by Terry Tyler
It’s weird, Uncle Ned not being around to tell me about what happens at the office. How will I know what’s going on? I was looking at the picture of my mum and dad on their wedding day today, and I was thinking, Dad would want me to know what was happening. I’ll have to make sure Iz and Uncle Will tell me stuff. No point in asking Erin, all she cares about is being Paris Hilton. And she likes J.Dud.
Uncle Ned looks tired and depressed. He’s looking for jobs. When he took me over to Granny and Granddad’s on Sunday he stayed for lunch, too, but he hardly talked. I felt dead sorry for him.
Ollie says Sonya’s got a pierced nipple but I don’t see how she can have because she’s only thirteen and you’re not allowed to get pierced until you’re sixteen. He’s such a sad liar. I’m going to have an ear tunnel when I’m old enough. I reckon they look well smart.
July 30th 2009
I was mega pissed off because Laurel hadn’t accepted my friend request, but Ollie told me she’s gone to America with her grandparents for six weeks. Bloody great, eh? There was me thinking the holidays were my opportunity to get in! She’s in Brazil first. Expect the internet is a bit dodgy there. Or perhaps she’s having too much of a good time to look on Facebook.
Lanchester Estates news is that they voted for a new acting chairman (and acting managing director, though I don’t quite understand the difference). It was between Izzy and J.Dud, and of course J.Dud won. I don’t really get it—how can he suddenly be in charge of my company without Dad having said that he was the next in command if Uncle Ned fucked up? Doesn’t seem right. No one cares what I think, as usual. I was allowed a vote, though, and I voted for Izzy. I bet Erin voted for J.Dud, because she’s shagging Superboy again. I saw him sneaking out of the house before breakfast the other morning.
Uncle Will picked me up and took me to the meeting where it was announced. Izzy stormed out afterwards, and Tony Risley, who runs Finance, said, “that sort of emotional display makes it clear that women should not be allowed to run a company of this size.” The sexist wanker! Our English teacher, Mr Ledworth, says that sort of attitude belongs in the dark ages. Mind you, we all reckon he’s gay. Ollie’s dad says gays and feminists stick together, but then Izzy says Ollie’s dad is an ignorant pleb, so it’s hard to know what to think.
I’ve revised it: J.Dud is Voldemort. My company has been taken over by the Dark Lord! I’m fourteen in six months. Roll on December 2013, when I’ll be eighteen. Then I can sack him. I think.
August 3rd, 2009
Just come back from a meeting at the office. Big changes afoot! Izzy says she can’t spend one single day watching J.Dud ‘running amok’ with her father’s company, so she’s moving up to take over Lanchester Estates North when Ralph Ellerton retires at the end of October. She’s going up to ‘ease herself in’ as soon as she’s sorted out a way to leave Sales and Marketing in good shape, this end, and found herself a nice little Lanchester Home in Pontefract. Suppose she’ll be back at weekends.
When Izzy talks about J.Dud ‘running amok’ I get a picture in my mind of him haring round the boardroom with a tomahawk, I don’t know why. I think it’s the ‘k’ in ‘amok’.
“Much though I hate to say it, I think Tim Wyatt might be the best choice to run Sales, with Eddie Courtenay or Nick Throckmorton as his second in command,” she said, last night. I understand why she hated to say it, it’s because they’re J.Dud’s minions and Erin’s fan club. J.Dud says Erin can be in charge of Human Resources, which seems to be the easy one. She wanted to head Sales but Izzy said she wouldn’t have the first clue how to do so. Another bitching session ensued. Bloody women.
Superboy is going over to Calais where we’re building a hotel, because now J.Dud can go full speed ahead with his evil plans. Actually, I don’t know what Izzy’s problem is, it sounds great. We’re going to do what Erin said, actually run the hotel, not just build it for a client. Like, employ proper hotel managers and call it the Lanchester Normandy. Brilliant! It’s not going to cater for the tracksuit brigade who go over to buy cheap booze, but to older people. It’ll have a World War Two theme, and is to honour my great-grandfather, George Lanchester, who died in the Normandy Invasion. I know about that, I watched Saving Private Ryan over at Hannah’s. Those sort of films teach you history much better than school does. Anyway, the hotel is going to be epic! Superboy looked dead pleased with himself when we were told about it. Come to think of it, he looks a bit French. Tall, dark, and thinks he’s all that.
