Where Did It All Go Right? (31 page)

The big day came on 29 November (quite a way into that all-important first term). Dad bought me home a Leeds scarf. Yellow with blue and white stripes, it cost £2.20 and was pocket money well spent. This was my ticket to acceptance. I remember the first day I wore it, a frosty Tuesday, walking from the bike sheds to class flushed with a mixture of self-conscious guilt and genuine pride in my new colours. I had changed my stripes.

Miss Chapman groaned and said, without malice, ‘Oh you don’t support Leeds as well do you?’

‘Yes,’ I replied, aware that the tribal council were watching me. They were unable to mock. They didn’t exactly proffer me an approving nod or kick Chris Bradshaw off his seat and offer it to me, but their artificial allegiance to the yellow, white and blue was so strong, they had to respect my choice. (They had no idea I supported Liverpool a few weeks earlier, as I had never worn a red scarf. For all they knew I had been an LUFC man all my life.)

This was an important stage in my development. I was now a Leeds fan for the sake of cultural homogeny and it felt good. I covered one of my exercise books with a picture of a Leeds player (I forget which, possibly Parlane or Hird) and monitored their progress each week in case I should ever fall into conversation with the firm.
⁵
I never did – it wasn’t that kind of acceptance. It’s not as if they had been bullying or picking on me before – Burns took all that heat with his dodgy leg – I just needed to be able to hold my head up in their company; to not be a poof or a creep or a swot. I saw Kev Bailey after school once or twice, but that was as close as I ever got to the hard kids’ manor.

Offering up my Leeds mug after Christmas had marked a new dawn. At the start of 1979 I put all childish things behind me. I started buying seven-inch singles with my pocket money, and grown-up magazines like
Film Review
and
New Musical Express
. I made new schoolfriends from outside 3CN, like Pete Sawtell, Matthew Allen, Craig McKenna, Andy Howkins, Dave Griffiths – real and lasting friends, among whom I could be myself.

Once O-level options dominated the timetable, my time spent in the same room as Bill, Lee, Si and Gaz became limited to registration, PE and the odd design class. I could handle that. They even started talking to me when they discovered I could draw scurrilous
caricatures
of the teachers to order. Alan Evans, a behemoth
⁶
who operated in their anti-authoritarian orbit, and ruddy sidekick Dougie Lines once asked me to help them with their maths homework (they were in a lower stream) – they probably thought they were
getting
me to do it for them, but they weren’t. There were no heavy manners. I did it as a favour. I think they even thanked me. Probably called me ‘Collins’ but I could live with that. Chris Bradshaw and I bonded at the shallow end of the swimming pool – neither of us could swim. He proudly showed me that he had hair on his toes. What a man.

In fact, all this bare-faced assimilation actually loosened me up a bit as an individual. Wearing trainers for lessons even though it’s against school rules, for instance (what harm is there in that?). Forgetting to do up my top button. Getting caught reading
Cracked
magazine by Mr Twinn in maths. Going to school discos and only dancing to the punk songs. After all, nobody likes a square.

Ah yes, punk rock. It came to Northampton late, predictably enough. And can you guess who Weston Favell’s first punks were? Bill, Lee, Si and Gaz.

1
. My school reports for Abington Vale Middle make me blush. I appear to have had two days off sick in three years, and the teachers’ comments vary all the way from ‘Andrew has worked with great enthusiasm and skill throughout the year’ to ‘Andrew has worked conscientiously and consistently throughout the year’. I am commended for my uniform by form teacher Mrs Dennison (‘Excellent. Neat and tidy appearance’) and they even say I am ‘making steady progress’ in PE!

2
. I use the insensitive vernacular only for evocative effect. Spastic was the accepted term for the mentally and physically handicapped at the time, and kids are cruel, cruel bastards. We also used ‘flid’ as an insult, derived from Thalidomide, often accompanied by a short-armed mime. Joey Deacon – handicapped, book-dictating hero of
Blue Peter
– greatly influenced the generic playground impersonation for ‘spaz’, tongue behind bottom lip, that sort of drill. If I could go back and live my childhood again, I would, but I fear I would exhibit exactly the same shallow, unhelpful view towards the disabled. At least by Weston Favell I had faced down my
fear
of the handicapped. At primary school I was literally frightened of spastics. It was a basic aversion to something I didn’t understand, a form of innate xenophobia, I guess. I was scared of my own human fallibility. Mrs Munro’s boy, Steven, frequently came to school (he went to a ‘special school’): partially sighted with huge milk-bottle glasses, he was deaf too, which meant he spoke in a foreign tongue and loudly. I as good as hid from him. More fool me.

