I have started writing my next book. Here's what I have scribbled so far.
Monday 17th September 2017
I am going to write a blog. My granddad has always been rich. Filthy rich, lucky man. He drives an Aston Martin and they don’t come cheap do they ? I wonder where he got all of his money from. I didn’t know but I do know but I didn’t before if you know what I mean and I didn’t know when I first started writing my story. Hang on I did or I wouldn’t be writing it would I ? Oh well never mind, what the heck I am writing now. I know what I am talking about.
My name is Philip but my mates call me Pip and I am sixteen, well almost. It’s my birthday in November. I am sixteen and about to fail my GCSE examinations which means I won’t be able to take my A levels and go to university.
Sixteen in November, my birthday is on the same day as my granddad but he won’t be sixteen like me. I wonder how old he will be. When I am seventeen I wonder if granddad will buy me an Aston Martin car. In our family Dad always pays for us to have driving lessons when we are seventeen and can get a licence. Granddad is rich so perhaps he will buy me an Aston Martin. Dad paid for driving lessons for my brothers Richard and Alexander. Will he do it for me ? No good Granddad buying me an Aston Martin if I do not have driving lessons.
Dad’s a doctor, actually he is a professor and a bit of a brain box my dad. He is professor of thoracic surgery what ever that is. Where is your thorax ? No kidding where it is I could never don it, I mean putting my hands into a person’s guts with all the blood and other stuff. Yuk.
My mum ? Well she is boring. You know what, she writes books and that is boring even if she does make a few quid from it. All she does hour after hour is to sit at her laptop tapping away and drinking gin. I tried drinking gin once, it was horrible. She turns out book after book, all soppy love stories. No, I would not want to write a book but hang on what am I doing now ?
Forget about my older brothers. I may tell you about them later or I may not. They are boring. Why is my family boring. My granddad is not boring and I do not want to be boring. Well you can not be boring if you drive an Aston Martin can you ?
I’ve decided this aint going to be a boring book. Not like the stuff Mum writes. I am not writing a book am I, I am writing a blog. A blog and that is cool !
DAY TWO Tuesday 18th September 2017
So here I am on day two of my blog. I am going to put what I write on to the internet so who knows I may even make some money. People who write blogs make money don’t they ? They make millions writing about chicken shops and some girl coinc it talking about beauty makeup. I aint a poo so forget the makeup stuff and I am thinking I might become a vegetarian so I’ll leave the chicken burgers. What I want to write about is how I explore why my granddad is so rich.
I hope he does buy me an Aston Martin then I can become James Bond. Double O seven licenced to kill. Who should I kill ? I think I will exterminate all those sodding exam paper markers who are going to fail me in my GCEs.
My granddad don’t just drive an Aston Martin you know, he lives in a big house with servants. Yeh he does you know, he has a gardener and a cleaning woman who comes in three times a week. Nan has a personal trainer. When the winter gets cold he and nan sod off to Barbados. Where is Barbados ? I don’t know.
I am going to fail geography so I will never know where Barbados is. My teacher is Mr Newman aka pappy Newman. He’d be better teaching history. He is so ancient and old he could teach from his own first hand experience. He don’t drive an Aston Martin, he drives a knackered old Ford Focus.
What I need is a plan, a plan to find out why my granddad is rich. I can’t just walk up to him and say Granddad why have you got so much friggin money ?Je is Mum’s dad so I guess I could ask her but to do that – I don’t think so. my brothers ? They are both at university studying to be geeks. Nah I aint going to ask them. How do I find out ? I need a plan. I have got a plan. At the end of today when I started writing this blog I decided to have a plan.
I want a plan so I can find out how Granddad got to be rich. When I know how he did it I am going to copy what he did then I can be rich as well. I need Granddad to buy me an Aston Martin but I can not wait for my birthday next year. If I am rich then you can all shove those GCSE examinations.
DAY THREE Wednesday 19th September 2017
“Have you done your homework yet ?” That was what Dad said to me whenI walked into the kitchen this morning. As I started to pour out a bowl of cherios. He said it again/ “Have you done your homework yet ?”
“We don’t have homework in year eleven, we have assignments.”
“Well you never did any homework in year seven, eight, nine and ten so why should you do any assignments in Year Eleven !”
“Do not eat with your fingers, get a spoon and take your breakfast into the dining room.!
“Dad, do you know what Mum’s dad did for a job when he was younger ?”
“Eat with a spoon I will tell you.”
I am going to become a vegetarian so I don’t put milk on my breakfast. What is the point of using a spoon but I waved a spoon in front of Dad so he would tell me about granddad.
“Your grandfather was Trickie Dickie and The Diamonds. When you get round to doing your homework you can look him up at the same time.”
“Trickie Dickie and The Diamonds.”
“Yes Philip, now go and do your homework. I am off to the hospital.”
