Work Text:
Five
‘Happy birthday, baby.’ Claire smiled at the camera, fingers running through the soft white fur of the teddy bear she held. She looked down at him - the big grey heart he held, the name ‘Vincent’ embroidered on it in blue. Five years. Five whole years since she’d bought the bear and he’d never held it.
‘You’re five. Such a big boy already.’ God, the tears were already threatening. She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled shakily at the camera.
‘I wonder what presents you would’ve asked for. I wonder if you’d like football like your big brother, or reading like your Daddy. We didn’t know what to get you.’ Here she broke off, looking up at the ceiling and trying to hold back the tears. She breathed deeply and tried to squash down the hurricane inside of her.
‘So we just got a few small things. A personalised Winnie the Pooh book, who doesn’t like Winnie the Pooh? I’ll read it to you later, we’ll wait for Daddy, yeah? He’ll be home soon. We got you a few toys. Some colouring pencils, your own little set. I wish you were here to open them.’
She gazed down at the teddy bear. Five years. It seemed like they’d gone by in an instant, but also dragged along at a snail’s pace. She wondered where he was now. She wondered what he looked like. Did he have her crystal blue eyes or his Dad’s murky green ones? She wondered what he was like - hyper or calm, loud or quiet? Did he like sitting still and playing, or running around energetically? It killed her that she didn’t know. It killed her that she didn’t know who had him, and if they were taking care of him. Anything could be happening to him. She tried unsuccessfully not to dwell on that thought. It had caused too many sleepless nights.
Claire looked around Vincent’s room and tried not to let the anger overtake her. It was difficult. All it had taken was one mistake - one stupid nurse not paying attention, misplacing her baby and she’d lost five years of his life. All for one stupid mistake - how do you lose a baby?! He’d still had his name band on, for goodness’ sake! And now anyone could have him. It was ridiculous that they hadn’t found a single trace of him yet, but she refused to give up. She’d look forever if she had to. She pushed her face into the bear and breathed deeply. She wished it smelt like him.
‘I wish…’
She sighed heavily.
‘I wish.’
She sat quietly for a while, gazing at the sky blue, cloud patterned wallpaper. The cuddly toys atop the wardrobe, still filled with brand new baby clothes. Claire sighed heavily.
‘I hope you’re okay, baby. I don’t know where you are but I hope you’re with someone kind, who treats you well. I hope you’re happy.’
She wanted to say more - the feelings were bubbling up inside, threatening to overwhelm her, but there just weren’t any words. What could she possibly say?
She hugged the teddy to her chest and tried to smile at the camera.
‘I love you.’
She switched it off, and went to find some candles for Vincent’s cake. He wouldn’t get to blow them out this year, but she was holding out hope for next year. Six whole years without her baby was just inconceivable.
——————————
The playground at this ‘school’ was big and grey, with only a small section of wooded area at one end. He’d already been told he wouldn’t be allowed to climb these trees. He missed climbing trees. It was also noisy . The jungle and the house he’d been living in since he’d left had been relatively peaceful most of the time, but when there had been lots of noise it hadn’t been like this. This was like nothing he’d ever heard before. He didn’t realise talking could be so loud, but that might be bearable if it wasn’t for the shrieking.
Vince clapped his hands over his ears and stared in horror. There were so many children, all running and laughing and screaming . He’d never seen another child before a few months ago - not a human one, anyway - and he hadn’t known they were capable of producing this level of noise.
He looked around at the children in their little groups and thought back to what his new teacher had said that morning.
‘Well, Vince, I know it’s very scary being new but I have a feeling you’ll fit in just fine.’
Vince wasn’t so sure about that. He’d already missed just over a year of school since Bryan hadn’t brought him back to the World of Man in time, so all the other children had already found their tribes.
He had no problem with strangers - he loved meeting new people - but he couldn’t help but think he’d end up being left out and lonely. After all, human grown ups thought he was weird, so why wouldn’t the children?
Looking around, Vince finally spotted one child on their own - Howard. He was new too, he’d moved from Leeds. Vince didn’t know where that was, but apparently it was far away. Howard sat at the same table as Vince in the classroom. He wore a neat uniform tie even though they didn’t have to wear ties in primary, and Vince had never seen him talk. Granted they’d only started school a few hours ago, but Howard was clearly smart - he wrote down all the sums correctly first time, his handwriting was neater than anyone else’s at his table and his spelling was perfect. Apparently. Vince wouldn’t know - he hadn’t started learning to read or write yet, even though everyone in his class could write messy sentences. His teacher had been surprised, but Vince hadn’t even known what reading was until she’d asked him what books he liked. He’d seen books at his foster home but he’d never touched one, and in the short time that he’d been out of the jungle, no-one had asked him about these letters and numbers. So it wasn’t his fault, but the other kids had laughed anyway. Except Howard. He’d looked at him curiously, but he hadn’t laughed.
So Howard seemed alright but he didn’t talk to anyone. So Vince would talk to him. He gingerly removed his hands from his ears and strode over to the bench where Howard was sitting, gazing at his feet as he swung his legs gently.
‘Hi!’
Howard looked up, surprise written all over his face.
‘Um… hi?’
‘You’re Howard, right? I’m Vince! Do you want some of my strawberries?’ He held out the little tupperware of chopped strawberries hopefully. Howard eyed them suspiciously, but with another look at Vince’s earnest face he decided it was probably safe, and took a few slices.
‘Thanks.’
Vince dropped onto the bench next to him. Howard looked away, a little unsettled by the seemingly-permanent beam on the smaller child’s lips.
‘So where’s Leeds?’
Howard looked suspicious of this entire interaction, but he answered hesitantly. ‘Er, up north.’
Vince nodded seriously, as if he had any idea where ‘up north’ was. Jahooli had tried to teach him north, south, east and west, but he always got mixed up.
