“Slow down, Mr Dust, you’ll do yourself a mischief!” she called after him. Then she turned back to Joe and Lauren. “He can’t hear me. Well, in truth he can’t hear a thing! Do you want to leave that little petition thing with me?” She angled her head and studied it for a moment. “Oh dear, it looks like all the signatures have fallen off.”
“We were hoping for more,” said Joe, weakly.
“Well, if you run you might just catch him!” said Mrs Chubb.
Joe and Lauren shared a smile, and walked slowly out to the car park. To their surprise Mr Dust had abandoned his Zimmer frame and was clambering astride a shiny new Harley Davidson motorbike. It was the brand new jet-powered Vortex 3000. Joe recognised it, because his dad had a small collection of 300 motorbikes and was always showing his son brochures of new ones he was going to buy. The superbike, at £250,000, was the most expensive motorbike ever produced. It was wider than a car, taller than a lorry, and blacker than a black hole. It shone with a very different chrome to that of the headmaster’s Zimmer frame.
“Headmaster!” called Joe, but he was too late. Mr Dust had already put on his helmet and revved the engine. He put the beast into gear and it roared past the other teachers’ humble cars at a hundred miles an hour. It went so fast that the Headmaster was clinging on by his hands, his little old legs dangling up in the air behind him.
“YYYIIIIIPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEE…..!” cried the Headmaster as he and his preposterous machine disappeared off into the distance, becoming a dot on the horizon in a matter of seconds.
“There is something very strange going on,” said Joe to Lauren. “The Witch gets the sack, the headmaster gets a £250,000 motorbike…”
“Joe, you’re being silly! It’s just coincidence!” laughed Lauren. “Now, am I still invited for dinner tonight?” she added, rapidly changing the subject.
“Yes yes yes,” said Joe eagerly. “How about I meet you outside Raj’s in an hour?”
“Cool. See you in a bit.”
Joe smiled too, and watched her walk away.
But that bright golden glow that surrounded Lauren in Joe’s mind was beginning to darken. Suddenly something felt very wrong…
Chapter 19
A Baboon’s Bottom
“Maybe your headmaster is simply having a mid-life crisis,” pronounced Raj.
Stopping off at the newsagent’s shop on the way home from school, Joe had told Raj about the curious events of the day.
“Mr Dust is about a hundred. He’s got to be more than mid-way through his life!” said Joe.
“What I mean, Clever Clogs,” continued Raj, “is that perhaps he was just trying to feel young again.”
“But it’s the most expensive motorbike in the world. It costs a quarter of a million pounds. He’s a teacher not a footballer, how could he afford it?!” proclaimed Joe.
“I don’t know… I am no detective like Miss Marbles, or the great Shylock Holmes,” said Raj, before looking around his shop and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Joe, I need to ask you about something in the strictest confidence.”
Joe lowered his voice too. “Go ahead.”
“This is very embarrassing, Joe,” whispered Raj. “But do you use your dad’s special toilet paper?”
“Yes, of course, Raj. Everybody does!”
“Well, I have been using his new one for a few weeks now.”
“The mint-flavoured bum wipes?” asked Joe. There was now a huge range of Bumfresh products including:
HOTBUMFRESH – warms your bottom as you wipe.
LADYBUMFRESH – specially soft wipes for ladies’ bottoms.
MINTYBUMFRESH – leaves your bottom with a cool, minty aroma.
“Yes, and…” Raj took a deep breath. “My bottom has come up all… well… purple.”
“Purple!” said Joe with a shocked laugh.
“This is a very serious matter,” chided Raj. He looked up suddenly. “One copy of the Daily Mail and a packet of Rolos, that will be 85p, be careful with those Rolos on your dentures, Mr Little.”
He waited for the pensioner to leave the shop. Ding went the bell on the door.
“I didn’t see him there. He must have been lurking behind the Quavers,” said Raj, a little shaken at what the pensioner might have heard.
“You are joking aren’t you, Raj?” said Joe with a quizzical smile.
