Authors: David Walliams
“And the name of the king of France in 1789 was…? Spud?”
“Yes, Miss?” Joe stared at Miss Spite, horrified. He hadn’t been listening at all.
“I asked you a question, boy. You haven’t been paying attention, have you? Do you want to pass your exam?”
“Yes, Miss. I was listening…” stammered Joe. “What is the answer then, boy?” demanded Miss Spite. “Who was the king of France in 1789?”
Joe had no idea. He was pretty sure it wasn’t King Kevin II, or King Craig IV, or King Trevor the Great, because kings didn’t tend to have names like that.
“I am waiting,” pronounced Miss Spite. The bell rang.
I’m saved!
thought Joe.
“The bell is a signal for me, not you!” pronounced Miss Spite. Of course she was going to say that. She lived to say that. It would probably be written on her tombstone. Lauren was sitting behind where Miss Spite was standing, and she suddenly waved at Joe to get his attention. He was confused for a moment, then realised she was trying to help him by miming the answer. First she acted out someone going to the bathroom.
“King Toilet the…?” offered Joe.
The class all burst out laughing. Lauren shook her head. Joe had another try. “King Lavatory?”
They laughed again.
“King Bog?”
They laughed even harder this time.
“King Loo…? Ah, King Louis the…”
“Yes, boy?” Miss Spite continued her interrogation. Behind her Lauren mimed numbers with her fingers.
“King Louis the fifth, the tenth, the fifteenth, sixteen! King Louis the sixteenth!” declared Joe.
Lauren mimed a little clap.
“That’s right, Spud,” said a suspicious Miss Spite, before turning to the board and writing on it. “King Louis the sixteenth.”
Stepping out into the spring sunshine, Joe turned to Lauren. “You totally saved my butt in there.”
“That’s OK. I like you.” She smiled.
“Really…?” asked Joe.
“Yes!”
“Well, then, I wonder if…” Joe stumbled over his words. “If, well…”
“Well, what…?”
“If you, well, I mean you probably wouldn’t, in fact you definitely wouldn’t, I mean, why would you? You are so pretty and I am just a big lump, but…” The words were spiralling out of his mouth in all directions now, and Joe was beginning to blush fiercely with embarrassment. “Well, if you wanted to…”
Lauren took over the speaking for a bit. “If I wanted to go for a walk in the park after school and maybe grab an ice lolly? Yes, I would love to.”
“
Really
?” Joe was incredulous.
“Yes, really.”
“With me?”
“Yes, with you, Joe Potatoe.”
Joe was a hundred times happier than he could ever remember. It didn’t even matter that Lauren thought his last name was Potatoe.
“O
i!”
It had all been going perfectly. Joe and Lauren had been sitting on a park bench eating their lollies from Raj’s shop. Raj could see Joe was trying to impress this girl, and so made a ridiculous fuss of him, giving him a one-penny discount on their lollies, and offering Lauren a free browse of
Now
magazine.
At last, though, they had escaped the newsagent’s shop and found a quiet corner of the park, where they had been talking and talking as the melted red goo of their lollies dribbled down their fingers. They spoke about everything except Joe’s family life. Joe didn’t want to lie to Lauren. He already liked her too much for that. So when she asked him what his parents did he just told her his dad worked in ‘human waste management’ and unsurprisingly Lauren didn’t enquire any further. Joe desperately didn’t want Lauren to know how ridiculously rich he was. Having observed how Sapphire shamelessly used his dad, he knew only too well how money could ruin things.
Everything was perfect… until the sound of that “Oi!” spoiled everything.
The Grubb twins had been hanging around by the swings aching for someone to tell them off. Unfortunately for them, the police, the park-keeper and the local vicar were all otherwise engaged. So when one of them spotted Joe they bounced over grinning, no doubt hoping to relieve their boredom by making someone else’s life a misery for a bit.
“Oi! Give us some more money or we’ll put you in a bin!”
“Who are they talking to?” whispered Lauren.
“Me,” said Joe reluctantly.
“Money!” said a Grubb. “Now!”
Joe reached into his pocket. Maybe if he gave them each a £20 note they would leave him alone, for today at least.
“What are you doing, Joe?” asked Lauren.
“I just thought…” he stammered.
“What’s it to you, slag?” said Grubb One.
Joe looked down at the grass, but Lauren handed Joe what was left of her lolly and rose from the bench. The Grubbs shifted around uneasily. They weren’t expecting a thirteen-year-old girl to literally stand up to them.
“Sit down!” said Grubb Two, as he or she put his or her hand on Lauren’s shoulder to force her down onto the bench. Lauren, however, grabbed his or her hand and twisted it behind his or her back, and then pushed him or her to the ground. The other Grubb charged her, so Lauren leaped into the air and kung-fu kicked him or her to the ground. Then the other one leaped up and tried to grab her, but she karate-chopped him or her on his or her shoulder and he or she raced off screaming in pain.
It really is quite hard writing this when you don’t know someone’s gender.