‘Cool. I’m from the jungle.’
Howard’s suspicious look intensified.
‘Which jungle?’
Vince blinked.
‘Um. You know. The one with the trees.’
‘There aren’t any jungles in England, do you mean a forest?’
‘Oh, no, it wasn’t in England. I had to come here on an aeroplane. But I don’t know where, Bryan never told me. I’ll ask when he comes to see me.’
Howard chewed on his strawberries, looking thoughtful. ‘Do you miss it?’
‘Yeah! There aren’t nearly as many animals here and I get told off for climbing trees - I mean, what else are they for? And I have to go inside whenever the adults tell me to and do work and it’s well boring. I can’t run around whenever I want or go swimming on my own or sleep outside or play in the rain without all this crinkly rain armour or - ‘
‘Come with me.’ Howard cut in. He didn’t usually like interrupting people, but he had a feeling this kid could talk for hours and break time was only fifteen minutes. Vince stood and followed him without question, still rambling on as Howard led him towards the doors. He clamped a hand over Vince’s mouth.
‘Shh. We’re not allowed inside at break, so you have to be quiet, okay?’ Vince nodded seriously, and Howard removed his hand.
‘Why aren’t we - mmph!’
‘Quiet!’ Howard hissed. They didn’t have to wait for an opportunity - the teacher at the doors was already preoccupied with a crying child with a grazed knee, so they were easily able to slip past her and into the school. Howard led Vince to a set of double doors, then stopped. ‘We’re not really supposed to go here, it’s the junior staircase. But I came through here this morning to see the headteacher and I think you might like it.’ He opened the doors to reveal the staircase.
Vince stopped and stared at the walls, a grin slowly forming on his face. The walls around the stairs were painted mostly green - with leaves . There were monkeys hanging upside down and cheetahs prowling along the bottom of the walls, with the green stairs taking you up into the trees. Vince bounced a little where he stood. Obviously it wasn’t as good as the actual jungle, but it was the closest thing he’d seen since he moved to London.
‘ Wow !’ He whispered. He ran a hand along a cheetah’s back. ‘It’s so pretty! It looks just like home!’ He turned to Howard, who looked incredibly pleased with himself. ‘Thanks, Howard!’
‘No problem.’ He glanced at his watch and frowned. ‘We do have to go though, break’s almost over. We can come again another time,’ he quickly added, seeing Vince deflate, ‘but we have to go before someone sees us.’
Vince gazed mournfully at the paintings until they were through the double doors, and they managed to sneak back outside just in time for the bell to ring.
‘Thanks, Howard, that was genius. Let’s go back at lunchtime!’
‘Well… I don’t want to get into trouble…’ Howard twisted his tie through his fingers nervously.
‘Oh please! I’m really good at sneaking, the leopards and cheetahs taught me! We won’t get caught, promise!’
‘Alright… but I bet you’re not that good at sneaking.’
‘I am!’
‘I don’t think so, I think that’s something only animals can do. Biologically.’
Vince didn’t know what biologically meant, but he knew he was well good at sneaking. And when, at break time a few weeks later, he was too distracted demonstrating the mating call of the Hornbill to notice a teacher coming, Howard most definitely did not say ‘I told you so’.
——————————
Seven
Howard almost didn’t notice when Vince dropped onto the bench next to him, only looking up when a shadow fell across the encyclopaedia he was pretending to be interested in. This was odd, as Vince’s arrival was not something one could usually miss - he tended to start talking a mile-a-minute before Howard had a chance to blink. Today, however, he was silent. Howard waited a few seconds, but his usually bubbly friend just stared blankly at Howard’s book. That was odd, too - Vince never looked at books unless he had to, claiming that the letters dancing around gave him a headache. Howard cleared his throat.
‘Everything okay?’
Vince nodded, a small smile gracing his lips for barely a second.
‘How’s Bryan?’ Howard asked. He remembered how on Friday Vince had been unable to contain his excitement about seeing Bryan over the weekend. He’d been even more of a little ball of energy than usual, constantly bouncing on his toes and drumming his fingers as he’d stared at the clock. Surely this would cheer him up?
But Vince’s face morphed into a scowl.
‘Wouldn’t know. I didn’t see him.’
‘What? Did something happen?’
Vince picked at the chipped purple paint on his nails, not looking up as he spoke.
‘Probably just came to his senses. No-one else wants me, why should he?’ He was quiet for a moment, then looked up at Howard, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. ‘Is something wrong with me, Howard?’
‘What? No, of course not. If he doesn’t want you that’s ‘cause he’s an idiot, it’s nothing to do with you. But, er, he probably just couldn’t make it - it’s a long way from the jungle, maybe there was traffic-’
‘It’s okay, Howard,’ Vince sniffed, ‘you don’t have to make excuses for him. If he couldn’t come he would have phoned.’
‘Do they have phones in the jungle?’ Howard wondered, more to himself than to Vince, who didn’t seem to hear him anyway.
‘And there’s loads of things wrong with me, so it makes sense. That’s why he sent me away in the first place, and why no-one else has kept me for very long. Apart from you, but you’re a bit weird too. In a good way!’ He hurried to add, not wanting to insult the only person who seemed to like him. Ignoring the insult - he’d been called worse, after all, and he supposed he was a bit weird - Howard tried to soothe Vince’s worries.
‘There’s nothing wrong with you, Vince, you’re great! And my parents love you and they’re not weird.’
Vince privately thought that Howard’s parents were a bit weird, in a Howard-y way - they liked jazz and brown and were very sensible. He loved them a lot, though. It would be well cool if they could be his parents, but his social worker said he didn’t get to choose. And there was no way they’d choose to look after him - although they were always very nice to him, he had a feeling he was a little much for them. After all, if the seven families he’d stayed with in the last two years couldn’t handle him, who could? He was beginning to think he'd never have a proper home.
