The best inventions, for me, are those which I react to by saying, 'Hey, why didn't I think of that?' Billy Pickering really did think of them long before the others - didn't he?
We had this really great idea, me and my mate Kevin. It wasn’t a scam or anything like that. It was all perfectly legit and it would’ve earned us a lot dosh as well as getting Billy Pickering a bit of what’s owing to him. Now, I know what you’re thinking – who’d want to bother with Billy Pickering? OK, so he’s a barmy sod, I’ll give you that. But what people don’t realise is that Billy Pickering is a genius. In fact, he is the guy who would have invented the electric egg whisk if they weren’t in the shops already when he got the idea. Yes, and a lot more besides, so think about that.
I’ll admit that when we were at school me and Kevin were just as bad as some of the others. Well Kevin was. Used to make fun of Billy something rotten but so did Snoopy Chadwick, our teacher. You’d think a teacher would give a guy a bit of encouragement, but not Snoopy. There was one time when Billy said he was planning to be an inventor when he left school, and Snoopy said to him, ‘You, invent things? You’ll be lucky if they let you sweep floors in the Co-op, you daft little pillock.’ That’s no way to speak to someone who’s going to be famous.
Anyway, after me and Kevin had started working at the drive-in chippy, Billy heard about this inventors’ club at the Nag’s Head. Actually, it was Kevin who told him about it. What it was, was just a group of lads who Kevin knew from Saint Geoffrey’s youth club but they were all real inventors. So Billy came into the Nag one Friday night and he went up to these guys. ‘Hi, fellers,’ he said, ‘Can I join the inventors’ club?’ For some reason Kevin started pissing himself laughing and so did the inventors.
I could hear what Billy was telling these guys cause we were just at the next table and, believe me, it was bloody impressive. Don’t know what those other gits thought was so funny about it. See, Billy had already invented a lot of stuff so he was a long way ahead of the others. A long way. I mean, it was Billy who had invented the ball point pen and that’s what convinced me he was some sort of genius. When you think about it, he would only have been a little kid when he did that one, cause ball point pens have been around for as long as I can remember. My Grandad had one when I was at Gasworks Lane Infants School. And Billy Pickering had invented it.
Anyway, that’s all a long time ago. Tracey, that’s Kevin’s Mam, got done for soliciting and some other rather heavy stuff so his little sisters got taken into care. And Kevin, of course, had to give up his job cause there was nobody at home to wake him up in time to get to work. So the only way he could earn a few notes was to do a bit of lifting. I tried to help him by looking out for shopkeepers and all that, but selling knocked-off crisps in the pub wasn’t really the best way to earn the price of a skinful. The miserable old cow at the Nag even barred him, would you believe. Fine bloody way to treat a guy who’s pissed out of his skull every time he gets the chance.
So that’s when I got this really great idea. Kevin was trying to cadge the price of pint from me and I said, ‘It’s a pity Billy Pickering had to go and live with his Gran. You could have asked him to invent you a lifter. Knock off a few expensive things. Know what I mean?’
‘What’s a lifter?’ says Kevin.
‘How the bloody hell should I know? I’m not the inventor, am I?.’
Anyway, I was on my way for a few jars so I said, ok, I’d buy Kevin one. Trouble was, of course, we couldn’t go to the Nag or the Griffin or even the Drooping Donkey with Kevin being barred just about everywhere. Had to try the Rocket, didn’t we, which meant there’d be nobody to fob Kevin off onto. So yours truly would be paying all bleeding night.
‘Do you think Billy really did invent all those things?’ said Kevin after a while.
‘Course he did. Wouldn’t have said so if he hadn’t actually done it, would he?’
Course he wouldn’t for goodness’ sake. His Gran’s a Sally Army woman, after all.
‘So why isn’t he loaded then? Tell me that.’
He’s got this thing about being loaded, has Kevin, ever since he’s been signing on at the Job Centre.
