not hungry, Mum.’
‘Aren’t you feeling well?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Did someone upset you? Something happen when I was away?’
‘Not really… No, nothing.’ I continued to pick at the food, just desperate for the sensation of my dad’s manual against the surface of my fingers once again.
‘Got a boyfriend?’ asked the Bingo Caller, mouth full of fish.
I quickly and angrily shook my head in response. ‘Of course not!’
‘You don’t have to be rude, Lois. We just want to make sure you’re okay,’ said Mum sternly.
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled.
After dinner, I finally got the chance to escape. I turned to page five of The Manual, butterflies break-dancing in my stomach. It simply read:
As you read The Manual, always remember without doubt and without question, I love you… with stars on. Dad.
I closed my eyes and grazed the top of my forehead with my index finger. An image of Dad gently kissing my forehead appeared along with this total feeling of calm replacing all the stuff I had to deal with at school, Mum remarrying…everything washing away like water down a smelly drain.
That night, just before dropping into the land of nod, I whispered:
‘I love you too, Dad. Goodnight.’
And I knew he’d heard.
* * *
Kevin Trivia: I scored a magnificent hat trick to clinch the county cup for my school.
‘What you’re telling us is…’ began Corey as a huge pink bubble grew out of his mouth like a balloon. Pop! ‘Your old man left you a book?’
I’d finally revealed The Manual’s existence outside Lanes Fish Bar.
‘It’s a manual, actually.’
‘So, it’s a manual that follows your life?’ asked Carla.
‘Yep. Every birthday from age twelve until I’m an old lady of thirty.’
‘But you’re twelve already!’ said Carla.
‘You’re not listening. I only got it at my mum’s wedding, so I get to read that entry and then every year until I’m thirty!’
‘Oh, right,’ she replied with a yawn. I nodded my head as Carla scraped strands of silky hair around her perfect ear, which was decorated with a massive hoop earring.
‘Bummer, Lo Bag, another book to read,’ said Corey, chewing furiously on the gum.
‘Can you not call me that?’ I asked – although I knew it was pointless, considering he’d been referring to me as ‘Lo Bag’ since, like, forever. As I explained about The Manual AGAIN, Corey’s index finger disappeared almost whole into his left ear as Carla stifled yet another yawn.
‘He gives me advice and stuff…’
‘So, what you’re saying is, your dad tells you what to do even though he’s dead?’ asked Corey, eyes searching the street ahead for his mates who were meeting him in ten minutes.
‘No…not really…’ I replied defensively.
‘Bummer,’ he added again anyway as Carla shook her head in apparent agreement with her brother. I sighed inwardly, disappointed that my friends found it so difficult to understand my new situation. But then, I couldn’t really expect them to.
An offensive bang on the chip-shop window interrupted our conversation.
‘Hey you kids, buzz off if you ain’t buying anything! Bloody loiterers!’
‘Charming!’ I said.
‘Sod off!’ shouted my friends as Corey placed two middle fingers firmly against the smeared window. Feeling a little left out, I spat a weak, ‘No, you buzz off!’ in the proprietor’s direction as I followed my friends across the road. My weak attempt at rebellion before the usual indignity of school the next day.
So the countdown begins. Bet you can’t wait to officially become a teenager. If only you knew that one day you’ll realise turning your clock back every winter is not enough. You’ll want another five, ten, twenty years back soon. But I won’t bore you with that right now, I may come back to it later. For now, it’s my hope you’ll manage to do one thing this year you’ll remember for ever and ever.
Can you think of anything?
Dad will give you a clue.
When I was twelve, I remember my dad taking me kite-flying for the very first time. It was a great day. The sun was shining brightly and I had to really squint as my eyes chased the red and blue kite floating in the sky. I was exhausted by the end of it all – so much so that when I chased the ice-cream van, I found I couldn’t catch up. I was so angry, while my dad was in fits! But that was okay because I was out with my dad, being boys, being free… just me and him and away from Philomena, Ina and Mum. I’ve never forgotten that day – even now at my age – because it was one of the last times I really remember feeling like a kid.
I know we can’t have those days together, but I really hope you and your mum have taken time out to make some lovely lasting memories of your own. Even so, I want you to make one more lasting memory this year.
Promise?
*
I searched my brain, tackling the events of the past year: Mum getting serious with then marrying the Bingo Caller; her constantly having a go at me; being marched up to the local market and suffering the very public indignity of picking out a ‘training bra’. Frankly, it had been a rubbish year, but I owed it to Dad to do ‘something to remember’ before I hit thirteen.
I mentioned it to Carla that evening.
‘We could go ice skating,’ she offered unhelpfully. Since getting her hair cut even shorter last week she’d decided to switch identities and was now all sophisticated – and stupid. I wondered what would happen if I took the scissors to my own mass of frizz. Nevertheless, I loved being around her and the family, as without them I’d be stuck at home with Mr and Mrs Boring. Popping round for Sunday lunch reminded me what a normal family could be like. Her mum was not only as beautiful as any movie star, she knew about stuff I cared about and dressed really good. Even Carla’s dad was quite good-looking – if you liked geriatrics (he was at least thirty-five). And apart from Corey disappearing to the moon minus a return ticket, Carla mostly got
