A short chapter for now. More to come later.
Ta.
(The usual disclaimer applies: I don't own the Boosh, much as I wish I did. I own my mismatched socks. That's about it.)
Vince had been nervous about being put with a foster family but his aunts and uncles had decided it was for the best. They were busy people, they couldn't keep up with a small boy with an imagination the size of Belgium.
They didn't really want him, Vince knew. He reminded them of his mum, and that was too painful.
Brian had wanted him but between touring the world and living wild in the jungles of India he'd realised that he couldn't give Vince the normal life he thought a boy should have. So he'd sent him back to England after only two months and the other aunts and uncles had decided that a foster family was in everyone's best interests. Vince hadn't had a say in the matter and at first the rejection had hurt. That was, until he found out he was going to Leeds.
His extended family had needed to fill out a lot of paperwork and Vince had convinced them of his age and talked enough in the interview to convince the social worker too. No one batted an eyelid really, at a foster kid who looked three years younger than his supposed age. They just assumed he hadn't been fed properly. He was going into foster care after all.
He'd been nervous about school. Not about the work, he could charm his way through that no worries. No, Vince was worried that he'd get there and Howard wouldn't be there, or that he wouldn't want a weird, little friend anymore. What if Howard didn't like his hair? He was desperate to do something with it but his foster family, nice though they were, didn't really understand the concept of a boy wanting to style his hair. They'd been a bit shocked at the way he'd customised his uniform but had figured that all in all he was a well behaved kid. Anxious but good.
Vince looked over at Howard and smiled. Howard was grinning and trying not to show it, his little eyes crinkling up and looking like chocolate coated raisins. Vince's stomach growled and he blushed as Howard looked toward the noise. He'd been too nervous for breakfast that morning.
"So why weren't you here yesterday, then?" Howard whispered as the teacher entered the room and began to greet various students.
"I was, um..." Vince didn't want to tell the truth. He didn't want to have to admit to having a panic attack and vomiting at the thought of going to school. Of going to school and Howard not being there, to be precise.
"I was trapped in my new room by a giant spider who wanted me to customize her web with rhinestone studs and no matter how many times I told her that my stud gun wouldn't work on spider silk, she just didn't listen. It was well freaky. My foster dad had to break down the door like a ghostbuster and hoover her up."
"Wow," Howard whispered. He wouldn't question a story about spiders. Spiders were unpredictable, scary. They were capable of anything as far as Howard was concerned and Vince felt proud that he'd been able to weave such a believable story in so short a time.
"You have a foster dad?"
"Uh-huh. And a foster mum. They're way better than crazy Aunty Sherbert. Or Aunty Lemon, or Aunty Pearl, or Aunty Eleanor, or Uncle Lou, or Uncle Blue, or Uncle Gregg..."
"You have a lot of relatives, Vince."
"And yet none of them wanted to have me," Vince smiled ruefully.
He regretted it immediately. Howard looked so sad, like a melancholy shrimp, but Vince didn't really get why. It was nice to have someone care that much though. He gave a sly grin, biting his lip and leaning over toward Howard so the teacher wouldn't hear.
"You still want to be my best friend, Howard?"
"Yes!"
Vince cringed. Howard's voice was breaking and that 'yes' had come out awfully loud and every child in the class was suddenly giggling and pointing. Their teacher had a look of surprise on her face at being interrupted and Howard was going that funny pomegranate colour again and trying to disappear inside his blazer.
Vince was getting cross. People weren't allowed to laugh at his Howard. Only he was allowed to laugh at Howard because he never actually meant it. Why wasn't the teacher telling them to stop?
Why were grown-ups so rubbish!
"Oi!" he cried, using his roughest cockney accent. "Leave Howard alone, right? And listen to the teacher!"
The giggling stopped. The teacher blinked. Howard sat up properly and gradually returned to a normal colour.
"Yes, well, thank you, um..." the teacher searched her class list for the right name.
"It's Vince Noir," he told her and then turned to Howard.
"Vince Noir Rock'n'Roll Star," they whispered together and Vince wished they were sitting closer so he could hold Howard's hands without anyone seeing. Howard was still his best friend. They were back together again.
And he had a genius plan for an adventure all set to go for when the last bell rang.
Life just kept getting better.