“My friends call me Pip not Philip and we have assignments in year 11 not homework .”
So my granddad was a diamond dealer, no wonder he is do rich. Diamonds come from Africa don’t they ? Or is Barbados ? Is Barbados in Africa ? I thought it was in America. I will ask Pappy Newman when we have Geography today. Trickie Dickie, a bit of a cheating diamond deal was he ? That has been quite easy to find out. Not hard at all.
Mum came in Oh dear !
“You are going to be a good boy today aren’t you ?”
“Mum, I am nearly sixteen so I am not a boy any more.”
“You will always be my little boy.”
Sod that ! “I’m off to school. Bye !”
Is granddad still a diamond dealer ? If he is then will he give me a job ? If he would then I canm forget all about these silly examinations. You do not need to have quakliofications to be a diamond dealer do you ? I mustn’t say that to Pappy Newman when I speak to him about where diamonds come from, he thinks examinations are important. Silly old fool !
“You must write better than this Philip if you want ton be a famous author like you mother.” Mr Wild our English teacher was always going on about my mother. I don’t want to be a famous writer, I want to be a diamond dealer. Anyway I am a blogger and not a writer of sill books.
English. When I am a rich and wealthy diamond dealer I won’t need English will I ? I will be able to afford a secretary.
Second period, Maths. Now I will need Maths to be able to count up all of my money. Granddad, you will help me become rich won’t you ?
Geography with Pappy Newman. Never before have I looked forward to a geography lesson. Never before have I looked forward to a lesson of any sort. This is what happened.
We were all supposed to be sitting at our desks writing something. I got up from my desk and went to pappy. “Excuse me sir, can you tell me something ?”
“And what would that be ? Is it about geography ?”
“Oh yes sir, it is honest. Can you tell me were in the world diamonds come from ?”
“South Africa and some other places, you should know that Mr Philip Johnson.”
“Why do you want to know anyway ? It’s got nothing to do with what you should be writing about now.”
“I want to be a diamond dealer when I leave school. My Granddad is a diamond dealer you know.”
“Is he ?” Pappy was about to dismiss our conversation and send me back to writing. I was not ready for that. “He is Sir, he is Trickie Dickie And The Diamonds.”
“No he is not.”
“Yes Sir, Trickie Dickie And The Diamonds.”
“Trickie Dicke,” Pappy smiled at me, “had nothing to do with diamonds mined from the ground. He was a rock and roll singer, The Diamonds was his backing band.”
“No Sir, honest Sir, he is my Granddad and he is a diamond dealer.”
“Trickie Dickie And the Diamonds was a British rock and roll band, if it was not for The Beatles Trickie Dickie would have been bigger even than Elvis Presley.”
“No sir, he is my granddad and he was a diamond dealer.”
“Go and get on with your work boy !”
Stupid old Pappy Newman but what do you expect from teachers ? Rock and roll singer ? The Beatles ? Elvis Presley ? Pappy Newman you are senile ?
I am Philip’s mother. So my son has started to write a blog. I can not allow the son of an international best selling author to write rubbish with poor grammar and spelling. Nobody will read his blog but just in case they do I am going to hack in every now and then, fix some of his spelling and punctuation but at the same time try to allow him to keep his own style.
Have you read his opening paragraph on Day One of his blog ? Nobody will understand that ! I can’t !
It may be a bit of fun to spy on my youngest son. Perhaps one day I may write a book myself about him.
Trickie Dickie And the Diamonds, yes that was/is my father. A crazy father. Philip (Pip) a crazy son. They would go well together.
DAY FOUR Thursday 20th September 2017
I am going to bunk off school today. I have no choice.
I looked Granddad up on the internet last night. Trickie Dickie And The Diamonds, never mind that Trickie Dickie And The Dickheads ! I need to see him. I am going to bunk off school today.
“Granddad what is a DA ?” He was surprised to see me, I told him it was a teacher training day at school. “Granddad what is a DA ?”
“It’s a ducks arse but you are not old enough to know about that.”
“I know what a duck is,” I said,” and I know what an arse is but why did Wikipedia say you had a DA on your head ? Don’t know about arses but you look a right dickhead in the picture on your page !”
“Has your mother seen it ?”
“Granddad she wouldn’t have a clue what an arse is !”
“That is my daughter you are talking about ! Besides from what t hey tell me about the books she writes she knows what an arse is right enough.”
“A DA is a kind of hairstyle from the rock and roll days.”
“And you had one ?”
“And you were a rock and roll singer ?”
“I was. A good one.”
“My geography teacher at school says that if it had not been for The Beatles you would have been bigger than Elvis Presley.”
“People do say that. Is your teacher a fan of mine then ?”
“He’s old. I can’t see him docking and rolling.”