‘There’s everything wrong with me, Howard. I can’t even read.’
‘You can, you read a whole book the other day. All by yourself!’
Vince sent Howard a withering glare. ‘I read The Very Hungry Caterpillar . You were reading that before you’d even started school.’
‘You can’t judge all your achievements by my standards, Vince, I’m a bit of a prodigy. Anyway, everyone’s different. And it’s not your fault you weren’t reading then - how can you read if no-one’s bothered to teach you?’
‘But they’ve taught me now! And I’m still stupid!’
‘Well, it’s not your fault the letters dance around.’
‘They don’t dance for anyone else so that must be ‘cause I’m too stupid to even see them prop’ly.’
Howard didn’t know how to argue with this. He didn’t think Vince was stupid by any means, and he didn’t know why Bryan never showed up, so he didn’t know what to say to cheer Vince up. So for now all he could do was pull his secret stash of strawberry bootlaces from his pocket and hand a few to Vince. It wouldn’t fix anything, but it always got him a little smile.
——————————
Eleven
Terry sat on the bed his son had never slept in, smoothing out the covers a little. He sighed deeply, looking around the room. He gazed at the wallpaper, still sky-blue. Hé wondered how Vincent would have decorated. He wondered how many of these toys and books he’d still have. What this room should look like. But with absolutely no idea of his personality, it was difficult to make a guess. And it hurt even more the longer he tried. His eyes burned. He took a moment to compose himself before he could focus back on the camera. He’d been telling Vincent about his siblings when it had all hit him all over again.
He fiddled with the tassels on a blanket that laid haphazardly over the duvet. He had a sneaking suspicion one of his kids had been in here recently - he and Claire always left the bed neatly made, ready to be slept in at the drop of a hat. The kids, however, always left it a little messy. He thought they probably liked it to look lived-in.
Terry looked up at the red light blinking at him and sighed. He seemed to do a lot of sighing in this room.
‘I can’t believe it’s been so long. Every birthday I think ‘this time next year. This time next year, he’ll be with us,’ and it’s never true. I’m not gonna stop hoping, but, kid… it’s been eleven years, Vincent. More than halfway through your childhood. It’s getting harder and harder to picture you being here. Not that it was ever easy, but… God, I wish we could meet you. I bet you’re the most amazing kid.
‘I’ll never forget the day Mum told me you were on your way.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘I was so excited. And so scared. But, Vincey, I felt like my heart might burst. I couldn’t wait to hold you, to sing to you, to run around after you trying to get you in the bath. I loved you from the very second Mum told me. And I love you now. There’s so much we never got to do together… all the little things, like stopping you from running into the road, getting into beef with the other dads when you fall out with your friends, helping you with your homework… all the tiny, boring moments that I’ve never been able to take for granted with the others because I knew I was missing them with you… It’s not fair.
And I know it might be worse for you. I think that’s what hurts the most. Here, we’re all together. Almost. But you could be all alone, thinking we don’t care. Or you could be oblivious to our existence. Maybe you’re with some other family and you have no idea you’re not really theirs. I think, if I knew, that’d be better. At least then I’d know, but all this wondering is making me ill. I hope you’re happy, whatever that entails. I think, as long as you’re happy… yeah. As long as you’re happy.
But I don’t want you to worry, if you’re thinking we don’t want you or whatever it might be. We’re going to find you, Vincent. I promise, kid. We’ll never stop looking.’
——————————
Vince slammed the phone down and stormed up to his room, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t feel scared about getting into trouble, as he’d been left alone all day - it was late in the evening and he was still the only one in the house. Normally this would suit him just fine - he could do whatever he wanted, and sure, his current foster parents shouted at him every time they saw him, but since they were out all day almost everyday that wasn’t too much of an issue. What was an issue was that they mostly lived off takeaways, so the kitchen was generally empty. And Vince was hungry. He’d been here a month and he’d spent most of it hungry. But for some reason his stupid social worker refused to move him somewhere else. So he was just going to have to get creative.
He rifled through his wardrobe and grabbed his fluffy coat, slipping it on and turning to admire himself in the mirror. His outfit wasn’t great - the only shoes he had were a couple of pairs of sparkly trainers (he’d customised them himself) and a pair of ugly boots. But he’d seen the most genius pair of heeled boots in the window of Topshop that would go fantastically with this coat. He couldn’t wait ‘till he was all grown up and he could afford to buy them. He’d get them in at least three different colours and he’d have a whole wardrobe of jackets to choose from. He was going to have the best wardrobe in all of London and everyone would be so jealous. It was going to be genius.
For now, though, Vince had to make do with his ratty old trainers that left a trail of glitter everywhere he went. He’d only had access to PVA glue, okay? He wasn’t a miracle worker.
The window slid up easily, the cold air sharp on Vince’s face. He clambered onto the windowsill and sat with his feet dangling over the edge. Stretching his legs out, he kicked his feet until he found the corner of the conservatory roof, wet with rain and sprinkled with leaves. He had to be careful here; he’d almost slipped last time. But with slow, careful movements he managed to get a good purchase and was able to launch himself onto the roof, from which he jumped into the garden and could slip through the gate, around to the front of the house and set off down the road.
He sang his favourite Human League songs under his breath as he bounced along, jumping in a few of the puddles he came across. Before he knew it, he had reached the Tesco round the back of the high street. It wasn’t very busy; a few older people and a harried looking mother with a young child were all he saw as he looked down the aisles. He looked around, wondering what he should get. He only had limited space in his coat, and he wanted sweets but he was also so tired of being hungry.
As soon as Vince turned into the bread aisle, he stopped. Oh shit . At the other end of the aisle was Howard. Now usually, seeing Howard was the best part of Vince’s day. On this day, however, he was accompanied by his mother in the same shop Vince was attempting to shoplift from. For once in his life, Vince was decidedly not pleased to see Howard.
