Chapter Text
2005
Liam knows something is wrong because Noel won’t let go of his hand.
Noel always holds his hand when they go outside, because Liam is clumsy and reckless. He forgets roads are roads and steps off pavements without looking. He gets distracted by birds in parks, and kicks his football too far. So Noel has to hold on tight, yelling “Stay there, kidda. Don’t touch that.” in a voice that means Liam is meant to listen.
But they are not outside now. They’re in the house and the house is full of people.
Liam doesn’t know where they’ve all come from. He thinks maybe they’ve grown out of the cracks in the floorboards or emerged through the walls. There are too many shoes in the hallway and too many coats hung up. The house is full of different voices that he’s not used to hearing. Normally it’s just him and Noel, and Dad when he’s not at the pub. But today there’s men and women that bend down to speak to him and Liam does not like that. He doesn’t like grown-ups bending down because it means they want something.
The woman in the blue jumper smells funny. Not really bad, but cold and unfamiliar. She’s wearing this strong perfume that worms its way into Liam’s nose and makes him want to sneeze.
She also has something around her neck – a badge on a string, and when Liam looks at it, a picture of her face swings back and forth. He squints, trying to read her name, but he’s not very good at reading so the letters all jumble together.
“Hello, William,” she says.
He stares at the badge instead of her face. Noel’s fingers tighten around his.
Liam presses closer to him until his cheek brushes against Noel’s sleeve. Noel’s jumper is too small for him and the wool is scratchy against Liam’s skin. It’s started getting holes in it too and Liam sometimes likes to poke his finger through them when he’s bored. Liam takes a deep breath, inhaling Noel’s scent. He smells like toast and juice. He smells like home, but not the house they’re in. The house smells like smoke and mould and overflowing bins that should’ve gone out days ago.
But Noel smells safe.
The woman in the blue jumper says something to another woman near the kitchen. Liam hears words he knows and words he doesn’t.
Immediate. Concerns. Placement. Both boys.
Both boys, he understands, means him and Noel. That makes him look up. Noel is looking at the kitchen door. Their dad is in there.
Liam can hear him, even though the door is only half open and another one of the strange people has put their body in the way. This one is a man with a big white shirt and shiny shoes.
Dad’s voice is thick and angry, but he’s not shouting, which is rare. Liam knows the different kinds of voices dad uses. There is shouting that comes fast, like a plate smashing. Then there is the quiet voice that means shouting is coming later. He also has a laugh that is not a laugh at all.
This voice is the one that makes Noel stand very still beside Liam.
“You can’t just come in here.” Dad says. He’s talking slowly, his words almost blending together like they’re not a proper sentence at all.
The people he’s talking to don’t react how Liam expects. Normally when Dad talks to people, they shrink back or leave. These people don’t. They keep talking in their calm voices, and Liam thinks they must either be very stupid or very brave.
There’s more muffled voices, but Liam can’t understand what they’re saying. It can’t be good, however, because Noel pulls him back a little, almost behind him.
Liam looks around the living room because he does not want to look at the kitchen. There are cups everywhere. One with green fur in the bottom on the telly stand. One on the floor by Dad’s chair, tipped sideways, making the carpet hard and dark. There’s two bin bags by the door, bulging with rubbish. One of them has flies circling it. One lands on Liam’s arm and he shakes it off.
There’s a brown teddy under the coffee table, which Liam had lost until now. One of its eyes is missing and the stitches have come undone so its stuffing is slowly falling out. Liam moves to grab it, but Noel pulls him back and says, “Don’t.”
The smelly perfume lady leans in even closer. Liam notices she has a mole on her chin with a small hair growing out of it. “We’re going to take you somewhere safe for a little while.”
Liam looks at Noel. Noel does not look at him.
“A little while.” Liam repeats, because sometimes if he says things again he understands them better. But these words don’t really make sense.
“That’s right.” The lady says. “Just for now.”
Just for now sounds a bit like when Dad says, “I’ll be back in a minute.” And then the sky goes dark and Noel makes beans in a pan even though he’s not meant to touch the cooker. Just for now can be a very long time. It can sometimes last all night.
Liam’s belly feels twisty. “Is Noely coming?”