Then, at middle school, by befriending Nigel Wilson I was forced to deal with my irrational distaste. He had an older brother, severely handicapped by cruel palsy, whose life was spent in a wheelchair being fed, watered and changed. His was a constant, dominant presence in Nigel’s house, but not a negative one. I learned from him some important lessons about humanity and dignity. Mrs Wilson understood him alright, so why shouldn’t I? He was just Nigel’s brother, not some kind of special case, and not a monster.

I think he died, but not in vain. It’s a pity I forgot all about him when I used the word ‘spaz’ at Weston Favell.

3
. I have changed his name. I hope he grew up to be happy. He deserves it after what must have been a hellish time at Weston Favell. He once actually wet himself while doing long jump – that’s in
white
shorts everybody – and no kid should have to go through that.

4
. As a born-again birder and RSPB member, I look back on this brief ornithological flirt with pride, although it had little precedent. My only field trip, to Ecton Brook on 24 October 1978, has been vigilantly recorded in a xeroxed form, with the following bird types ticked off: grey heron, red crested pochard, mute swan, quail, moorhen, coot, lapwing, herring gull, black-headed gull, skylark, carrion crow, hooded crow, great tit, blue tit, wren, mistle thrush, song thrush, blackbird, robin, dunnock, pied wagtail, grey wagtail, starling, greenfinch, goldfinch, bullfinch, chaffinch, reed bunting, house sparrow, tree sparrow. Bloody impressive, although I’m prepared to put one or two of those down to overenthusiasm and misidentification.

5
. My devotion to Leeds continued long after my desire to get in with the hard kids. I doggedly recorded their scores throughout 1979, 1980 and 1981, even noting cancellations, such as the match against West Brom on 25 April 1981 due to snow. This was a genuine, healthy interest (12 September 1981: ‘Leeds ****ing lost 4–0 to Coventry. It’s a joke! Paul Hart has got appendicitis’) although it seems to fade in 1982. Mind you I
was
gay that year.

6
. The first boy in our year to show pubic hair. Any bodily hair, in fact. But any latent pubescent jealousy was curtailed by the fact that he was the school fat lad.

1978

Selected Extracts From My Diary

I SUPPOSE I
thought I was being clever when I took to the cover of this bright red Collins diary with a hole punch Dad had brought home from work. It is subsequently full of holes. I have tried to justify this act of self-abuse by writing ‘It’s a holy diary, lads’ in black marker (very funny) but that only makes aesthetic matters worse. There is also a nature sticker depicting a rock wallaby
.

It’s a tatty artefact all round, 1978. Scribbly entries, lazy, rudimentary drawings, torn pages, felt-tip smudged by spit, and a sinister new development brought on by the onset of the teen years: dishonest tampering with the text. Stalin, however, would not have been proud of me – these rewrites are generally done in a different coloured pen! Who was I intending to fool? Myself? The police? They start to occur in May, when – and there’s no way round this – I become really interested in girls. My ever-changing loyalties, from Jackie Needham to Hayley Mayo, Anita Barker and back again, necessitate some glaring felt-pen revisionism. For the purposes of record, I shall transcribe the original words
.

It’s all in capital letters now, and a declaration before the defaced title page lists some of my favourite things: rock wallabies, wombats, The Boomtown Rats, ELO, RSPB, girls
, Grease,
Lynda Carter
, Roots,
Monty Python, Olivia Newton John, kangaroo mice, hare wallabies, etc
.

Saturday, 7 January

Went to Pap Collins’ party. Jane and Paul also went. We did a show to all the grown-ups, including: impressions (I did Shirley Bassey and Uncle Punk),
¹
Miss World 1978, plus Cinderella (I
was
the Fairy Godmother and the Prince). Dad got me
Mad
magazine. Pap bought me a Northampton diary and an invisible ink pen.

