in an old people’s home, not letting anyone take their biscuits.

  Then Thomas realised that Gerard didn’t sound like a person talking to the police.

  ‘Tristan,’ Gerard was saying into his phone. ‘I’m ditching the Paris shoot. The kid’s got some sort of medical complaint. Possibly a mental condition. Is that Canadian prizewinner still in Venice with her family? Magnifique. I’ll fly down there and use them.’

  As Thomas nestled into Mum and Dad, he felt his head clearing and his weariness vanishing and the sickness slipping away and his nipples becoming calm and peaceful.

  He gave Holly and Kevin the best smile he’d given anyone for a long time.

  He was cured.

  23

  It was the best surprise picnic Thomas had ever been on.

  ‘More jam, anyone?’ said Mum.

  ‘Delicious, love,’ said Dad, sprawled out on his back and sighing contentedly up at the evening sky. ‘But no more scones for me, thanks. I’m going to have a lamington.’

  ‘Me too, please,’ said Holly, grinning.

  ‘And me,’ said Kevin. ‘I love lamingtons. I ate twenty-three at a birthday party once and threw up.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Mum to Kevin. ‘I think it might be just as well Thomas doesn’t get itchy nipples any more.’

  Kevin looked indignant.

  ‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘I did throw up. Ask Rocco Fusilli’s parents.’

  Thomas grinned.

  ‘I was there,’ he said.

  ‘If Thomas still got itchy nipples,’ said Alisha, ‘he’d have got them this afternoon when Theo arrived to collect me in that ute he reckons can do three hundred ks an hour.’

  They all laughed.

  Except Alisha.

  ‘Theo’s worse than Garth,’ she said crossly. ‘One day I’ll meet a boy who doesn’t make things up.’

  Thomas smiled fondly at his sister.

  She scowled back at him, then winked.

  Thomas felt good. His head was still clear and his nipples were still normal. Even the jet lag from the flight back wasn’t worrying him, or the roar of the trucks over in the Koala Reserve Industrial Estate.

  ‘OK, everyone,’ said Dad, sitting up. ‘Tomorrow me and Mum will be out looking for new jobs, so before we get too busy, I want to propose a toast.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ said Mum.

  Dad cleared his throat and topped up his tea.

  ‘Thomas gave us more than a trip to Paris,’ said Dad. ‘He gave us more than a new car or a pair of jet skis. He gave us so much I can’t put it all into words.’

  Dad paused and raised his cup and looked at Thomas for a long time.

  ‘Let me put it this way,’ he said finally. ‘We’re a family again.’

  Mum gave Thoma
s a grateful smile, and her eyes were almost as glowing as Holly’s.

  Holly, Kevin and Alisha applauded.

  Thomas felt his nipples starting to itch, but it was only ordinary old embarrassment.

  Oops, he thought, time to change the subject.

  ‘Look at that beautiful sunset,’ he said.

  They all gazed at it.

  It was one of the best things Thomas had seen in his life. In front of them the municipal gardens tumbled down a steep slope to the base of the squash courts, above which the tower, the local mobile-phone one, soared into the pink and orange smog-streaked sky.

  ‘That is so gorgeous,’ sighed Mum, and put her arms round Dad.

  Thomas saw Holly and Kevin grinning at him and he knew they were thinking the same as him.

  Better than Paris.

  Thomas nodded and grinned back.

  He gazed up at the very tip of the tower, where a distant but bright mobile-phone advertising sign was slowly flashing on and off.

  It was nothing compared to what Thomas could feel glowing inside him.

  The happiest feeling he’d ever had.

  It made every part of his body tingle except his nipples.

  True.

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  About the Author

  Morris Gleitzman grew up in England and came to Australia when he was sixteen. He was a frozen-chicken thawer, sugar-mill rolling-stock unhooker, fashion-industry trainee, student, department-store Santa, TV producer, newspaper columnist and screenwriter. Then he had a wonderful experience. He wrote a novel for young people. Now he’s one of Australia’s most popular children’s authors. Doubting Thomas is his twenty-fifth book.

  Visit Morris at his website:

  www.morrisgleitzman.com