On Wikipedia it said my granddad was worth an estimated 726 million pounds. I really wish he had been a diamond dealer then I could have done what he did and make myself a lot of money. I aint going to be able to do that singing rock and roll am I ?
“Trickie Dickie and The Dickheads, I mean Trickie Dickie and The Diamonds.”
“In my day Young Pip you would have got a smacked arse for speaking like that !”
“And you would have got a smacked arse for bunking off school.”
“Are you sure you are not a diamond dealer ?”
“No just a rock and roll singer and a guitar player ?”
“Can you sing ?”
“I have never tried.”
“Can you play a guitar ?”
“I’ve never tried.”
“Time to try, time to learn. Come with me.”
We went into a room which had hundreds of pictures all over the wall, all of them were of my granddad and his backing band The Diamonds. “This one,” he said, “is me and Princess Margaret. She was a real rock and roller I can tell you.”
“Who is Princess Margaret ?”
He picked up a guitar and began to play. As he hit the strings he thumped the wood of the guitar with the bit of his hand below the thumb. The sound filled the room. Then he started to sing. Something about three steps to heaven. He was good. Who is “Princess Margaret ?”
“She was the Queen’s younger sister.”
“The Queen is old.”
“And so would be Princess Margaret if she were still alive. She rocked and rolled just a little bit too much. How old are you Pip ?”
“I am fifteen.”
“Of course you are, we share the same birthday don’t we ?”
“Yes, but you were born before me.”
“I began my singing career at the age of fifteen.”
“Did you ?”
“Yes and so did Helen Shapiro, she had a number one hit when she was still at school.”
“What’s a number one hit ?”
“Oh Pip you and your generation are missing out so much.”
He picked up the guitar and started singing again about steps to heaven.
“Here take this and you try.”
“This guitar isn’t like your one Granddad.”
“Mine is a twelve string, that’s a six string you’ve got there. Try it.”
I did. I strummed the strings and to me it sounded ok.
“I’ll sing again, you try to play your guitar and sing with me.”
There are three steps to heaven - Listen and you will plainly see – bomp bomp
“Hey Granddad that was fun.”
“We’ll make a rock and roll singer of you yet.”
“Just so long as I do not have to wear a duck’s arse on my head.”
“Think yourself you are not a girl. Helen Shapiro had a bee hive on her head.”
“I think there is a picture of her with me somewhere on the wall.”
“Is that a wig ?”
“No it’s a bee hive hair do.”
“I’ve got her record – Please don’t treat me like a child – on the juke box. I’ll play nit for you.”
“What’s a juke box ?”
“Pip you are so square !”
DAY FIVE Friday 21st September 2017
I am going to write this blog when I get back from school but I sneaked a look to see how many people read what I wrote yesterday. Five thousand, one hundred and twenty one. That’s good isn’t it.
School was not good. I was summonsed to the headmaster the moment I arrived.
“Philip Johnson you truanted from school yesterday.”
“I am sorry Mr Simson.”
“No good saying sorry. Why did you play truant ?”
“I went to see my Granddad Mr Simpson.”
Nobody is allowed to call our school headmaster Sir, we have to call him Mr Simpson. He is Mr W A Simson – William Arthur Simson but behind his back we all call him WAS.
“Yes, your grandfather, is that your mother’s father ?”
“Well yes Sir.” But what had t hat got to do with him.
“Your father is a doctor isn’t he ?”
“Yes Mr Simson.”
“What does your mother do.”
“Not much, she writes stuff.”
“It says here,” WAS picked up a laptop, “that author Mandy Jones is the daughter of Trickie Dickie and The Diamonds. Is she your mother ?”
“She is Sir, I mean Mr Simpson. Her real name is Amanda Johnson but she pretends to be Mandy Johnson when she writes her books.”
“So Trickie Dickie is your Granddad ? And that was who you went to see yesterday when you played truant from school ?”
“Yes, Mr Simson. Sorry Mr Simson. I won’t do it again.”
“You will do it again and next time you see him will you ask him for his autograph and bring it here to my office.”
“Yes Mr Simson I will but I won’t bunk off school.”
“The name is WAS young Pip. Don’t just stand there bunk off school for a second day and go and see him now !”.
“Yes Sir, I mean Mr Simson, I mean WAS.”
“Just one thing Young Pip, please don’t come to school with a ducks arse on your head !”
This is Mandy Jones again.
So my son Philip, one day I will bring myself to call him Pip, has found out a bit about my father. I will NEVER bring myself to call him Trickie Dickie !
I am going to edit the blog again, just a little so I do not change Pip’s style of writing. There you go ! I’ve done it ! I have called him PIP !
My Mum and Dad only ever had one child. a daughter and that was me. I do not have a daughter but I have three wonderful sons. A parent should not have a favourite but all parents do. I can not reveal who my favourite son is, just to say that his name starts and ends with the letter P.