The lady smiles, but it is the wrong kind of smile. It sits on her face like it’s been put there with glue. Liam wonders how many people she’s given that smile to today.
“We’re going to look after both of you.” She says.
That is not an answer. Even though Liam is little, he knows that much. He knows when grown ups put blankets over words and wrap them up to make them sound better. Noel does it sometimes too, but Noel does it kindly. Noel says things like “it’s alright,” when it’s not alright, and “Go to sleep,” when he is still awake, and “I’m not hungry,” when there is only enough toast for Liam.
Dad shouts suddenly from the kitchen and it’s followed by the sound of a chair scraping back. Something bangs against the table – probably his fist. Liam jumps so hard that his teeth click together, and Noel’s arm comes around him at once, pulling him in and pressing Liam’s face to his stomach.
“It’s alright.” Noel says but his voice is shaky, which makes Liam feel worse than Dad’s shouting.
Noel is nearly ten. Noel knows everything. Noel knows how to make frozen ready meals taste nice, and he knows how to get the bath water to the perfect temperature. He knows how to make himself bigger when Dad comes too close. Noel knows where the photo is hidden, the one of Mam with baby Liam and little Noel beside her, though Liam is not allowed to touch it unless his hands are clean.
Noel is not meant to sound scared.
The kitchen door opens and the man with the shiny shoes steps into the living room. He has Dad with him, but he’s not holding him, just standing in a way which makes it hard for Dad to move the way he wants to. Dad’s face is bright red and his hair is sticking up. He looks at Liam, then at Noel, and he feels Noel’s whole body go rigid.
“You little liars.” Dad says.
Liam doesn’t know what lie he has told. He tries to remember. Then it comes back to him. It must’ve been after he got home from school the other day and found the packet of biscuits on the side. He’d reached up with his small hand and taken the last two, shoving them quickly into his mouth before anyone could notice. He thought he’d been sneaky, but later on Dad had stormed in, demanding to know where his biscuits had gone. Liam fixed his eyes steadily on the telly and mumbled that he didn’t know. That must’ve been it. The lie he told. But he doesn’t understand why stealing biscuits means all these people need to be here. He hopes he doesn’t get arrested. He knows stealing can send you to jail.
Noel’s arm tightens around him.
“They’re not liars, Mr Gallagher.” Another woman says. Liam can’t see her because she’s still in the kitchen.
Liam looks up at Noel again. He wonders if he should say something. Perhaps if he tells the truth, all these people will go away. But Noel isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at Dad. Noel’s face is pale and there’s a yellow bruise just under his right eye and a red mark near his mouth which Liam thinks looks like jam. Noel’s hair is grubby and it needs washing. Now Liam looks closely, he can see that Noel’s too-small jumper has stains down the front.
The woman in the blue jumper tells them they need to get a few things.
Noel moves first, pulling Liam with him towards the stairs. The lady follows just behind them. Liam trips on the bottom step and Noel catches him without looking.
Their bedroom is cold because Noel always has the window open, but at least it smells better than downstairs. There are two mattresses on the floor but only one has blankets on it. A few toys are scattered around, including Liam’s toy dinosaur, a red T Rex named Stompy.
Noel moves into the room, letting go of Liam’s hand briefly. Liam doesn’t like the empty feeling in his palm so he rushes over to the mattress and picks up Stompy, holding him close to his chest as he watches Noel move around the room. He grabs Liam’s school bag from the corner and starts folding clothes and putting them in. Liam’s red jumper, some socks, a few pairs of pants. Then Liam’s pyjamas go in, which means wherever they’re going, it’ll be overnight. Liam’s never been to a sleepover before. It’s something he knows older boys do and it sounds fun and exciting, but right now nobody looks excited.
Noel walks over with another one of Liam’s jumpers in his hands. “Arms.” He says, holding the worn fabric out.
Liam obeys, slowly lifting his arms. Noel dresses him quickly, and it’s rough because his hands are shaking. He then stuffs more things into Liam’s school bag until it’s bursting.
“That’ll do.” The lady in the blue jumper says gently. Liam forgot she’d followed them up.