What I don’t understand is why they don’t build the hotel in Normandy, but I didn’t like to ask in case it was a dumb question. I must be growing up, a year ago I would have just said it anyway.
August 16th, 2009
Brilliant last night—Erin had her birthday party here. I was allowed to invite people too, and even though there were some adults there (the PPs and some of the big nobs from the office), no one treated me too much like a kid. Me and my mates went up to my room after Uncle Ned had frisked us (and it) for drink, but that was okay because we’d hidden it in the nursery. Sonya brought some Tia Maria and vodka so we could have Black Russians, they were awesome, everyone got quietly wasted. Shit, I reckon said ‘chillax’ a few times last night, I hope no one noticed. I’d only invited a select few who wouldn’t start acting stupid and attract attention from downstairs. The guys were on the PlayStation and the girls were on the laptop and their phones, giggling over Facebook and Twitter. Four people slept in my room. Okay, now I’ll tell you the best thing—Laurel was messaging with Sonya and Ruby, from America, and she said she thinks I’m hot! Sonya shouted it out and the other guys looked well impressed. Top moment! I stood up and did some ace moves; I think I might actually have looked quite cool and not a dick. And she accepted my friend request and she says she’ll go out with me!
The Jaz man kicks ass!
August 31st 2009
Me and Ollie, Zach, Sonya and Ruby have been on some good bike rides. Ruby’s mad on me but I’m waiting for Laurel to come home. Today Ollie was off having a grope with Sonya, and Ruby said didn’t I want to kiss her, but I said I couldn’t ’cause if I did Sonya would tell Laurel. The other reason I didn’t is that she’s pig ugly but she’s also dead nice so I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. So she went off for a grope with Zach and I played Merlin’s Legacy on my phone.
It’s going to be shit going back to school. You get to live your own life in the holidays and be yourself, then you go back to being treated like a kid.
September 5th, 2009
I was right. School is shit. Me and Ollie and Zach got some cider at lunchtime today. This sixteen-year-old dude called Xander got it for us. He’s got fake ID. Actually although it was fun at the time it wasn’t worth it ’cause I felt drunk and then sleepy and thirsty all afternoon and the time really dragged.
I’ve been messaging with Laurel. She’s back next week. Over and out.
September 21st, 2009
Went into town to meet Laurel yesterday morning. She looked so fit, she had on this dead short skirt and leggings, and a denim jacket. We went over to Ollie’s in the afternoon, it was a brilliant day. It was Hannah’s day on the PP rota and she agreed not to pick me up until ten-thirty, good old Hannah!
Laurel says I’m her first real boyfriend. She’s my first girlfriend, too, but I’m not telling her that. I’ve told Ollie if he says anything he’s dead.
October 11th, 2009
Laurel’s lost her new phone that her mum bought her so she’s grounded for a month, but we’re still messaging. I’m a bit down, too. You know I used to think the stuff about my company was boring? Well, it’s much worse when I don’t know what’s going on. When Uncle Ned was in charge he used to make sure I went to meetings and took me round the place. He got people to talk to me and they’d ask me about stuff, and even though I felt like some of them were giving me pats on the head, it was nice to be involved. Now J.Dud thinks it’s his company. He never gets in touch, I just hear stuff from Izzy and Uncle Will. By th
at I mean Uncle Will only tells me the good bits and I have to sit through Izzy’s endless whinges.
I’ll have to get Uncle Will to take me in more. I shall demand an audience with J.Dud and show him who’s boss!
October 15th, 2009
I put my name into the Google anagram finder. I am ‘Carnal Herpes Jest’. Ha! I tried lots of people. Most weren’t much good, but James Dudley is ‘Jaded Sly Emu’, which is neat. Not sure about the emu bit because he’s not that tall. He used to look up at Uncle Ned, but in such a Jaded Sly Emu way that Uncle Ned used to look as though he felt shorter even though he’s about six foot three.
Ollie is ‘Avoid Wrinkles’.
