Snow Balls (Ball Games #2) (6 page)

'And where is that?'

'WH Smith?'

'
Our
WH Smiths, just down the street?'

'That's right.'

'Oh, I must look for you. Did you just start there?'

What? I've served you about three hundred times.

'No. I've been there nine years, but I’m usually in the back office. That’s why you’ve not seen me.' I lie.

'Okay and full-time yes?'

'No. Three days a week.'

'Oh.' She looks at me with a downcast expression.

'I'm increasing my hours to full-time soon. My employers keep begging me, but I've resisted so far.'

She runs her hands through her hair. 'Why do you not want to work full-time?'

Think—quick, Ty
.

'I'm a You-tuber.’ I almost shout. ‘So I've been putting my energies into that, getting my gaming career off the ground.'
Omg, I'm surprised my nose hasn't grown three feet.

‘Like Joe Sugg?'

'More like JackSepticEye.'

'Oh. I’ve not heard of him. I know Joe Sugg as I follow his sister, Zoella. You heard of her?'

'Yeah, sure.'

She tucks her fringe behind her ear. 'Gosh, are you going to be famous? You can make a ton of money from endorsements, can't you?'

'You can, but at the moment, I'm investing in equipment and getting organised. The channel isn't actually set up yet.'

'Oh. Well, self-employment is a minefield with mortgage applications so we'll leave it off your application for now.'

'Okay.' I sigh in relief.

'How much deposit do you have to put down?'

'Do I need one?'

She looks at me, her brow creased. 'You don't have a deposit?'

'Well, I would….. but I’ve invested in equipment.'

'So you don't have any money?'

'Well, not so much now, but pretty soon I'll be raking it in through my channel, and I’ll have extra hours at work soon. I do okay, you know? I have plenty of cash as I don't have rent or a mortgage at the minute.'

She clicks some keys then swivels in her chair towards me. She crosses one long leg over the other. God, I’d like them around my waist. Or my neck.

She picks up a pen and taps it on the desk. 'I'm going to be honest with you, Tyler. With no deposit and part-time earnings, we can't offer you a mortgage. My advice would be to rent or increase your hours, get your channel up and running and come back to see me when those earnings start to mount up and you have a deposit.'

I look at my feet. 'Right. Okay. Well, thanks for checking anyway.'

'No problem. I'll see you when I'm next in Smiths, yeah?'

'Yeah. Unless of course, you'd like to, well, come out on a date with me sometime?'
Where did that come from? You go, guy. Ask while you have the chance.

She scratches the side of her nose. 'Oh. Well, I'm a little busy at the moment and you need to get some money together for your house. How about you ask me in about a month or so? Yeah? When you're on your feet more.'

Oh my God, I've kind of got a yes.

I beam. 'Sure. Thanks for everything Jennifer. I'll make another appointment when I've got myself sorted.'

'Great. See you then.'

I almost skip out of Henderson's Bank.

'No, you most certainly cannot have a pocket money card at twenty-five. You're twelve years too late, Tyler.'

My mother is so mean. When we were younger, she gave Camille and me a card. You got paid so much for every job you did around the house. Then at the end of the week, you were given your earnings. Camille did as many of the tasks as she could. I did none. Camille bought magazines and lipsticks with hers. I got pocket money from my grandparents anyway so didn't need to earn any more. Now though. Now when I need it, she's being obstructive.

'Tyler. If you need extra money, increase your hours at work.'

'But I need to buy some equipment to set up my YouTube channel. Then I'll get endorsements. What about a loan? I could pay you back.'

My mum stands for a moment with her eyes closed and takes a deep breath. 'No. You need proper work—like Smiths, Tyler, not stupid internet crap. You're wasting your time and money. It's like trying to be a rockstar. Only a few make it. There are a lot of guitars left around houses gathering dust. Anyway, I thought you were asking Donna for extra hours?’

Fuck, she remembers everything that woman.

'Yes, but I need as much money as I can get.’ I go for broke. ‘I'll clean the cupboard under the stairs.'

My mother hates this room. She's shit scared of spiders. I see her chew on her lip.

'What about ironing? You can teach me. I know you hate it.'