Noel scowls at her, which makes Liam smile. He watches his big brother bend down and slowly lift up the mattress. He reaches under and brings his hand out a few moments later. In it are two photos and he holds them out in front of Liam.
The photos are creased. The first one has soft white lines through Mam’s face and one corner missing. Liam looks at the baby in it and knows it’s him because Noel says it is, but he doesn’t remember ever being that small.
The second photo is of the two of them. A school photo from earlier in the year. Noel’s got his arms around Liam and they’re both grinning at the camera. They look similar to each other but Liam’s eyes are much bigger and he’s got a rounder face. Noel’s got longer hair and thicker eyebrows.
Noel takes the photos gently and folds them inside a pair of Liam’s pants before putting them into the school bag with everything else.
“So they don’t get lost.” Noel says.
Liam nods, though he doesn’t know why Noel is packing the photos. They’re special and Noel always tells him to be careful with them, especially the one of Mam. It seems strange that Noel would put them in the bag with everything else. Liam clutches Stompy as they walk out of the room with the lady following them.
Downstairs, there’s still shouting. Dad sounds angrier than ever now and the house feels properly awake. The voices become clearer as Liam and Noel are ushered to the hallway by the strange smelling lady.
At the front door, someone puts a coat around Liam’s shoulders. It’s not his coat. It’s green, and he hates the colour green. It’s also too big for him and it smells strange.
Outside, it’s dark and cold but the streetlamps are bright. Liam squints. There are cars he doesn’t know parked by the kerb. Once again, he glances at Noel, who also has a strange coat wrapped around him. Noel is still clutching Liam’s little rucksack and Liam suddenly wonders if they are going to school. He thinks of carpet time and the milk he gets in the small cartons at snack time. It’s a weird time to be going to school, though. They walk to school when the sun is coming up, not when it’s hidden behind the night sky.
The perfume lady crouches again. “William,” she says slowly. “You’re going to come with me in this car.” She gestures to a big red car parked directly in front of their house.
Noel’s hand grips Liam’s so tightly it hurts. Liam wonders why the lady is just speaking to him. He furrows his eyebrows and looks up at Noel.
But Noel’s cheeks are wet and his bottom lip is trembling. Liam even notices a blob of snot oozing out of his nose. With the back of his free hand, Noel wipes it aggressively.
“And Noel, you’ll be going with Maria. She’s just indoors, love.”
Liam doesn’t understand. The lady’s red car is big. Big enough for both of them to fit. They don’t need to go in different cars. He opens his mouth to say this, but something stops him. A weird sound rips out of Noel. It’s sharp and sudden and so unfamiliar that Liam jumps back, startled.
“No,” Liam finally says. “I want to go with Noely.”
The woman’s face changes. “Noel is going somewhere else, sweetheart.”
The word sweetheart sounds forced and wrong. Liam decides he hates her. She’s not mean, but that makes it worse. She is gentle and clean and careful and she’s saying the worst thing in the world but trying to disguise it as something nice.
Liam shakes his head, sticking out his bottom lip. “No.”
Noel drops to his knees in front of him so quickly that it startles Liam again. He doesn’t like the way Noel is acting. There are tears streaming down Noel’s face and his nose is properly running now. Noel grabs Liam’s shoulders and grips him tightly.
“Listen,” he chokes out. His voice sounds tight and high, like he’s trying to hold his breath. “You gotta be good, yeah? You gotta go with her.”
“No.”
“You have to.” Noel says. Liam knows his brother well enough to know there’s no arguing right now. That this is final, and this is happening.
Liam starts to cry. The emotion hits him all at once and he doesn’t like it. He hates the fact that Noel is crying, and he hates all these strange people and their fancy outfits and their big cars. He holds Stompy up and buries his face in him, inhaling his comforting scent.
“Noely–” Liam mumbles into Stompy, soaking him with tears.
“I’ll find you.” Noel says through his own tears. He’s not trying to hold anything back anymore. He’s sobbing. Liam doesn’t ever see Noel cry and that makes Liam cry more.
The sounds that come out of their mouths are ugly and babyish, and neither of them can stop. His chest hurts so much that it feels like it might split open. He wraps his arms around Noel and holds on tightly. Tight enough that it’s hard to breathe. Tight enough that perhaps he’ll never have to let go.