Turning on his heel, Vince marched towards the exit. He’d just have to go hungry, he could try again tomorrow before school.
‘Vince!’
Oh, good. Howard’s Dad.
Vince spun slowly to greet him.
‘Alright!’
‘Good to see you, Vince. How are you, son?’
Son. Ouch .
‘Good, good, I’ve gotta get going actually - ‘
‘Don’t be silly, Howard’s over by the bread, come and say hi! You haven’t come round for a couple of weeks, is everything okay?’
‘Oh, yeah, just my new foster parents are weird about me going out.’
And wasn’t that an understatement? They liked to lock him in his room for days on end. They definitely weren’t the best foster parents he’d ever had.
As they approached Howard and his mum, Vince tried his best to lock up all the bad feelings and project the sunny ones as much as he could. Some days this was harder than others, but he usually managed okay.
‘Hey, Howard! Hey, Howard’s Mum!’
‘Hi sweetheart. I’ve got a name, you know.’
Vince knew lots of parents didn’t like being referred to as ‘X’s Mum’ - he’d heard Alex from school’s mum complaining about it, but that was understandable since she’d raised Alex. Howard’s mum and dad had raised Howard - Vince thought they should be pretty proud of that.
He trotted over to Howard and rested his head on his shoulder, hugging his arm. Howard could be weird about touching sometimes, so he didn’t usually go in for a proper cuddle unless he was upset - and it took a lot to get him upset, used as he was to situations like these. But Howard was usually good about letting him hang onto him for a short while if they hadn’t seen each other for a while. And with it being the end of the summer holidays, and Vince’s foster mum being how she was, it had been a good few weeks since he’d gotten a proper dose of Howard and he was allowed to snuggle close for several precious seconds.
‘We’re just heading to the checkout, love, but we’ll come round with you first.’
‘Oh, no, that’s okay, I forgot money so I’m just going straight back to the house.’
‘Oh, what do you need?’
‘Uh…’ Vince looked to his left. Bread. ‘Bread. Guess I’ll have to come back before school.’
‘Don’t be silly, we’ll get it.’ Howard’s dad said, as his mum grabbed another loaf.
‘Oh, you don’t have to! I can come back, I don’t mind!’
‘No sense in you making another trip when we’re here now. Come on then, we’ll give you a lift back.’
She started towards the checkout just as Howard wriggled uncomfortably and pulled gently away from Vince’s clinging arms.
‘Are we meeting somewhere different before school then? If you’ve moved house and all? I heard you say you’ve got new foster parents.’ He paused. ‘You are still going to our school?’
‘Yeah, I haven’t moved that far.’ Howard’s face smoothed out, worry lines disappearing. ‘We could meet by the duck park!’ Vince bounced on his toes at the idea - he didn’t get to interact with animals a whole lot since he left the jungle, so any opportunity was one he’d snatch up.
‘You know we won’t have time to actually feed them?’
‘Ohhh, yeah we will! I’ll get there early, and you get up in the middle of the night anyway!’
Howard frowned and reached out to pull Vince away from the shelf he’d hung on onto as they walked, lest he knock ten bottles of ketchup over himself. They didn’t need that tantrum today.
‘I get up at six, Vince. That’s a perfectly respectable time. And better than one in the afternoon. You’re practically nocturnal.’
‘Like an owl.’ Vince turned to Howard and made his eyes even bigger than normal. Howard pulled him to the left so he wouldn’t crash into the checkout. Once they’d paid, Vince followed them to the car.
‘Thanks, Howard’s parents.’ He threw on his most charming smile as he took the proffered loaf of bread. He hadn’t wanted to push his luck by asking for anything else, so dry bread it would have to be for the next couple of days. Oh, well. He’d had worse.
——————————
Fourteen
‘Hi sweetie! Oh, we can’t wait to take you home, are you excited? You are? Come on then, we’ve brought suitcases for you to pack your things in, and you can use them again when we go on holiday…’
The little blonde kid smiled like Christmas had come early when he saw the suitcase, his eyes sparkling. Vince watched the scene with an ugly feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t fair. This kid was six. Vince had been five when he’d entered the system - why hadn’t anyone adopted him? And he’d been much more likeable than that little ballbag. Okay, so he’d been a little feral - still was, a bit, but so what? Once Howard had taught him more human ways of doing things - and how ironic was that, that he’d needed Howard’s teachings to stop him scaring people away, but Howard couldn’t get anyone other than Vince to like him? - he’d become pretty popular. So where were his new parents?
And that was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t have new parents, he didn’t have his original parents and none of his foster parents kept him for longer than a year, at most. The same went for friends - everyone was happy to hang out with him at lunchtime, but no-one wanted him round for dinner, or to go to the park on Saturdays. The only long-term friend he’d ever had was Howard, and that could probably be explained by the fact that Howard seemed to naturally repel people, but Vince’s greatest skill was clinging to him like a limpet. Maybe he just couldn’t find any other friends, so he stuck with Vince as a last resort. And sure, Howard’s parents seemed to like Vince, but how much of that was just humouring him for Howard’s sake? And if all that was true, which it probably was, how long until he lost them too? How long until he was truly alone?
——————————
Sixteen
The wind blew gently, ruffling Vince’s hair. He brushed a blonde lock out of his eyes and tried to ignore the ache in his lower back. He took a deep breath in, one arm wrapped around his middle, and tuned back into Howard’s ramble. Hopefully that would take his mind off the pain until school started.
‘... of course she did recognise my talent, there just weren’t any spaces left. A shame, really, they were all disappointed I didn’t make the club-’
‘No they weren’t!’ Vince interjected, leaning against the wall - the bricks were uncomfortable against his sore back but he knew if he leant forwards it would be worse. He let his head fall back and his leg hang over the wall he was sat on outside school. Breathe .