October 28th, 2009
I so hope no one ever listens to this, but Hannah was right—talking sort of gets things to make sense in your own head, and lying in bed talking into this means I don’t have to sit in front of some cretinous counsellor. I feel a bit messed up tonight. Okay, I’ll admit it, I cried earlier ’cause I was thinking how much I wished Mum and Dad were alive. I wish I could remember Mum. Everyone’s always said that I look like her, but I’m filling out now, and I’m starting to look more like Dad. Ned doesn’t talk about Mum, and Auntie Angie just goes all teary and says things like ‘she was an angel’ when I ask about her, but I can remember Dad saying, years ago, that she was jealous of Mum, and used to be bitchy about her. No one ever tells you anything straight, do they? That really pisses me off.
November 6th, 2009
Big bonfire party at Ollie’s tonight. I’m meeting Laurel there—she is mine, all mine, mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha! She looks like Katy Perry.
November 8th, 2009
Grounded for two weeks ’cause Izzy picked me from Ollie’s bonfire party and I smelt of drink instead of bonfires. Just my luck it was her PP weekend; Hannah would’ve just ticked me off and said ‘good thing it’s me and not your Uncle Ned’. Anyway—bi-ii-ig row. Iz phoned Uncle, who stormed round to Ollie’s on Saturday morning and had a right go at Ollie’s mum and dad. Hannah told me about it, so this is third hand, via Auntie Angie. Ollie’s mum said it was just a couple of glasses of cider, that Uncle shouldn’t be so uptight and didn’t he have a drink at a family get-together when he was nearly fourteen? Actually it was loads more than a couple of glasses but I’m not telling anyone that, not even Hannah.
Being grounded means I can’t see my beloved for two weeks, but we can Skype so it’s not too bad.
November 14th, 2009
Hannah came round this afternoon with her two little dogs, Dorothy and Parker. They’re sweet. She thinks they’re her kids and does all this gooey stuff with them. It’s nice, though. Pat hadn’t got much to do, so we all played Monopoly—yeah, I know, that sounds well sad, but it was sort of cosy, and better than sitting in my room on my own all the time. Hannah got all teary about years ago when she was my nanny. I can hardly remember it, but Erin’s told me it was lovely, like having a real family, even better than when we got Kate for a stepmother. Erin said we wished Dad would marry Hannah. I suppose he didn’t fancy her enough. I bet he shagged her, though, from what I’ve heard of Dad since. She wasn’t all fat and mumsy then, you see.
November 28th, 2009
Laurel says she loves me! I love her too. Ollie keeps asking me if I’ve ‘been there’ yet. I would—well, you don’t need telling that—but she says she’s not doing it until she’s at least fifteen because her mum would kill her. She’s only thirteen. Good thing I love her enough to wait. Her mum got pregnant with her when she was only sixteen, you see.
Ollie says Sonya gave him a blow job but I don’t believe him. I asked him what it was like and he said, ‘well, you know, she just sucked it’, and then he went all red and changed the subject so I knew he was lying. I wish I could see Laurel more, but she lives miles away, over the other side of town, and I can only get to see her on Saturdays. Her mum won’t let her go out on school nights, and if I get someone to take me over to her house they’ll make a big thing of me having a girlfriend and it’ll be round the PP network before I’ve got in the car.
December 6th 2009
I was fourteen yesterday—officially no longer a kid! Had a brilliant day with Laurel, Ollie, Sonya, Zach and Guy. Erin and Izzy took us bowling, then to a dead posh Italian restaurant, where Ollie was a total pleb and asked for pizza. I had the best thing I’ve ever eaten, pasta with ham in this creamy sauce. It was called Carbonara. The ice cream was the bollocks, best ever. Izzy pretended not to notice that me and Laurel were together, but Erin winked at me and said, “she’s lush, little bro!” which was nice.
Supposed to be doing homework. Can’t be bothered, ’cause as soon as I’ve done my GCSEs I’ll be leaving to sort post all day, at least for the first couple of months, and I won’t need to know about stupid French verbs then, will I? Suppose they might come in useful for my hotel in Calais, but everyone speaks English, anyway, don’t they?
Going on Facebook now.
December 17th, 2009
Very funny—not! Ollie says his mum was watching a film called Laurel Canyon yesterday, and now he keeps saying, have I been up Laurel’s canyon? What a total tard!
Ollie’s given me a DVD with loads of South Parks on, for Christmas. His cousin downloads all this stuff from torrents. Cool! I’m going to watch that now.