“I am deadly serious, Joe,” said Raj gravely.
“Show me, then!” said Joe.
“I can’t show you my bottom, Joe! We’ve only just met!” exclaimed Raj. “But let me draw you a simple graph.”
“A graph?” asked Joe.
“Be patient, Joe.”
As the boy looked on Raj grabbed some paper and pens and drew this simple graph.
There is video content at this location that is not currently supported for your device. Caption for this video is diplayed below.
Purpleness
“Wow, that is purple!” said Joe, studying the graph. “Is it painful?”
“It is a little sore.”
“Have you seen a doctor?” asked Joe.
“Yes, and he said he had seen hundreds of people in the local area with brightly coloured bottoms.”
“Oh no,” said Joe.
“Maybe I will have to have a bum transplant!”
Joe couldn’t help but laugh. “A bum transplant?!”
“Yes! This isn’t a laughing matter, Joe,” chided Raj. There was hurt in his eyes that his bottom had become the subject of mockery.
“No, sorry,” said Joe, still giggling.
“I think I will stop using your dad’s new Bumfresh wipes and go back to the shiny white my wife used to buy.”
“I’m sure it isn’t the bum wipes,” said Joe.
“What else could it be?”
“Look, Raj, I’d better go,” Joe said. “I have invited my girlfriend over later.”
“Oooh, girlfriend is it now? The pretty girl you came in with when I sold you the ice lollies?” said the newsagent brightly.
“Yes, that’s her,” said Joe shyly. “Well, I don’t know if she really is my girlfriend, but we’ve been spending lots of time together…”
“Well, have a lovely evening!”
“Thanks.” Arriving at the door Joe turned back to the newsagent. He couldn’t help himself. “Oh, by the way, Raj, good luck with the bum transplant…”
“Thank you, my friend.”
“I hope they can find one big enough!” Joe laughed.
“Out of my shop! Out! Out!” said Raj.
Ding.
“Cheeky boy,” muttered the newsagent with a smile, as he rearranged his Curly Wurlys.
Chapter 20
A Beach Ball Rolled in Hair
Bumfresh Towers pulsated with music. Coloured lights spun in every room. Hundreds of people swarmed around the house. This was a party that was going to get complaints about the noise.
From people in Sweden.
Joe had no idea that there was a party at the house tonight. Dad hadn’t mentioned anything at breakfast and Joe had invited Lauren over for dinner. As it was a Friday night they could stay up late too. It was going to be perfect. Maybe tonight they might even kiss.
“Sorry, I had no idea about all this,” said Joe, as they approached the giant stone steps at the front of the house.
“It’s cool, I love a party!” replied Lauren.
As darkness fell and strangers tumbled out of the house clutching bottles of champagne, Joe took Lauren’s hand, and led her through the huge oak front door.
“Wow, this is some house,” shouted Lauren over the music.
“What?” said Joe.
Lauren put her mouth to Joe’s ear so she could be heard. “I said, ‘wow, this is some house’.” But Joe still couldn’t really hear. Feeling the heat of her breath so close to him was so exhilarating he stopped listening for a moment.
“THANK YOU!” shouted Joe back into Lauren’s ear. Her skin smelt sweet, like honey.
&nb
sp; Joe searched all over the house for his dad. It was impossible to find him. Every room was oozing with people. Joe didn’t recognise a single one of them. Who on earth were they all? Guzzling cocktails and gobbling finger food like there was no tomorrow. Being short, Joe really found it hard to see over them. His dad wasn’t in the snooker room. He wasn’t in the dining room. He wasn’t in the massage room. He wasn’t in the library. He wasn’t in the other dining room. He wasn’t in his bedroom. He wasn’t in the reptile house.
“Let’s try the pool room!” shouted Joe in Lauren’s ear.
“You’ve got a pool! Cool!” she shouted back.
They passed a woman bent over vomiting by the sauna as a man (presumably her boyfriend) patted the small of her back supportively. Some party guests had either dived or fallen into the pool, and were bobbing around in the water. Joe enjoyed swimming, and the thought that none of these people looked like they would get out of the pool if they needed a pee, clouded his mind.
