Authors: David Walliams
Billionaire Boy (15 page)
“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.
“D
AD!” 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 still 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.
J
oe ran as fast as he could – which wasn’t that fast, in all honesty. But it felt fast to him. He ran down the long, long drive. Dodged past the guards. Jumped over the wall. Was that wall to keep people out or keep him in? He’d never thought about it before. But there wasn’t time to think about it now. Joe had to run. And keep running.
Joe didn’t know where he was running to. All he knew was where he was running from. He couldn’t live in that stupid house with his stupid dad for one moment longer. Joe ran down the road. All he could hear was his own breath, getting faster and faster. There was a faint taste of blood in his mouth. Now he wished he had tried harder in the school cross-country run.
It was late now. After midnight. The lamp posts pointlessly illuminated the empty little town. Reaching the town centre, Joe slowed to a stop. A lone car crouched in the road. Realising he was alone, Joe suddenly felt a shiver of fear. The reality of his great escape dawned on him. He looked at his reflection in the window of the darkened KFC. A chubby twelve-year-old boy with nowhere to go looked back at him. A police car rolled past slowly and silently. Was it looking for him? Joe hid behind the big plastic bin. The smell of fat and ketchup and hot cardboard was so stomach-churning it almost made him choke. Joe covered his mouth to stifle the sound. He didn’t want the policemen to discover him.
The police car turned a corner and Joe ventured out into the street. Like a hamster that had escaped from its cage, he kept close to the edges and corners. Could he go to Bob’s?
No
, thought Joe. In the exhilaration of meeting Lauren or whatever her stupid name really was, he had badly let down his only friend. Mrs Trafe had been a sympathetic ear, but it turned out she was after his money all along.
How about Raj?
Yes
, thought Joe. He could go and live with the purple-bottomed newsagent. Joe could set up camp behind the fridge. Hidden safely there, Joe could read
Nuts
magazine all day, and feast on slightly out of date confectionery. He couldn’t imagine a more charmed life.
Joe’s mind was racing, and soon his legs were too. He crossed the road and turned left. Raj’s shop was only a few streets away now. Somewhere above him in the black air he heard a distant whirr. The whirr became louder. More of a buzz. Then a drone.
It was a helicopter. A searchlight danced across the streets. Mr Spud’s voice came out of a loudspeaker.
“JOE SPUD, THIS IS YOUR DAD SPEAKING. GIVE YOURSELF UP. I REPEAT, GIVE YOURSELF UP.”
Joe dashed into the entrance of The Body Shop. The searchlight had just missed him. The smell of pineapple and pomegranate body wash and dragonfruit foot scrub pleasingly tickled its way up his nostrils. Hearing the helicopter passing overhead, Joe dashed to the other side of the street, and crept past Pizza Hut, and then Pizza Express, before seeking sanctuary in the doorway of a Domino’s Pizza. Just as he stepped out to make a dash past Bella Pasta, the helicopter whooshed back overhead. Suddenly Joe Spud was caught in the dead centre of the searchlight.
“DON’T MOVE. I REPEAT, DON’T MOVE,”
the voice thundered.
Joe looked up into the light as his body trembled from the force of the rotor blades. “Shove off!” he shouted. “I repeat, shove off!”
“COME HOME NOW, JOE.”
“No.”
“JOE, I SAID…”
“I heard what you said and I’m not coming home. I’m not ever coming home,” shouted Joe. Standing there in the bright light he felt like he was on stage in a particularly dramatic school play. The helicopter whirred overhead for a moment as the loudspeaker crackled in silence.
Then Joe made a run for it, dashing down an alley behind Argos, through the NCP car park, and round the back of Superdrug. Soon the helicopter was nothing more than a distant buzz, no louder than the sleepless birds.
Arriving at Raj’s, Joe knocked gently on the metal shutters. There was no answer, so he banged this time until the shutters shook with the force of his fists. Still no answer. Joe looked at his watch. It was two o’clock in the morning. No wonder Raj wasn’t in his shop.
It looked like Joe would have to be the very first billionaire to ever sleep rough.
“W
hat are you doing in there?”
Joe wasn’t sure if he was awake, or simply dreaming that he was awake. He certainly couldn’t move. His body felt stiff with cold, and every part of him ached. Joe couldn’t open his eyes yet, but knew without doubt that he hadn’t woken up between the silk sheets of his four-poster bed.