Joe felt it was about time he did something so he stood up and, his legs shaking in fear, approached the Grubb. It was only then that Joe realised he was still holding two melting ice lollies. The remaining twin stood its ground for a moment, and then when Lauren stood behind Joe he or she ran off, whimpering like a dog.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” said Joe, astounded.
“Oh, I’ve just done a few martial arts classes, here and there,” replied Lauren, a little unconvincingly.
Joe reckoned he might have found his dream girl. Not only could Lauren be his girlfriend, she could be his bodyguard too!
They walked through the park. Joe had walked through it many times before, but today it seemed more beautiful than ever. As the sunlight danced through the leaves on the trees on this Autumn afternoon, for a moment everything in Joe’s life seemed perfect.
“I’d better head home,” Lauren said, as they neared the gate.
Joe tried to hide his disappointment. He could have strolled round the park with Lauren forever.
“Can I buy you lunch tomorrow?” he asked.
Lauren smiled. “You don’t have to buy me anything. I’d love to have lunch with you, though, but I’m paying, you understand?”
“Well, if you really want to,” said Joe. Wow. This girl was too good to be true.
“What’s the school canteen like?” said Lauren.
How could Joe find the words? “Um, well, it’s… it’s great if you are on a very strict diet.”
“I love healthy food!” said Lauren. That wasn’t quite what Joe meant, but it was the best place at school for a date as it was guaranteed to be quiet.
“See you tomorrow then,” said Joe. He closed his eyes and made his lips the shape of a kiss. And waited.
“See you tomorrow Joe,” said Lauren, before skipping off down the path. Joe opened his eyes and smiled. He couldn’t believe it! He had nearly kissed a girl!
There was something very peculiar about Mrs Trafe today. She looked the same but different. As Joe and Lauren approached the serving counter, Joe realised what had changed.
The loose skin on her face had been lifted. Her nose was smaller.
Her teeth were capped.
The lines on her forehead had been erased. Her eye bags had disappeared.
Her wrinkles had gone.
Her breasts were much, much bigger.
But she was still limping.
“Mrs Trafe, you look really… different…” Joe said, staring at her.
“Do I?” replied the old dinner lady with mock innocence. “Now, what do you two fancy today?
Roast bat with all the trimmings? Soap soufflé? Cheese and polystyrene pizza?”
“It’s hard to choose…” faltered Lauren.
“You are new, are you, girl?” asked Mrs Trafe.
“Yes, I just joined the school yesterday,” replied Lauren, surveying the dishes, and trying to work out which one was the least horrible.
“Yesterday? That’s strange. I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before,” said the dinner lady, studying Lauren’s perfect face. “You look very familiar.”
Joe butted in. “Did you have the hip replacement operation yet, Mrs Trafe?” He was becoming increasingly suspicious. “The one I gave you the money for a couple of weeks ago,” he whispered, so Lauren wouldn’t hear.
Mrs Trafe began to jabber nervously. “Um, well, no, not yet dear, why don’t you have a large slice of my very tasty underpant flan…?”
“You spent the money I gave you on plastic surgery, didn’t you?” hissed Joe.
A bead of sweat trickled down her face and plopped into her badger snot soup.
“I am sorry, Joe, I just, well, I just always wanted to have a few things done…” pleaded the dinner lady.
Joe was so furious he felt he had to leave instantly. “Lauren, we’re going,” he announced, and she followed as he stormed out of the dining room. Mrs Trafe limped after them.
“If you could just lend me another £5000, Joe, I promise I’ll have it done this time!” she called after him.
When Lauren finally caught up with Joe, he was sitting alone in the far corner of the playground. She gently put her hand on his head to comfort him.
“What was all that about lending her £5000?” she asked.
Joe looked at Lauren. There was no way of avoiding telling her now. “My dad is Len Spud,” he said sorrowfully. “‘The Bumfresh billionaire’. My name’s not Potatoe. I just said that so you wouldn’t know who I was. The truth is, we’re stupidly rich. But when people find out… it tends to ruin everything.”
“You know what, some of the other kids told me this morning,” said Lauren.
Joe’s sadness lifted for a moment. He reminded himself that Lauren had still gone for an ice lolly with him yesterday when she thought he was just Joe. Maybe it wouldn’t ruin things this time. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
“Because it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about all that. I just like you,” she said.
Joe was so happy he wanted to cry. It’s strange how sometimes you can be so happy it goes all the way around to sadness. “I really like you too.”
Joe moved closer to Lauren. This was the moment to kiss! He closed his eyes and pushed his lips together.
“Not here in the playground, Joe!” Lauren pushed him away laughing.
Joe felt embarrassed he had even tried. “I’m sorry.” He quickly changed the subject. “I was just trying to do something kind for that old bag, and she goes and gets her knockers done!”
“I know, it’s unbelievable.”
“It’s not the money, I don’t care about the money…”
“No, it’s that she took your generosity for granted,” offered Lauren.
Joe looked up to meet her gaze. “Exactly!”
“Come on,” said Lauren. “I think what you need is some chips. I’ll buy you some.”