My granddad, a man I loved, saw a pair of legs up a tree, in the war. Just legs up a tree, everything else gone. It changed him. How do I feel about winning? How do I feel? I've only just got off my knee and risen to my feet. I can't pass a paper shop without bowing, drive the Farringdon Road without a smile. Thank you, I say and say it again. I've never drawn or written anything worthy of my mum's fridge, never won a thing till this year.
The school were great and the gun didn't pop from the back of my throat. Not a bad word spoken. The girls think Thailand do the best pizzas and chips and we're off to get some. Going away for six months, not a two-week puncture job, time to think, listen and write. Time for the sun to settle on the arm. Time, the biggest luxury of all. Time away from the wheel, the 10 to two push and pull. I'm excited that's what I am, getting away from these yoke-em choke-em times.
I'll leave the airport with red eyes, squits in my pants, irritable, we will have arrived. Now then, do we go left, do we go right? I shall write punctum (a word I like the sound of, but don't know how to use). As for my girls, god knows, the oldest has an affair with a mirror and her hair; she's in the side ponytail gang. She's already got a snarl attached to her lip. I'll let her introduce herself.
I'm Billie, one thing you might as well know about me is I love dogs and mum and dad won't let me have one. I'm nine-years-old and my best friends are Nikita and Courtney. I'm meant to be talking about travelling - I will after this - Britney is my all time favourite I'd love to meet her. Anyway, about travelling, I'm nervous about all the illnesses I'll get. I can't wait to go to Australia and see my cousins, I haven't seen them for years. They're boys and have longer hair than me.
I'm Etta and I'm younger than Billie. I like drawing and sleeping, daddy says I'm good at both. I'm nervous and happy about leaving school. I'm looking forward to all the takings off on the aeroplanes. I want to swim with dolphins and talk in their ears and ride elephants, if I can get on their backs. I wonder what clothes everyone wears.
I'm Tracy, Mark and I met travelling 20 years ago and have been travelling together ever since. I've spent most of that time wiping his arse and tidying up his drivel. I'm 40, bad tempered, an optimistic pessimist, I don't like living in boxes, am about to set myself free. The hard work of letting out our home is over and done with, our prospective route's trimmed, I've ordered the homeopathic remedies, mozzy nets, hypodermic needles etcetera, etcetera, etcetera as the King of Siam would say. As mummy, I've got to try and think of everything. Education, health, clothes, dollies, insurance, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I'm keen to leave the planning behind and just get on with it.
October 21
Ps. I went back to our house for mail. We've rented it out, Midday, didn't recognise the place. A man in a towel, opened the door, Yeah he said.
Ur, I'm the landlord I said. Sounded strange as it came out. He moved back I moved in. I'll get it he said.
I followed, why not, shit, the house had changed, really changed, I was in some sort of pool hall. In the front room a pool table, two players playing, girl on chair smoking, maybe waiting to play, but definitely drinking. They all looked at the landlord, I looked at them.
They passed the mail.
You want to play, one of the stickers said. No, I'm busy, I said. I sort of was. Drink?
And at that moment I felt incredibly old. I'd become a stranger in my own house, too old to drink at midday. Yeah, I said and they passed me the can, afterwards they even waved from the curtains.
You can email Mark with tips and advice at marknetjetter@yahoo.co.uk