She taps the fingers of one hand on the other. 'Fine.'

'I want a card drawing up.'

My mother shakes her head but goes off in search of a piece of paper and a pen. She makes me draw up a list of chores. I can earn twenty quid a week.

‘If you tell your father about this, I’ll deny all knowledge and you won't get paid. He only agrees with me working part-time because I do the housework.’

‘Mum’s the word.’ I'd like to see him try to get my mum to work any extra hours though.

At the weekend, I set up my channel—TylerNation—and record my first episode of me playing Alien Combat. By Monday morning when I set off to work I've had eight views. Surely they'll grow steadily until I get to my first million?

Once at work, I meet with Donna and ask to increase my hours. She’s well pleased. 'That's fantastic, Tyler. Your experience here will make things smoother. Keep your head down and work hard. There might be an Assistant Manager post coming up shortly.'

I meet Lindsay in the break room.

'What's with your face?' she asks me. 'It's Monday morning and you're like… smiling.'

'You are looking at a full-time employee. Potential management material.'

'What?'

I tell her about my conversation with Donna.

'I've been here as long as you and I'm already full-time. She's not mentioned any management post to me. Bitch.'

'Now, now. She's probably just found out about it. I'm sure you would have been the main contender for it until I increased my hours.'

'What do you mean? I'm
still
the main contender for it. I've worked more hours than you for years.'

‘True.’ I shake my head in agreement because I know better than to take on Lindsay in an argument. She's gone puce in the face. It’s obviously that time of the month again.

'Going back to why I'm happy. I'm full-time. Also, I have my own YouTube channel. I'll get approved for a mortgage next month and then I’ll be taking Jennifer Lambert on a date.'

Lindsay raises an eyebrow. 'Well fuck me. What a busy few days off you've had.'

'Indeed.'

'Except I thought you weren't moving out?'

'I'm not.'

'So why go full-time to get a mortgage application approved?'

'So I can see Jennifer and agree on where we're going for a date.'

Lindsay looks at her watch, 'Oh look, break time’s over. What a shame I was enjoying watching your descent into madness.'

I stick out my tongue. 'You're just jealous.'

Lindsay gathers her petite frame, shoulders lifting.

Ah, fuck.

'Jealous? Me? What of exactly? Jennifer Lambert?'

'No. Er.'

'The job?'

Christ alive. I'm toast if I don't think of something.

'My YouTube channel.'

Her shoulders relax. 'What?'

'You know nothing about them. I think you're annoyed that I’ll make a stack of money and leave Smiths.'

'Yeah, that's right.' She rolls her eyes but her shoulders tense. 'I could make a channel and show any old shit. Bet I'd get more viewers than you.'

'Oh yeah? What would you be willing to bet?'

'Erm, twenty quid?'

'Deal.'

'Fine.'

'Okay. Let's make the deadline the end of March as that's when my bet with Camille ends.'

'What bet’s that?'

'She thinks I won't get Mum and Dad to let me stay living at theirs.'

'I can't follow all your crazy. I can't.'

'So the last day of March, at eight pm. That's when we'll see who has the most followers on our channels. I'm bringing out the IOU paper, Lindsay. To add insult to injury you've got to take me out for some food.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

We go back to the store.

Chapter Five

A month of full-time work, doing housework and adding to my Vlog has me absolutely fucking knackered. I can’t help thinking this is a lot of effort to get a date with a bird.

Meanwhile, my mother is basking in my father's rare adulation about the house being in peak condition. Not bad for her not lifting a finger.

My parents summon me into the lounge for a meeting. No doubt a parental update as there are six weeks before my eviction.

'So I've been mulling things over, Tyler,' says my father, 'and your mother agrees with me on this.’

My mother nods.

‘We’ve seen the effort you’re putting in to get approved for a mortgage and well, we didn't realise you'd need such a big deposit. In our day, there were one hundred percent mortgages and it only cost twenty-two grand for our house. Anyway, you can have some money out of your savings account. It was supposed to be towards your wedding but seeing as you're twenty-five with no woman in sight, we figured you could have less for your special day and we'll give you some of it now.'