Just then he spotted his dad – wearing just a pair of swimming trunks and his curly afro toupee, and dancing to a completely different song than the one that was playing. Covering the wall behind him was a vast mural of a strangely muscle-bound version of himself reclining in a thong. The real Mr Spud boogied badly in front of it, looking more like a beach ball that had been rolled in hair.
“What’s going on, Dad?” Joe shouted, half because the music was so loud and half because he was angry his dad hadn’t told him anything about the party. “Who are all these people? Your friends?”
“Oh no, I hired them in. £500 each. Partyguests.com.”
“What’s the party for, Dad?”
“Well, I know you will be so pleased to know that Sapphire and I have got engaged!” shouted Mr Spud.
“What the—?” said Joe, not able to disguise his shock.
“It’s great news, isn’t it?” Dad yelled. Still the music boom boom boomed.
Joe didn’t want to believe it. Did this brainless bimbo really have to be his new mum?
“I asked her yesterday and she said ‘no’, but then I asked her again today and gave her a great big diamond ring and she said ‘yes’.”
“Congratulations, Mr Spud,” said Lauren.
“So you must be a friend of my son’s from school?” said Mr Spud, his words tumbling out clumsily.
“That’s right, Mr Spud,” replied Lauren.
“Call me Len, please,” said Mr Spud with a smile. “And you must meet Sapphire. SAPPHIRE!” he shouted.
Sapphire tottered over in her shocking yellow high heels and even more shocking yellow mini-dress.
“Would you show Joe’s friend the engagement ring, my gorgeous lady love of all time? Twenty million quid, just for the diamond.”
Joe spied the diamond on his soon to be stepmother’s finger. It was the size of a small bungalow. Her left arm was dangling lower than the right with the weight of it.
“Er… er… oh… It’s so heavy, I can’t lift my hand but if you bend down you can see it…” said Sapphire. Lauren stepped closer to get a better look. “Haven’t I seen ya somewhere before?” Sapphire asked.
Mr Spud leaped in. “No, you haven’t, my one true love.”
“Yes I have!” said Sapphire.
“No, my angel cake!
“OMG! I know where I seen ya!”
“I said shut it, my chocolate sprinkled princess!” said Mr Spud.
“You done that ad for Pot Noodle!” Sapphire exclaimed.
Joe turned to Lauren, who looked at the floor.
“It’s well good, you know the one, Joe,” continued Sapphire. “For the new sweet and sour flavour. The one where she has to do karate to stop people from nicking it!”
“You are an actress!” spluttered Joe. The advert was coming back into focus in his mind. Her hair was a different colour, and she wasn’t wearing an all in one yellow catsuit, but it was Lauren all right.
“I better go,” said Lauren.
“And did you lie about having a boyfriend too?” demanded Joe.
“Goodbye Joe,” said Lauren, before weaving past the guests in the pool room as she ran off.
“LAUREN!” shouted Joe after her.
“Let her go, son,” said Mr Spud sadly.
But Joe raced after her, and caught up with her just as she reached the stone steps. He grabbed her arm, harder than he had anticipated and she turned around in pain.
“Oww!”
“Why did you lie to me?” Joe stammered.
“Just forget it, Joe,” said Lauren. She suddenly seemed a different person. Her voice was more posh now and her face less kind. The twinkle in her eye had definitely gone, and the glow around her had turned into a shadow. “You don’t want to know.”
“Don’t want to know what?”
“Look, if you must know your dad saw me on that Pot Noodle advert and called my agent. Said you were unhappy at school, and paid me to be your friend. It was all fine until you tried to kiss me.”
She skipped down the steps and ran off down the long drive. Joe watched her go for a few moments, before the pain in his heart was so great he had to bend over to stop it. He fell to his knees. A party guest stepped over him. Joe didn’t even look up. He felt he was so sad that he was never going to be able to get up again.
