The Funny Thing about Norman Foreman Julietta Henderson (short books for teens .TXT) 📖

on top. That big angry head was eyeballing us down the barrel, and even though James was still holding on to my jacket and pushing, my legs just stopped moving and he ran right into the back of me. I thought right there and then that the piggin’ jig was up and that Slim’s guys were going to come and put me and James both back in the tumble dryer and I was never going to see my mum again.

But just when I thought the guy’s eyes were about to pop right out of his giant head and fall into the frying pan he had in his hand, he swivelled around in the other direction and started yelling even louder at someone else. I didn’t get it all, but it was something about julienning someone’s bollocks and kicking their arse into a month of Sundays with his bare feet.

All of a sudden James yelled right into my ear, aye, boss, we’re on it! Then he pulled me over to a big silver bench full of trays with rows and rows of what looked like thousands of little birds’ nests filled with fruit and cream. He let go of me and whispered, quick, grab one, Norman. I didn’t think we really had time to be snacking, even though they did look pretty good, but just as I was about to reach for one I saw James picking up a whole tray and I realized that’s what he meant. Grab a whole tray, not just one. And all I could think was that those trays looked pretty heavy.

My hat had fallen down a bit over one of my eyes so I had to turn my head right around to see James, and he was just looking back down at me and waiting. He wasn’t asking if I could manage it or was it too much or was I OK to balance it or anything. Just, like, grab one, Norman. Waiting for me to pick up one of those huge trays, like it wasn’t the biggest and heaviest thing I’d actually ever lifted up in my life. Like I could do it. No question about it. Come on, you teeny tiny flucker! Just try. And like a perfect secret agent, I winked (I actually winked!) at him and nodded my head just enough so he could see it and then I grabbed one of those trays with both hands.

And you know what? James was right. Because nobody even looked at us when we walked right out into the middle of the gentlemen’s club and put our trays of birds’ nests down on a big long table in the corner with all the other food. Nobody looked at us when James got hold of my jacket again and steered me in and out of the rows of tables and chairs full of gentlemen losing their money and eating their dinner. Nobody even looked when we walked straight out another set of doors on the other side, past two cranky-looking guys with black suits and bow ties and then around a corner and up some stairs. Nobody. Any minute I expected to hear someone yelling at us to stop, or freeze or even oi, you, you’re just a kid and where do you think you’re going? But nobody took any notice of us at all. Can you believe it? I couldn’t.

When we got to the top of the stairs James stopped for a second then pointed down the hallway to a door at the very end. Come on lad let’s go, home stretch, he goes. So we went, but of course the door was locked because if you were a guy called Slim that ran a club that stole money off gentlemen and you tied up people and put them into tumble dryers, you’d probably have stuff in your office you didn’t want anyone to see, wouldn’t you?

It seemed like maybe it could be the end of our plan and I started thinking that all that dressing up in a disguise and being brave had ended up being for nothing. Until the thing that happened next. Which was that James looked at me, then he looked at the door, then he looked back at me, then he looked at the top of the door. Then I looked to see what he was looking at, which was a small glass window above the door. Which was half open. And then we looked at each other and James started smiling and even before he said anything I already knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the same. Then he goes, so, are ye game, Norman? Just like that, and ye instead of you in his Scottish accent. Isn’t that the coolest?

Well, after what we’d just done I felt like I was pretty much game for anything, so I tried out a bit of a Scottish accent myself and said aye James, piece of piss. I’m not sure if he noticed the accent but he goes, good man, and then straight away started counting one, two, three. I was still trying to get myself ready when he picked me up under the arms and sort of threw me into the air, but without letting go. I missed the ledge of the window thing but James just goes, nae bother, practice run, and was I ready to go again.

The second time I was ready all right, and when James lifted me up in the air I grabbed on to the ledge straight away with both my hands and held on tight. He was still holding on to my legs with both hands, but he squeezed my feet and shouty whispered, ye wee beauty, Norman! Gaun yersel’, lad!

I’ll tell you something funny. It seems like the more hard stuff you do, the easier it gets to be brave. Because I’m not even joking, it was like from the minute I walked out of the Soft Fudge on my