‘Yes, they were. I’m very popular, my time is sought after by everyone in a ten mile radius.’
‘Why’re you always hanging around with me then?’
‘Well, someone’s got to look after you, haven’t they? What would you do on your own, eh? I tell you, it wasn’t like this in Leeds, I was swarming with friends.’
‘Oh right, I’m cramping your style, am I?’
‘That’s exactly it, sir.’
‘You didn’t have any friends here before I made you talk to me, did you?’
‘Well, they just weren’t prepared for me. They thought I talked funny.’
‘You do talk funny!’
‘I do not. My accent is very dignified.’
‘You talk like half the letters are in italics, what’s that about?’ Vince grinned, shifting against the wall. Suddenly a sharp ache flared in his stomach, and he groaned, falling forwards with his arms tight around his middle.
‘Vince?’
Vince breathed harshly through his teeth and willed the pain away.
‘Vince? Are you okay, little man?’
He managed a nod, though he felt like he was dying. Slowly, the pain started to recede and after what felt like an age, Vince was able to move enough to lean heavily against the wall, head back as he panted through it.
‘What happened?’
‘Tummy ache.’
Howard frowned. ‘You’ve had a stomach ache for two days now, are you sure that’s all it is? You could barely walk yesterday.’
Vince nodded.
‘Are you sure? You know, it could be your appendix. Maybe we should go to the doctor’s.’
‘No! I mean -‘ he rushed to smooth out Howard’s surprised look at his shout - ‘No, it’s okay, it’s just a normal tummy ache.’
‘How do you know?’
Vince winced. He really wanted to shift his weight a little but he didn’t want to show how much it hurt.
‘Look, I know you don’t like the doctor’s, little man, but it’s better to get it sorted out. If it ruptures you could die, you know. And I’ll go with you, it’ll be okay, I promise.’
‘It’s not my appendix, Howard, just leave it okay?!’
Howard shut his mouth and tried not to look hurt. He knew Vince didn’t mean it, he just lashed out when he was scared or angry - a trait he’d picked up in the jungle and never been able to drop - but it still stung when he snapped at him. And Vince could be really mean when he was properly cornered, so Howard didn’t want to push. On the other hand, his appendix really could rupture and kill him, and Howard didn’t want to lose Vince. He didn’t think he’d ever find another friend again, for one. Maybe he should wait for him to calm down a little, then try again.
‘Alright… shall we go, then? Bell’s about to ring.’
Vince winced. He slowly pushed himself upright, braced his arms against the wall he was sat on and slid off. He stood still for a second, blinking back tears. God, it hurt so badly. There was no way he’d be able to get through P.E.
‘Vince?’
Vince breathed harshly and didn’t answer.
‘Vince? Did… did someone hurt you?’
Vince looked up and froze. Howard met his wide-eyed gaze, heart dropping into his stomach at the shock and fear in his shiny eyes.
‘Vince, you’re all bruised, little man. That looks really bad.’
Vince glanced down and saw the purpling bruises over his stomach where his tiny t-shirt had ridden up. Shit.
‘Was it Karen?’
Vince flinched, and Howard’s stomach sank. How was he supposed to protect Vince from his foster carers?
‘No! No-one hurt me. I just fell, and now I’ve got a tummy ache.’
‘Vince…’
‘No-one hurt me.’
Howard sighed. ‘Well, if they did… we could tell your social worker and she’ll find you somewhere new. Hypothetically, of course.’
Vince gazed down at his ratty trainers. As if. Even if he did get moved, who said it would be to somewhere better? He could end up with stronger people, or people who used whips, or even worse… Vince shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about some of the things that could happen. He’d heard stories.
‘‘Cause she was in such a rush to move me from all the others?’
Howard frowned. That was true, but surely physical abuse was different? They had to pay attention to that, right?
‘They’ll probably move me soon anyway, I’ve been here nearly a year. And I’ve only got two left before I age out, and then I’ll be fine. Stop worrying, Howard, it’s not a good look on you.’ He reached out to smooth out the lines on Howard’s forehead, but quickly pulled away with a sharp hiss.
Howard reached out and slipped an arm around Vince’s waist just as the bell rang. He looked up, frown lines still firmly in place, and chewed nervously on his lips.
‘Look, you’re clearly in too much pain for school. Maybe we should go to mine? I’ve got paracetamol, or Mum’s got stronger stuff if that doesn’t work. We can have snacks and watch Colobus? There’s a marathon today.’
Vince stared. Every time he thought he couldn’t like Howard any more, he went and started caring about Vince. It was exhausting.
‘You wanna skip school? You ?’
‘Well, you’re hurt. And you can get notes from someone, right?’
Vince grinned.
‘You wanna skip for me ?’
‘Alright, don’t rub it in. Are we going or what?’
Vince rested his arm around Howard’s broad shoulders, a little thrill running through him at the lack of objection. Howard tightened his arm and they slowly made their way towards the crossing.
——
CRASH
Vince startled awake, jolting up and nearly falling off the sofa, his stomach protesting the movement with a sharp stab of pain, though thankfully dulled from the painkillers. He looked around blearily for a moment, gaze finally focusing on Howard’s mum, standing in front of the sofa with a pair of cymbals in her hands. Vince squinted. He hadn’t known the Moons owned cymbals. He rubbed his eyes and fell back, landing against Howard’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and let his head fall on top of Howard’s.
'As cute as this is, boys, it’s gone ten and you should be at school.’
Oops. It was rare that Mrs Moon sounded that stern. Vince sat up a little, deciding he should probably try to make a good impression.
‘Sorry, Howard’s mum. I didn’t feel very good.’ He stole a glance at Howard, who was looking shiftily at the rug. Howard hated getting into trouble.