The wedding fund was previously a University fund. Basically, Camille got given ten grand when she went to University and I got a big fat fuck all. Our parents said it was for investment. I know they thought I'd spend it on music and gaming equipment. I proved them right when I got my Gran’s inheritance and did exactly that. So then it became The Wedding Fund, because of course, all blokes dream of one of those.
I have no fucks to give if I’m in a Dolce and Gabbana suit or a Primark on the big day. That’s if I even get married. I keep telling them that. It's a piece of bloody paper you have to stand up in the Town Hall for, or a Church, like a prize wanker. No thanks. I wouldn’t mind but my parents aren’t married. My mother says I can’t be that nasty to my future wife, and then she’ll glare at my Dad. I think that’s the only thing he’s stood his ground about.

'So,' says my mother. 'We will give you ten thousand pounds as a deposit, but only if you proceed with a mortgage. Otherwise, it will remain in the account.'

I want to jump up and kiss them. I won't need it cos I'm not going anywhere but they don't need to know that do they? It means I can get my mortgage acceptance letter and my girl. Result.

'That's fantastic. Thank you so much. I really appreciate this. I can get my mortgage acceptance letter now.' I shake my Dad's hand and pull my mother forward into a hug.

They smile at each other. Big beams like they have this parenting lark sussed. My dad stands ready to leave the room, 'Well. Time for a beer. Do you want one son?'

'No thanks, Dad. I've got an early start tomorrow.'

'Dora? Do you want anything?'

'No, love, I'm fine.'

He leaves the room.

Mum taps my arm. 'Well, I’m quite astonished at the difference in you, Tyler. Working hard and becoming responsible. I thought you’d argue about it much more than you have.'

'It’s very kind you offering the money for a deposit, Mum.'

'Oh, thank your sister. It was her suggestion.'

That devious cow. Part of trying to win the bet no doubt.

‘Yes. Another six weeks or so and I might be out of here. It'll be great for me, but not so much for you, Mum.'

'Oh,' she creases her forehead. 'Why?'

'Well, you’ll have the housework to do again and Dad's really happy with the current standards. Anyway, I'm turning in now, night.' I kiss her cheek.

I take a quick peek at my Mum’s face as I leave the room. She's looking around the lounge and sighing. Hahaha. Tyler - 1, Mum - 0. Another result.

'Will you record me for my YouTube channel this lunch time?' I get on my knees in front of Lindsay and pretend to beg like a dog.

'Is that not helping you? Which will make me lose my bet.'

'Nah. It's just recording. If you don't help, I'll just get someone else to do it anyway. I want to do a few scenes out and about in Rotherham centre. Get my face known.'

She sighs. 'Alright then. How many followers are you at so far?'

'I'm not telling you until the grand reveal.'

'Fine.'

I'm not telling her because I have twelve. The new four are workers from Smiths that I made sign up last week because I'd had no new subscribers whatsoever.

I elbow Lindsay. 'What's your channel about anyway? What’s my competition?'

'I'm filming my hamster and trying to get him to do something funny. I want to make him famous, like Grumpy Cat. Only so far he's not done anything.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘I'm not telling you how many subscribers I have or what my channel’s called but I wouldn’t worry about me being a threat at the moment. I'm working on it though. Do you think there's an equivalent of catnip for hamsters?'

I shrug. 'Dunno. Anyway, how was your weekend?'

'Okay. Drank too much as usual.’

She puts a magazine on the shelf and hands me some to do the same. ‘I'm getting bored going out with my mates now, you know. Feeling like shit every Sunday morning. I'm twenty-five. I need to grow up. Christ, pass me that
Knitting Monthly
so I can subscribe. I’m old. What about you? What did you do?'

'Same. As in I went out with the lads and played Pool. Had a few beers, but got a lie in on Sunday so was fine by the time I woke up.'

She pauses, magazine in hand. 'Don't you get bored with the same old, same old? Wish for a bit more in your life?'

'Nah. I enjoy myself.'

Lindsay turns away from me sighing. 'Well, I'd best get on. See you at lunch.'

'It's a date,' I say.

‘What?’ She frowns.

'You know what I mean,' I reply.

'I sure do.' She walks off.

God, she's moody lately.