Richard and Alex will do well at whatever they decide to do after university but what about Pip ? His Dad is an utterly brilliant surgeon and me, my books are always in the Amazon top ten. But if I made it to number one I would never have the bank balance my Dad has. I will also never have the talent my father had.
“Granddad can I have your autograph please ?”
“You bunking off school again ?”
“Yes but I have permission. WAS, that’s Mr Simpson the headmaster said I could bunk off if I came and asked you for your autograph.”
“You want my autograph ?”
“No, not me it’s for the headmaster WAS.”
“So how is the guitar playing coming along ?”
“I haven’t played since I was here yesterday.”
“Why ? Why haven’t you been practicing ?”
“Because I don’t have a guitar at home. Will you give me an autograph for my headmaster ? After all he let me bunk off to come and get it.”
“Yes, of course I will but first let’s go and rock and roll.”
“Granddad autograph ?”
“When I have finished with you Pip it will be your autograph he will want not mine.”
“Is Nan at home Granddad ?”
“No she’s in Barbados getting the house ready for winter. That just leaves you and me to rock and roll.”
You know what, playing the guitar is easy. I think I have inherited it from Trickie Dickie. Mum didn’t inherit it did she ? Can she play the guitar ? Is she a secret rock and roller ? No she aint.
“How old are you Pip ?”
“Fifteen. Almost sixteen.”
“A teenager ?”
“Try this. I’ll sing it through first then you can have a go.”
“Go for it Trickie Dickie.”
“Hey I liked that. Why must I be a teenager in love….”
“Granddad ! What have you done ? That’s a Duck’s Arse on your head !”
“Granddad ? What do you mean granddad ? What are you talking about ? How can I be a granddad, I am only seventeen ?”
“You are fifteen, I am seventeen. I have a duck’s arse on my head. You have a duck’s arse on your head.”
“You what !”
“There’s a mirror over there, go and have a look.”
I am trying to think now as I write this blog how I felt then about my duck’s arse. I don’t have it now, just my own arse but I won’t talk about that.”
“What you have got to learn Pip is there are three things which make up Rock and Roll.”
“I know that Dickie. You are talking about drugs, sex and rock and roll.”
“No I am not ! That is not what Rock and Roll is all about !”
“Oh isn’t it. Borning. I thought….”
“Rock and Roll Pip, if you want to be a Rock and Roll star is the music, the way you look and the way you dance.”
“Where do the sex and drugs fit in ?”
“Pip will you shut up about that and listen ! At fifteen years of age you are not old enough to know about them !”
“You can sing and you can play the guitar. Now you have got your duck’s arse. You have just jot to learn how to move, to dance as you sing and perform.”
As well as that DA haircut Trickie Dickie gave me a suit to wear. With it came a shirt and a tie ? Tie ? The only place you will find a tie are kids and teachers in school. School ! I must remember to grab that autograph from Granddad before I leave. Granddad or Trickie Dickie ? Where were we ? When were we ?
I love playing the guitar and it is so much fun singing. Not sure what my mates at school will think of how I look. Got to work on my dancing a bit.
We had been playing, singing and dancing together for about an hour when Trickie Dickie became my Granddad again and my head returned to normal.
“Take this guitar home with you Pip, play it as much as you can and try to get the moves right. Swing your hips like Elvis Presley.”
“Granddad is it true that people say if it wasn’t for The Beatles you would have been bigger than Elvis Presley ?”
“It is true that people say that but I am not sure it ever would have happened. We can talk about it another time. Go home, practice and swing those hips like Elvis The Pelvis.”
“Just one last thing Granddad.”
“What is that Pip ?”
Can I have you autograph please for WAS ?”
Saturday 22nd September 2017
I got back to school yesterday just as the home bell was ringing. Making my way to WAS’s office my mates said I was in big trouble, bunking off two days running. I knew I wasn’t.
“You took your time didn’t you !”
“Sorry Mr Simson.”
“Well have you got it ?”
“Yes Mr Simson, I’ve got the autograph.”
“Then if you have Pip my name is not Mr Simson, I am WAS.”
I handed him the piece of paper.
“I really can not believe that I have the grandson of Trickie Dickie in my school. Shame you can not sing and play the guitar like he did.”
I can but I wasn’t going to tell him.
That was yesterday. Today is Saturday so I do not need to bunk off. I wonder if Granddad will take me for a ride in his Aston Martin today. I am going to be able to buy myself an Aston Martin you know, yesterday over twenty five thousand people read my blog. Got to find out how to turn that into money.
Anyway I grabbed my guitar gave my bottom a wiggle, dashed out the house before anyone could see me and grabbed the bus to where Granddad lives. I wonder if Nan is back from Barbados yet or is she still in Africa. Which bit of Africa is Barbados ?