“I’ll find you.” Noel cries into his ear. “I promise. I promise, kidda. Just don’t forget me.”
Liam doesn’t understand why Noel would say something like that. Forgetting Noel would be like forgetting his own name. It would be like forgetting the sun or the sky.
A grown-up touches Liam’s shoulder. Noel makes an angry noise and holds on for one more second, then two, then three. Like he’s trying to glue them together.
Then he lets go. And this is the moment Liam properly understands. He tries to hold on again, but Noel’s fingers slip away one at a time and then the woman in the blue jumper is guiding him backwards, her hand warm on his shoulder as she says gentle things he can’t hear properly because he’s crying so hard.
She ushers him to the car and he looks back at Noel, who’s still kneeling on the pavement with his face in his hands. The lady lifts Liam up and gets him strapped into the back seat of the car. Liam leans to the window and presses both hands to the glass, Stompy falling to his lap. His breath and tears cause the glass to fog up. Noel lifts his head, their eyes meeting once more.
Liam waits for someone to laugh and say it’s finished now, that he can get back out and Noel can climb into bed beside him and tell him he’s been brave. But the lady gets into the front of the car and shuts her door with a heavy clunk. As the car pulls away from the kerb, Noel gets smaller and smaller until Liam can’t see his face anymore, and he’s nothing but a blur amongst Liam’s tears.
2008
Liam no longer cries for Noel every night. He used to. At first, he cried so hard he made himself sick. Michelle had to sit on the edge of his bed with a bowl in her lap, rubbing circles into his back while he hiccuped and begged for Noely over and over again. Andrew used to stand in the doorway with his arms folded, looking completely helpless.
Michelle and Andrew fostered him not long after he was sent into care. Then the foster placement evolved into an adoption. Their house smells like washing powder instead of smoke and alcohol and he has learnt that there is always milk in the fridge and cereal in the cupboard, and even chocolate if he’s been really good. He’s learned that Andrew comes home when he says he will, and if Michelle says “five minutes,” she really does mean five minutes.
He has learned that bedrooms can have curtains with rockets on them, and learned that baths can be warm without Noel having to rigorously test the water first. He’s learned that if he wakes up scared, his parents will come running and offer him love and hugs instead of shouting and fists.
Sometimes, though, he forgets. He wakes in the dark and reaches across the bed for Noel, his hand landing on empty duvet instead. Sometimes he finds himself uttering Noel’s name automatically, talking to himself in his room thinking his brother’s there. Sometimes, when Michelle calls up the stairs, “Liam, love, tea’s ready,” for one strange second, he thinks he’s meant to grab Noel too.
Then he remembers there’s no Noel to grab.
Michelle and Andrew are his Mum and Dad now. He knows this because everyone says it. Teachers say it at parents’ evening. The lady from before used to say it when she came round with her folder and her careful voice. Michelle says it too, happy and proud.
“Our son.”
Liam likes it when she says that. It makes something warm open in his chest, like a light being flicked on in a dark room. He likes the way Michelle cuts his sandwiches into triangles and the way Andrew lets him sit and watch football with him, explaining the rules even though Liam just likes watching everyone chase the ball.
He loves them. But loving them does not make Noel disappear. Noel is still there, even if he’s not physically part of Liam’s life anymore, he’s tucked inside Liam like the photos under his pillow.
His two photos are the most precious things he owns. The one with Noel and the one with Mam. He looks at them most nights. It used to be every night, when he’d cry with that ache and homesickness. But now it’s just most nights.
This is how he knows he’s getting bigger. Sometimes he can go a whole day without thinking about Noel until bedtime. But then the guilt comes rushing in so fast it makes him feel sick. Like Noel will know, like he’ll find out wherever he is and know that Liam forgot him for a few hours.
So Liam keeps the photo close under his pillow. It’s his secret, even though Michelle knows. But she doesn’t ever mention it, and only touches it when she needs to change his bedding, but she puts it back in exactly the same spot under his pillow. This is one of the reasons Liam loves her, because she understands that some things belong only to him.
Bradley, however, does not understand that.
