Billionaire Boy (5 page)

Blob

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“BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!”

The chants grew louder and louder.

“BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!”

They started clapping in time now.

“BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB! BLOB! BLOB!
BLOB! BLOB!”

Undeterred, Bob hurled his body across the finish line.

“HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!
HA! HA! HA! HA! HA!”

The other kids fell around laughing, pointing at Bob, as he bent over and panted for breath.

Turning around, Joe felt a sudden twinge of guilt. As the school kids dispersed, he went over to Bob and helped him stand up straight.

“Thanks,” said Joe.

“You’re welcome,” said Bob. “To be honest I should have done that anyway. If you came last on your very first day, you’d never hear the end of it. But next year you’re on your own. I don’t care if you give me a million pounds – I ain’t coming last again!”

Joe thought about his two-million-pound birthday cheque. “What about two million pounds?” he joked.

“Deal!” said Bob, laughing. “Imagine if you really did have that much money. It would be crazy! I guess you could have everything you ever wanted!”

Joe forced a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe...”

Chapter 4
“Loo Rolls?”

“So, did you forget your kit on purpose?” asked Joe.

Mr Bruise had locked up the changing rooms by the time Joe and Bob had finished their cross-country run… well, cross-country walk. They stood outside the grey concrete building, Bob shivering in his pants. They’d already been to find the school secretary, but there was absolutely no one left in the whole place. Well, apart from the caretaker. Who didn’t seem to speak English. Or any other language for that matter.

“No,” replied Bob, a little hurt at the suggestion. “I may not be the fastest runner, but I’m not that much of a coward.”

They trudged through the school grounds, Joe in his singlet and shorts, and Bob in his vest and pants. They looked like two rejects from a boy band audition.

“So who took it?” said Joe.

“I dunno. It might be the Grubbs. They’re the school bullies.”

“The Grubbs?”

“Yeah. They’re twins.”

“Oh,” said Joe. “I haven’t met them yet.”

“You will,” replied Bob, dolefully. “You know, I feel really bad about taking your birthday money off you…”

“You don’t have to,” said Joe. “It’s fine.”

“But fifty pounds is a lot of money,” Bob protested.

Fifty pounds was not a lot of money to the Spuds. Here are a few things Joe and his dad would do with fifty-pound notes:

• Light them instead of bits of old newspaper to get the barbecue going
  
• Keep a pad of them by the telephone and use them as post-it notes
  
• Line the hamster cage with handfuls of them and then throw them out after a week when they began to smell of hamster wee
  

• Let the same hamster use one as a towel after it’s had a shower
  
• Filter coffee through them
  
• Make paper hats out of them to wear on Christmas Day
  
• Blow their noses on them
  
• Spit chewed-up chewing gum into them before crumpling them and placing them in the hand of a butler who would then put them in the hand of a footman who would then put them in the hand of a maid who would then put them in the bin
  
• Make paper aeroplanes out of them and throw them at each other
  
• Wallpaper the downstairs loo with them
  

“I never asked,” said Bob. “What does your dad do?”

Joe panicked for a moment. “Erm, he, er, he makes loo rolls,” he said, only lying a tiny bit.

“
Loo rolls
?” said Bob. He couldn’t suppress his smile.

“Yes,” replied Joe defiantly. “He makes loo rolls.”

Bob stopped smiling. “That doesn’t sound like it pays all that well.”

Joe winced. “Er… no, it doesn’t.”

“Then I guess your dad had to save for weeks to give you £50. Here you go.” Bob carefully handed the now-slightly-crumpled fifty-pound note back to Joe.

“No, you keep it,” protested Joe.

Bob pressed the note into Joe’s hand. “It’s your birthday money. You keep it.”

Joe smiled uncertainly and closed his hand over the money. “Thank you, Bob. So, what does
your
dad do?”

“My dad died last year.”

They continued walking in silence for a moment. All Joe could hear was the sound of his heart beating. He couldn’t think of anything to say. All he knew was that he felt awful for his new friend. Then he remembered that when someone died people sometimes said, ‘I’m sorry’.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” said Bob.

“I mean, well, I’m sorry he died.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“How did he… you know?”

“Cancer. It was really scary. He just got more and more ill and then one day they took me out of school and I went to the hospital. We sat by his bed for ages and you could hear his breath rattling and then suddenly the sound just stopped. I ran outside to get the nurse and she came in and said he was ‘gone’. It’s just me and my mum now.”