‘And what about you?’ She asked Howard, who gulped.
‘Er… I didn’t feel good either.’
‘Right. And you thought, instead of letting me know so I could call the school, you’d let them call me and have me worried that you’d been kidnapped?’
‘Oh, we wouldn’t have been kidnapped, Howard’s mum. Howard had that wing chun lesson, remember?’
Mrs Moon looked at him sternly, and Howard’s foot connected with his. Vince shut his mouth with a click.
‘You both look fine to me, so you can be getting on with homework, alright? You’ve got exams coming up, remember?’
Vince groaned. His stomach was still sore and he knew studying would just make him want to cry.
‘Please, Howard’s mum, I really don’t feel good. I’ve got a horrible tummy ache.’
‘Is it affecting your brain?’
‘...No.’
‘Right, then. I’ve had to miss work to find out what you’ve been getting up to, so you can study quietly while I focus on my emails, okay?’
She took a seat on the other sofa with her laptop to keep an eye on them. The boys made eye contact and Howard shrugged. With a sympathetic look to Vince, he switched off the T.V that was still playing Colobus the Crab quietly and grabbed his schoolbag.
They studied in silence for a while - well, Howard studied. Vince stared at his book with glazed eyes and tried to keep still lest he aggravate his sore stomach. After a while, the silence was suddenly broken by Vince coughing harshly into his sleeve. His stomach protested vehemently with each cough that wracked his body, but he couldn’t stop. He only pulled his arm away from his mouth to shakily grasp the water that Howard was holding out, sipping slowly. Howard took a sharp intake of breath.
‘Mum.’
Vince looked up at the serious tone, his coughs slowly subsiding. Howard’s mum was already kneeling in front of Vince, reaching out to take his arm. Vince glanced down and saw what had them so concerned. His shirt sleeve was stained red with blood, darker than Vince might expect and with little clumps. He suddenly felt dizzy.
‘Vince…’ Howard reached out and used his sleeve to wipe under Vince’s nose. It came away red. ‘You’re bleeding.’
‘Howard, get the car keys.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Howard asked, eyes not leaving Vince as he stood to grab the keys from the bowl on the side table by the door.
‘Have you had any injuries today, Vince?’
Vince shook his head.
‘His stomach’s all bruised.’ Vince shot Howard a glare, but he didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. His mum held the hem of his top with a questioning look and, on Vince’s nod, lifted it. She hissed in sympathy.
‘What the hell happened, Vince?!’
‘Nothing. I fell.’
‘It was his foster mum.’
‘Howard!’
‘Sorry!’
‘Can you stand, love? We need to get to the hospital.’ Vince was shaking his head before he’d heard the whole sentence.
‘No doctors. I hate doctors. No hospital.’
‘Vince -’
Howard sat next to Vince and took his hand.
‘I’ll be right there, little man. I’ll even come into the room if they let me. You really need to get it looked at, it could get worse. And you’re in so much pain. Please?’
Vince shook his head, feathered locks falling into his eyes.
‘Vince, love, you could have internal bleeding, and it’ll only get worse. Please let me take you to the hospital.’
In the end they won, and Vince was dragged to A&E. On the plus side, Howard let him hold his hand the whole time. He did have internal bleeding, and was removed from his foster placement the next day. He did have a horrible argument with his social worker, though.
‘I’m not going!’
‘You have to.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Vince, you don’t get a choice here. I’m sorry, I know it’s not fair -‘
‘As if you’re sorry! You don’t care, as long as you get paid you don’t care what happens to any of us!’
‘Now, you know that’s not true. I’m sorry, Vince, but there’s no-one else in this catchment area who’s able to take you. It’s either this or the group home.’
‘Group home.’ He wasn’t moving schools. He just wasn’t. If he moved that far away he wouldn’t be able to see Howard very often and he’d probably forget all about him, or find a new best friend and realise he’d hated Vince all along. That couldn’t happen. Vince needed Howard. And Howard needed him, so it worked. But if he left he might not need him anymore.
Vince knew he was pushing his luck here. He knew he was extraordinarily lucky that he’d never had to move schools before - most kids in the group home had been to at least two or three schools before they were ten. Luckily there were a lot of foster placements in his area, and when there weren’t Vince wasn’t above begging and screaming to stay in the group home so he wouldn’t have to move. Well, he tried his patented Vince charm first of course, but social workers seemed to be immune. They weren’t terribly receptive to begging and screaming either, but he’d had the same social worker for a few years now and despite what he’d said she genuinely seemed to care about the kids she looked after. Most of the time.
‘Vince you can’t spend your life in a group home, you’ll become institutionalised. And they’re a really lovely couple, you should at least meet them. I really think you’ll get on well.’
Not as well as he got on with Howard.
‘Group home or I’m staying with Bitchface. I’m sixteen anyway, if I’m gonna be institutionalised it’s a bit late to be worrying about it now.’
Oh. He was sixteen.
‘And, and I’ve got exams and stuff. You can’t make me move schools now, I’m at a critical point in my education. It’ll mess my head up and I’ll fail everything and won’t be able to get a job and I’ll end up homeless and I’ll perish in the winter and rats will eat my body -‘
‘Alright, alright.’ His social worker shook her head fondly. ‘You’re lucky I like you, Vince. The other social workers wouldn’t let this happen.’
Vince grinned. ‘That’s why you’re my favourite.’
‘Mm, and look at you, all smiles now you’ve got what you want. You’re certainly something. I’ll tell them you’re going back to the group home, then.’
‘Thanks, Bernie. You’re the best!’
‘Bernadette.’ She corrected half-heartedly. ‘Go on, get out, I’ve just got to speak with the doctor and I’ll drive you there. And please stop calling her Bitchface. I know she beat you up, but really, Vince!’
Vince grinned all the way to the car. That had been a close one.