Bradley is fourteen now and thinks everything is funny in a way Liam does not always understand. He is Andrew and Michelle’s first son, which means he was here before Liam, in the proper way. There are baby photos of Bradley in the hallway. Bradley in a blue hat, Bradley in a high chair, Bradley on Andrew’s shoulders at the beach. Liam used to look at them all the time when he came here, trying to work out how he was supposed to be a part of this family.
But now there are photos of Liam. School photos, Christmas photos, summer photos and he never once felt as though he didn’t fit in.
But Bradley still looks at him like he’s just a visitor.
It happens on a Saturday afternoon when Mum and Dad are out shopping. Liam is in his room sitting cross legged on the carpet with the photo in his lap. It’s May 29th, which means it’s Noel’s birthday, and Liam is wondering where he is and what he’s doing. He’s trying to remember Noel’s voice. Some days he can hear it properly, but other days it’s all fuzzy, and that frightens him more than anything.
“What are you doing?”
Liam jumps so hard the photo slips from his hands.
Bradley is in the doorway with one shoulder pressed against the frame. He is tall, and already seems impossibly older to Liam, and he wears baggy jeans and oversized t-shirts. In one hand he’s holding a packet of crisps, which he’s chewing loudly with his mouth open.
“Nothing.” Liam says quickly.
Bradley looks at the photo on the carpet and smiles. It’s not a big smile, nor is it particularly mean, and that’s why Liam doesn’t move fast enough. Bradley steps into the room and bends down, picking the photo up between two fingers.
“Who’s this then?”
Liam’s stomach drops. “Give it back.”
Bradley turns the photo towards the window, squinting at it like it’s a piece of treasure he found on the pavement. “Is this your real brother?”
Liam hates that. Real brother. As if everything in his life now is just pretend.
“Give it back.” Liam says again, louder this time.
Bradley glances at him. “Calm down. I’m only looking.”
“You’ll bend it. Stop.”
“It’s already bent.”
“It’s mine!”
Bradley looks at the photo again. “I can’t believe you still carry this around.”
Liam feels his face going hot. “I don’t.”
“Yes you do.” Bradley laughs a little. “That’s weird.”
Liam gets to his feet. His hands are fists without him meaning them to be. He is not scared of Bradley. Bradley has never properly hurt him. Sometimes Bradley shoves him or trips him up, saying it was an accident, but Bradley is nothing like the pain he used to suffer. Still, there is something about Bradley that makes his skin crawl.
Bradley lifts the photo higher when Liam reaches for it. “What’s his name again?”
“Stop it.”
Bradley’s smile changes. He looks properly amused now. “What, you forgot?”
Liam launches himself at him then, fists and knees and anger. Bradley laughs, stepping back easily and holding the photo out of Liam’s reach. Liam grabs his arm and tries to climb him, desperate to snatch it back, but Liam is only seven years old and Bradley is much bigger and older and just finds the whole thing funny.
“Jesus, you’re mental.” Bradley says, shoving him away.
Liam stumbles and falls onto his bed. Bradley looks at him for a second with a strange curiosity, like he’s watching what Liam will do next.
Then there’s the rumble of an engine and the crunch of tyres pulling up in the driveway. Bradley looks mildly irritated, but slowly hands the photo back to Liam. He holds it out in front of him, hand still.
Liam reaches to grab it but Bradley yanks it back.
“You’re such a little freak sometimes.” He says cruelly, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. Outside, car doors slam and voices travel up through the open window.
Bradley hands back the photo and lets Liam take it this time. Then he turns on his heel and walks out, closing the door behind him.
For a second, Liam cannot move. He sits there on the edge of his bed with the photo clutched tightly in both hands, his chest rising and falling too quickly, listening to Bradley’s footsteps thudding down the stairs. He hears Mum’s happy voice calling hello from the hallway.
Everything is safe and normal, but Liam feels strange. He crawls up to the top of the bed and hides the photo back under his pillow, beside the other one. Then he lies down on top of it, arms wrapped around himself, and listens to Mum and Dad unpacking the shopping downstairs.
Liam rolls over and presses his cheek into the pillow and whispers Noel’s name just once, to check he still remembers how it sounds.