December 18th, 2009
Today it was the Lanchester Estates mega important drinks party in the boardroom, Christmas tradition and blah blah blah blah. Izzy packed up for Christmas early and came home for it, and the three of us went together. I thought it might be pretty good, but it wasn’t. Most people treated me exactly the same as when I was a stupid kid sitting in Dad’s big chair and saying dumb things—but I was fourteen last week, I’m five feet seven and I’ll have to start shaving soon, for fuck’s sake! Uncle Will—no, fuck it, he’s not my uncle, I’m just going to call him Will from now on—Will was better than the rest. He included me in conversations and didn’t talk down to me. J.Dud practically ignored me. Superboy was the worst, so patronising, walking round showing off about the hotel—my fucking hotel! I should call him Supercunt instead. It was like he had a sign above his head, saying ‘I’m Rob-Supercunt-Dudley, feel honoured that I speak to you, plebs!’ He was there with a girl called Amy, and Erin was well pissed off. I told her I thought Amy was minging, but I mainly said it ’cause I felt sorry for Erin. Actually she was quite pretty, with nice long blonde hair, though nowhere near as good-looking as Erin, who even I can see is über fit.
I said to Superboy, “Who’s the new skirt, then?” He laughed and pretended to clip me round the ear, the moron. Apparently she’s the daughter of some bloke who owns loads of land in Norfolk, so I can see the way the wind’s blowing there, poor cow. She was gazing up at Superboy all the time as if he’s the god he thinks he is.
Perhaps he’s got a huge knob, or something. I think mine is quite big, I’ve measured it, but I’m not asking Ollie how long his is, because he’s bound to lie. And tell everyone else his is bigger than mine.
Oh, yeah, the boardroom party. Well, I realised my mistake. I should have insisted on doing the speech. It happens at the end, to let everyone know it’s time to drink up and sod off. Obviously Dad used to do it, but Ned’s done it for the last two years. Of course, J.Dud did it this year. He Voldemorted his way up to the end of the table where my chair is, with his Death Eaters behind him (okay, I’m lying about that bit), and d’you know what? He only mentioned me once, right at the end.
“And so the future of Lanchester Estates is now entrusted to me,” he said, “a duty and honour I do not take lightly. For the next four years I shall lead the company into the second decade of the twenty-first century the best way I can, so that by the time Jasper takes charge he will be sitting on the throne of the most successful property developing company in the country.” He actually remembered to smile at me then, the fucking sly emu. “Let’s all raise our glasses first to the memory of George, Edmund, Jasper Senior and our own Harry,” he went on, and
everyone looked at the picture of Dad and the three of us behind his head, holding their champagne glasses high. Then he said, “And I now propose a toast to Jasper, or Jaz, as he prefers to be known”—patronising titters all round—“and wish him health, wealth and happiness for the New Year and every year after that!”
They all turned to me and said, “To Jasper,” except that half of them just said ‘Jaz’, so it petered out at the end and sounded really pathetic. “To Jaz … per”. I just stood there and smiled enigmatically.
Four years, J.Dud, I thought. Talking of toasts, I’ll propose one to you now. Four years, and you’re toast.
December 27th, 2009
Christmas—excellent. Food—awesome. Presents—even more awesome. Seeing Laurel tomorrow! I got Erin to get me some posh perfume and jewellery to give to her. Yesss!
January 2nd 2010
Big New Year’s Eve party at Ollie’s house. I stayed over. Laurel’s mum came to pick her up in a taxi at half past twelve, but I felt her tits under the mistletoe first. Laurel’s, I mean, not her mum’s. Then me and Ollie and Zach got wasted.
January 12th, 2010
School sucks. ’Specially going out in the cold. I asked Uncle Ned if me and Ollie and Zach could be home-schooled at our house so I could stay in my dressing gown all day, but he just laughed. Don’t know why, I thought it was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. This Saturday coming it’s Will on the PP rota, I’ll see what he thinks.
January 16th, 2010
Will laughed, too. He brought his son Charlie with him; Charlie’s three years older than me and one of those weedy blokes who writes poetry. He said that he would prefer home-schooling as well, because he thinks that ‘the social hierarchy within schools is not beneficial to all students’, which means everyone in his class thinks he’s a dork. Which he is.