——————————
Eighteen
The wind blew cold against Vince’s skin, causing him to shiver as he huddled against the wall, arms wrapped around himself. He had on a thin jacket, but it didn’t do much against the icy wind, nor against the damp brick against his back. He kept his head down and pulled his knees towards his chest. The underpass was quiet at this time of night and there was no way he could stay at the hostel his social worker had had to send him to now that he’d aged out of the system, not while that creepy guy was there. He listened to the cars passing by in the distance and wished desperately that he was in one of them - that he had no reason to be sitting under an underpass in the middle of the night, cold and hungry and feeling like the most unimportant person in creation.
God, he was going to be so tired at the zoo tomorrow. He wished he could sneak into the zookeeper’s hut and kip there, but he never managed to wake up before Howard got in and he didn’t want him to get suspicious. So he had no choice but to huddle up on the street and hope he didn’t get murdered. He wondered how long it would take them to find him if he did. He wondered how many people would come to his funeral. Howard, definitely. Maybe his parents too, and maybe Bryan… he wasn’t too sure about Bryan.
When he was little, even after Bryan had left him at that group home with very little warning and barely a goodbye, Vince had idolised Bryan. He was rarely actually present in the jungle, but he was the only other human Vince had known for the first five years of his life. And then he’d brought him to London and disappeared again, but that wasn’t unusual. But he hadn’t come back. He’d promised, and Vince had held onto that promise for years. Even now, he half hoped his phone would ring and it would be Bryan, telling him he was taking a break from touring and making music, and could Vince come to the jungle for a visit? But even if he did call, Vince didn’t know if he actually wanted to speak to him, or if he just wanted him to want to speak to Vince. It was all very confusing.
But he’d never admit any of that outside of his own head. According to the rest of the world, Bryan had been a great caregiver until he’d had to let Vince go for his own sake.
So. No Bryan.
The temperature was slowly dropping, and light rain was beginning to fall. Vince stared blankly at a spot in the distance, watching the headlights of distant cars reflect off the shiny, wet ground. He listened as they sped past overhead, the hollow feeling in his stomach growing.
He couldn’t do this. Not again. The nights were so long, and so cold. He got so hungry, which he wasn’t unused to but it still sucked. Stuck out here with nothing to occupy himself with but his thoughts, his brain went weird. There were times, happier times, when he’d been with a rare, kind foster family, or when he’d been awake in the early hours of the morning during a sleepover with Howard, where his mind wandered to the most amazing places. He could sit for hours and not get bored, thinking up all kinds of fantastical adventures. He loved his mind. But times like these, where he couldn’t forget how lonely he was, his mind turned dark. The fantasy lands he created morphed into twisted dystopias, and Vince was forced to confront all the terrifying things he tried so hard to keep hidden. Sometimes, his mind really scared him.
Vince leapt abruptly to his feet. He couldn’t stay out here tonight. Without going back to the hut, there was still one place left he could go.
Within twenty minutes, Vince had made his way to the keeper’s hut. He slipped inside, grabbing his uniform jacket, and quickly left again. He walked around the back of the zoo, where Howard had left the van he’d recently bought, and fished for the keys in the jacket pocket. One day, he was going to paint the van all kinds of genius colours. He quickly climbed in the back and shut the door.
Okay, so this wasn’t ideal. It was still cold and dark, but it was dry and he felt safe enough to actually let his guard down here and go to sleep. Obviously he had to shut his head up first, hence the jacket, in which he kept his iPod.
Vince pushed the earphones into his ears and quickly scrolled through to find some Bowie. He was always soothing enough to ward off the darkness and magical enough to bring back Vince’s natural sparkle.
He settled down on the hard floor, jacket rolled under his head for a pillow, and curled into a tight little ball. Shivers wracked his frame, but there was nothing he could do about that. He just curled up tighter, pushed his face into his makeshift pillow and tried to pretend he was somewhere else. He couldn’t be here, because this was sad and lonely and scary, and Vince was made of sunshine. Bad things don’t happen to sunshine people. Everyone knows that.
——
Vince was rudely awoken by the sound of the van doors crashing open, and bright sunlight spilling into his dark little haven. He squinted, hands up to block the light, and curled his legs up closer to his body. He immediately became aware of a stiff ache in his back and a crick in his neck.
‘Vince?’
Vince sat up and squinted at the silhouette in the doors.
‘Alright, Howard?’
Oh. Howard knew he slept in the van. And now he was going to think he was a wuss and he’d realise how pathetic he really was and that he never should have been friends with him in the first place -
‘Vince, why are you in the van? And, more importantly, why didn’t you lock it? Anyone could have got in!’
Oh, yeah. He probably should have done that.
‘Oh, I forgot. Is it morningtime?’ He sat up on his knees, dragging his jacket up with him and wincing as his knee landed on one of his discarded earphones.
‘Yes, Vince, but why on Earth are you in the van on a Saturday at six A.M?’
Good question. Now how to answer…
‘I was led here by baby squirrels, they said the Holy Grail was in the van.’
‘Oh, right. And was it?’
‘Oh, no. They got all mixed up - they get confused sometimes, see, and it was dark and rainy and they were a bit sad outside on their own, so they brought me here to keep them company.’
As he spoke, Howard climbed into the van, closing the doors behind him, and draped his jacket over Vince’s shoulders. The sight of Vince all curled up tight with nothing but a thin jacket clearly made for looks rather than warmth had tugged harshly at his heartstrings. Vince immediately snuggled into Howard’s jacket. It was warm with Howard’s body heat, and bigger than his own. Almost as good as a proper hug from Howard. Almost.
‘I see. And why didn’t they just go home?’