“What does your mum do?”

“She works at Tesco. On the checkout. That’s where she met my dad. He would shop on Saturday mornings. He used to joke that he ‘only came in for a pint of milk but left with a wife!’”

“It sounds like he was funny,” said Joe.

“He was,” said Bob, smiling. “Mum’s got another job too. She’s a cleaner at an old people’s home in the evenings. Just to make ends meet.”

“Wow,” said Joe. “Doesn’t she get tired?”

“Yeah,” said Bob. “So I do a lot of the cleaning and stuff.”

Joe felt really sorry for Bob. Since he was eight, Joe had never had to do anything at home – there was always the butler or the maid or the gardener or the chauffeur or whoever to do everything. He took the note out of his pocket. If there was one person who needed the money more than him it was Bob. “Please, Bob, keep the £50.”

“No. I don’t want to. I’d feel bad.”

“Well, let me at least buy you some chocolate.”

“You’ve got a deal,” said Bob. “Let’s go to Raj’s.”

Chapter 5
Out of Date Easter Eggs

D
IN
G!

No, reader, that’s not your doorbell. No need to get up. It’s the sound of the bell tinkling in Raj’s shop as Bob and Joe opened the door.

“Ah, Bob! My favourite customer!” said Raj. “Welcome, welcome!”

Raj ran the local newsagent’s shop. All the local kids adored him. He was like the funny uncle you always wished you had. And even better than that, he sold sweets.

“Hi, Raj!” said Bob. “This is Joe.”

“Hello Joe,” exclaimed Raj. “Two fat boys in my shop at one time! The Lord must be smiling on me today! Why have you both got so little on?”

“We came straight from cross-country running, Raj,” explained Bob.

“Fantastic! How did you do?”

“First and second…” replied Bob.

“That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Raj.

“…to last,” finished Bob.

“That’s not so good. But I imagine you boys must be hungry after all that exercise. How can I help you today?”

“We’d like to buy some chocolate,” said Joe.

“Well, you have come to the right place. I have the finest selection of chocolate bars in this parade!” Raj announced triumphantly. Considering the only other shops in the parade were a launderette and a long since closed florist that wasn’t saying much, but the boys let it pass.

Now, one thing Joe knew for certain was that chocolate didn’t have to be expensive to taste nice. In fact, after a few years of gorging themselves on the finest chocolates from Belgium or Switzerland, he and his dad had realised that they weren’t half as delicious as a Yorkie. Or a bag of Minstrels.

Or, for the true connoisseur, a Double Decker.

“Well, let me know if I can help you gentlemen,” said the newsagent. The stock in Raj’s shop was haphazardly laid out. Why was
Nuts
magazine next to the Tipp-ex? If you couldn’t find the Jelly Tots, it was entirely possible that they might be hiding under a copy of the
Sun
from 1982. And did the post-it notes really have to be in the freezer?

However, local people kept coming to the shop because they loved Raj, and he loved his customers too, particularly Bob. Bob was one of his absolute best customers.

“We are happy just to browse thanks,” replied Bob. He was studying the rows and rows of confectionery, looking for something special. And today money wasn’t a problem. Joe had a fifty-pound note in his pocket. They could even afford one of Raj’s out of date Easter eggs.

“The Wispas are very good today, young Sirs. Fresh in this morning,” ventured Raj.

“We are just looking thank you,” replied Bob politely.

“The Cadbury’s Creme Eggs are in season,” suggested the newsagent.

“Thank you,” said Joe politely, smiling.

“Just to say, gentlemen, I am here to help,” said Raj. “If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“We will,” said Joe.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Just to let you know the Flake is off today, Sirs,” continued Raj. “I should have said. A problem with the supplier, but I should have them back on sale tomorrow.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” said Bob. He and Joe shared a look. They were beginning to wish the newsagent would let them shop in peace.

“I can recommend a Ripple. I had one earlier and they are exquisite at the moment.”

Joe nodded politely.

“I’ll leave you alone to make up your own mind. As I say, I am here to help.”

“Can I have one of these?” said Bob, lifting up a giant bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk to show Joe.

Joe laughed. “Of course you can!”

“An excellent choice, gentlemen. I have those on special offer today. Buy ten get one free,” said Raj.