Chapter 21
A GCSE in Make-Up
“DAD!” screamed Joe. He had never been this angry before, and hoped he never would be again. He ran into the pool room to confront his father.
Mr Spud nervously straightened his toupee as his son approached.
Joe stood in front of his dad hyperventilating. He was too angry to speak.
“I am sorry, son. I thought that’s what you wanted. A friend. I just wanted to make things better for you at school. I got that teacher you hated sacked too. All I had to do was buy the headmaster a motorbike.”
“So…. You got an old lady sacked from her job... And then, and then… you… paid a girl to like me…”
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“What?”
“Listen, I can buy you another friend,” said Mr Spud.
“YOU DON’T GET IT DO YOU?” screamed Joe. “Some things can’t be bought.”
“Like what?”
“Like friendship. Like feelings. Like love!”
“Actually, that last one can,” offered Sapphire, still unable to lift her hand.
“I hate you Dad, I really do,” shouted Joe.
“Joe, please,” pleaded Mr Spud. “Look, please calm down. How about a nice little cheque for five million quid?”
“Ooh, yes please,” said Sapphire.
“I don’t want any more of your stupid money,” sneered Joe.
“But son…” spluttered Mr Spud.
“The last thing I want to do is end up like you… A middle-aged man with some braindead teenage fiancée!”
“Excuse me, I’ve got a GCSE in make-up,” said Sapphire angrily.
“I never want to see either of you again!” said Joe. He ran out off the room, pushing the vomiting lady out of his way and into the pool as he did so. Then he slammed the huge door behind him. One of the mural tiles from Mr Spud’s thong fell off the wall and smashed onto the floor.
“JOE! JOE! WAIT!” shouted Mr Spud.
Joe dodged past the hordes of guests and ran up to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. There wasn’t a lock, so he grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle so it wouldn’t open. As the beat of the music thumped through the carpet, Joe grabbed a bag and started filling it with clothes. He didn’t know where he was going, so wasn’t sure what he needed. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be in this ridiculous house for another minute. He grabbed a couple of his favourite books (The Boy in the Dress and Mr Stink, both of which he found hilarious and yet heart-warming).
Then he looked on his shelf at all his expensive toys and gadgets. His eyes were drawn to the little loo-roll rocket that his dad had given him when he stil
l worked at the factory. He remembered it was a present for his eighth birthday. His mum and dad were still together then and Joe thought it might have been the last time he was truly happy.
As his hand reached out to take it there was a loud thump on the door.
“Son, son, let me in…”
Joe didn’t say a word. He had nothing more he wanted to say to the man. Whoever his dad had been was lost years ago.
“Joe, please,” said Mr Spud. Then there was a pause.
TTTTHHHHHUUUUUMMMMMPPPPP.
Joe’s dad was trying to force the door open.
“Open this door!”
TTTTTTTTTTTHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHH HUUUUUUUUUUUM MMMMMMMPPPPPPP PPPP.
“I’ve given you everything!” He was putting all his weight behind it now, and the chair legs heroically dug themselves deeper into the carpet. He made one last try.
TTTTTTTTTTTT TTHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHH HHHUUUUUUU UUUUUUUUMM MMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMPPPP PPPPPPPPPPPPPPP PPPPPPPPPPP.
Joe then heard a much smaller thump as his dad gave in and leaned his body against the door. This was followed by a squeak as his bulk slid down the door, and a few whimpering cries. Then the light in the gap under the door was blocked. His dad must have been slumped on the floor.
Spud Junior felt unbearably guilty. He knew all he needed to do to stop his dad’s pain was open that door. He put his hand on the chair for a moment. If I open that door now, he thought, nothing is going to change.
Joe took a deep breath, lifted his hand, grabbed his bag and walked to the window. He opened it slowly so his dad wouldn’t hear, and then climbed onto the windowsill. Joe took one last look at his bedroom before jumping out into the darkness, and a new chapter.
Chapter 22
A New Chapter
Billionaire Boy Page 8