‘There’s this badger there - they eat squirrels, you know? And he’s been eyeing them up but the other squirrels don’t believe them so they ran away.’ Vince pushed his face into the jacket so that it came up to his nose. Howard shuffled closer and rubbed his big Northern mitts up and down Vince’s arms. It didn’t make much of a difference, temperature wise, but it sparked a little glow of warmth in Vince’s heart, so that was something.
‘Well, maybe we could create a little space for them in the keeper’s hut? Get a sleeping bag and so forth?’
Vince grinned. That sounded good. Apart from one thing…
‘You want them to stay there on their own?’
‘Well, I suppose I could spend a few nights here and there… there is an awful lot of work to do here, you know. Speaking of, we’ve got to feed the animals soon. Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.’
He stepped out of the van, holding out a hand to help Vince down. Vince had to hide a little grin in the collar of Howard’s jacket.
‘Oh, and Vince?’
‘Yeah, Howard?’
‘Next time the baby squirrels have a problem, maybe they could talk to their best mate? He might be able to help, you know. He’s very wise.’
Vince snorted. ‘I don’t think he’s that wise.’
‘Wiser than you think, little man.’
Vince snorted again and didn’t deign to respond except with a fond look of exasperation and a head shake. But when they got into the keeper’s hut, the first thing he noticed was a little pile of sweets on the table - raspberry bootlaces, Neptune fizz, a few little cupcakes. Almost as if Howard had known he’d need cheering up. He seemed to have a sixth sense for that kind of thing. Maybe he was wiser than he’d thought after all.
——————————
Thirty
The wind blew softly, making Claire’s greying hair dance around her face. She tucked it behind her ear as she gazed out at the park. It was empty apart from her and a group of four laughing and mucking about a little way off. She didn’t pay them too much mind, lost in her thoughts as she was - it was Vincent’s thirtieth today. It never got easier, no matter what everyone else seemed to think. He was always on her mind. She’d just been on the phone with one of the officers who’d been helping her look for Vince all those years ago, wondering if there was any chance she could try that ancestry DNA test she’d heard about to find him. But he was adamant that there was no chance Vincent was alive to do it. She’d had to try very hard not to swear at the person on the phone - there were other officers she could try, after all. But the conversation had been infuriating.
‘It’s been thirty years .’ She’d hissed through gritted teeth. It was hard to keep the wobble out of her voice, even after all this time.
‘Exactly,’ the officer had said in a practiced. formal tone, ‘so we have to entertain the possibility that he’s not with us anymore.’
‘He was never ‘with us’, was he?’ Claire snapped.
‘I meant-’
‘I know what you meant!’
‘Look, you’ve sued the hospital and won. Quite a hefty sum. I’m not quite sure what else you want from us.’
Claire had gaped in disbelief. Was this bitch serious?
‘I want my baby ! What, you think money is going to make up for the fact that they lost him? He’s thirty . He’s older than I was when I had him, and I’ve never even seen his face! I mean, how do you lose a baby ?! He could be anywhere, anything could have happened to him and you don’t even care!’
By that point she was almost crying, as she did almost every time she spoke about Vincent. One stupid mix up, one nurse not paying attention and her baby had to grow up without her. If he’d even grown up at all. She breathed deeply through her nose. She couldn’t just sit by and do nothing when he could be out there thinking she didn’t care. And if he wasn’t out there anymore, as awful as that would be, she at least wanted to know. She needed closure. And she felt like she’d exhausted all of her options. How else was she supposed to find him?
But the conversation had been fruitless. So here she was, sitting in the park where she and her husband had finally decided on Vincent’s name, just thinking about him and trying not to give up hope.
She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to go home and record a birthday message for Vincent. She wanted to take him out for dinner or drinks, maybe have a party. She wanted to buy him an over-the-top present and hug him for too long and smother him in embarrassing Mum kisses.
Her stomach felt hollow and her heart ached. She wondered if that ache would ever hurt any less. She didn’t think so.
She didn’t want to give up hope, but she only had a tiny spark left. It wouldn’t ever go out, but a huge part of her thought that she wouldn’t ever find him. She could only hope and pray that he was out there somewhere, living a full and happy life.
Claire gazed across the park to the big tree her kids had loved climbing when they were little. She wondered how high Vincent would have gone. There were a few people over there now, though only one was climbing the tree. She couldn't help but be impressed that his hat was staying on his head even as he hung upside down like a monkey. That thought was quickly followed by her realisation that one of the group was an actual monkey. Claire blinked hard and shook her head. She looked again. Yep, that was a gorilla alright. A real, honest-to-God, actual gorilla. In a park in Dalston. Well, something odd was always happening in London. She put it out of her mind, thoughts wandering back to her missing son. That was, until the group walked past her bench on the way out of the park and a twenty-pound note fell on the floor.
‘Oh, excuse me?’ She called after them. She grabbed the note and held it out to the tall man dressed in various shades of brown and sporting a moustache. Quite a contrast to his human companions, one dressed in shiny purple robes and a matching turban, the other of whom was wearing a shimmery blue jumpsuit with platforms and a blue-studded cowboy hat. None of them looked dressed for mucking about in the park, but they certainly made quite the picture. ‘You dropped this.’
‘Oh, thank you very much.’
She smiled as she noticed Moustache-guy’s hand linked with Hat-guy’s. She loved seeing people in love. The man took the note, and she looked past him curiously. Hat-guy was talking softly to the actual, real gorilla, saying something about going home. He was resting an elbow on Purple-guy’s turban, who had on the most affronted expression she thought she’d ever seen, but didn’t protest. Something deep inside of Claire pulled at her as she watched Hat-guy’s eyes sparkle as he spoke, and before she’d had time to think about it, she’d called out -
‘Nice hat.’
Hat-guy grinned over at her. He had a lovely smile.
‘Cheers.’
And with that the group left the park, and Claire returned to her bench. She’d stay here a little longer, then go home and set up the camera. She needed to say happy birthday to Vincent.