Wednesday, 25 January

Yahoo! A fab day. All the 4th year went in four coaches to Coventry to the Belgrade Theatre to see
Mother Goose
. Sounds pouffy but was absolutely ace. Reg Dixon, Ellis Jones and Carol Cleveland were in it. Then we came home at 6.00. I had some snack soup and Dad took me to squash. He beat the other bloke 3–1 easy.

Tuesday, 26 January

Yesterday Heidi got Ellis Jones’s autograph and I chatted her up today
²
and she gave it to me. Ha. Did it ever occur to you that I am made of gold?

Friday, 3 February

Attempted to chat up Anita more. Not much use though. I’m getting her a Valentines card. That might help. No heating on at school. Everyone went around with their coats on all day. Brill laugh.

Sunday, 5 February

Played Lego demolition derbies but when I cut my finger really badly I went all dizzy and nearly passed out. Swoon. Started making a new comic called
Ace!

Thursday, 9 February

I started chatting up Tracey Allen.
³
Much better than chatting up Anita. Lots of homework. Huh! Mum and Dad went to the school this evening to get our reports.

Wednesday, 22 February

Oh goody! Because of no oil we’ve got tomorrow off school as well. Ace! Angus came this morning. Dad took us three to the library. I got a skateboarding book, a book about mammals, a book about film make-up and a Tony Hancock book. Magic. Magic.

Sunday, 26 February

Great! Dad cleared our room out completely and rearranged it and it is fab. Here is a news flash … I have gone mad on
Star Wars
. Luke Skywalker rules! Darth Vader lives. See-Threepio is king. So is Artoo-Detoo. Chewbacca is magic.
Star Wars
is ace!

Saturday, 4 March

It is actually my birthday. World celebrations. Magic! I got:
Monty Python
LP,
Star Wars
poster,
Star Wars
transfer,
Star Wars
book,
Star Wars
badges, skateboarding book, Asterix book, two cassettes, cassette cleaner, autograph book,
Clapperboard Film Quiz Book
etc. and £2.00 left. Angus came for a late night meal (gammon, duchess potatoes,
⁴
gooseberry fool, cider) and he slept.

Wednesday, 8 March

Mrs Dennison took our form (4–1) to the Lings cinema to see
To Kill A Mockingbird
. It was in black and white and it was crap BUT I sat next to Tracey Allen. Didn’t do anything though.
⁵
Huh!

Wednesday, 13 March
MARBLE SEASON STARTS

We had no homework. Good. The teachers are on a ‘work to rule’ strike this week. They HAVE to leave the school premises at dinnertime or the coach will turn back into a pumpkin and there is no school dindins. HOOOORRRAAAYY! Once more innocent school children may live.

Saturday, 1 April

This is not an April Fool. Went shopping. Dad and Mum bought an ace Sony (£300) music centre. It is fabdiferousticlousant. It has a cassette deck, two speakers, headphones, radio facilities, stereo control, ace controllability, Dolby etc. etc. It is great. I have mastered the instructions already. I am clever. (That
is
an April Fool.)

Sunday, 9 April

STAYING AT MARGARET AND MEL’S IN CROWBOROUGH

Took the dog for another walk. I got in a mess with a stream, some holly and some barbed wire. Hmmm. Luvly dindins. Came back home from Margaret and Mel’s. Journey took four hours. Bought a Nutty at service station.

Wednesday, 12 April

The day has arrived at last. I asked Tina
⁶
to go out with me to the pics to see
Star Whores
when it comes. Magic. She will think about it. Had a filling at the dentist’s.

Thursday, 13 April

Success! Tina said she will come! Hooray. She is brilliant. Our art’n’craft group did our project displays. Angus and me’s was ‘Terror Movies’. Tina kept sneaking me bits of her peppermint cream from the cookery class. It was nice.

Sunday, 16 April

Brill. Tina went down the field. Ace. I think she will come to
Star Wars
if Jackie Needham
⁷
goes! So I am trying to pair up Angus and her so that they can go with me and Tina.

Wednesday, 19 April

Yawn. Boring day. No homework. Bollocks. I suspect Tina does not want to go out with me any more. Flipflipflipflipflipballs.

Aaaaw!

Thursday, 20 April

Snotsnotsnotsnotsnotsnotsnot. Tina is going out with Mark Walsh.
⁸
You can’t trust girls. Huh! I’m in a right mood now. Had haircut.