‘Well I don’t know why he’s skint like the rest of us, do I? Probably been ripped off. It’s what happens when you invent things, if you’re not careful.’ So I got to thinking about it. ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘The poor sod’s been ripped off. Every time he invents something, some other bastard jumps in and nicks his idea. Gets it made and in the shops, and before Billy can start earning the rip-off merchants are raking it all in. So that’s where we come in. There’s big money in this, believe me. Drink up. We’re going round to Billy’s Gran’s.’
‘You mean we rip off some inventions from him?’
‘No, you daft pillock. We get him what’s due to him and earn ourselves a big cut in the process.’
‘Oh right. I get it,’ said Kevin, swilling down the rest of his beer. ‘We go round the shops and make the bastards pay up. Great idea.’
He can be a bit gormless at times so I didn’t put him right. Just told him to keep his gob shut when we got to old Ma Pickering’s place. She’s a bit of a witch, is Billy’s Gran. Used to go round the pubs on a Friday night wearing that daft hat and selling her newspapers, and looking like she was going to get her mate Gentle Jesus to zap you if you didn’t put something in her can. That’s why we dropped Billy when his Mam got fed up with him and made him go and live with the old bat. But it was worth risking it this time cause we were onto something pretty good.
When we knocked at the door Kevin thought the old crone would chase us away, but she didn’t. She just stood there and smiled. You get this feeling that she’s standing right over you like a sodding school teacher, but she isn’t cause she’s only five foot tall. ‘Hello, boys,’ she said almost like an ordinary person.
I got straight to the point. ‘Can your Billy come out?’
‘Oh I don’t think so. I don’t think Billy wants to mix with the likes of you two. But you’d better come in.’
I’d not been inside there before and I don’t think Kevin had either, so we didn’t really know what to expect. She took us into the parlour and made us sit down on the sofa.
‘Now then, boys, would you like a cup of tea? Oh no, I’ll tell you what, I’ve got some lemonade. I know you young lads prefer lemonade.’
‘Actually, I’d rather have…’ Kevin started but I shut him up before he could finish.
It was ages before Ma Pickering came back and then she’d forgotten all about the lemonade. Which was a good thing really cause whenever Kevin has a fizzy drink he always burps really loud and says, ‘Better a burp now than a fart later.’ He can’t help it. It’s just how he is but I don’t think Billy’s Gran would like that.
She stood in front of us and stared at Kevin. ‘You’ve grown, you have. Quite a big boy now, aren’t you?’ Then she looked at me and muttered, ‘As for you… No, never mind.’
‘So can we see Billy, then?’ I asked, but she ignored me.
‘I remember your Mam, young Kevin. Had high hopes for her at one time, I did. You didn’t know that, did you?’
‘No, Mrs Pickering.’ I reckoned it was OK to let him say things like that.
‘Aye,’ the old biddy went on. ‘I used to give her a Young Soldier every Friday night in the Griffin.’
‘Bloody hell, Mrs Pickering,’ Kevin blurted out, ‘you mean you was on the…’
‘Shut up, you daft pillock,’ I said, only just in time. ‘She’s talking about her Sally Army newspapers. That’s right isn’t it, Mrs Pickering? Aye, them was the days. Doing the War Cry crossword in the smoky.’
Actually, I really do remember that cause I started going to the Griff with my Dad when I was about fourteen. And him and his mate would sometimes try the crossword and ask me about the really hard clues cause I could still remember one or two things from before I got kicked out of Sunday School.
Ma Pickering buggered off to the kitchen again saying something about getting some scones. Anyway, instead of just waiting like two gormless prats, I thought we should tell her we’d got to see Billy. Followed her into the kitchen, I did, and I said, ‘Right then, Mrs Pickering, we’ll just go on up to Billy’s room. Upstairs is it?’
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘Billy’s not here. He’s gone back to live with his Mam.’
Well, that was nearly a whole bloody night wasted but we just had time to shoot off to his Mam’s and then get back to the Rocket before closing time. But Billy wasn’t at his Mam’s place either. At least she’s not as bad as the old crone, she didn’t keep us hanging around. Just said, ‘No he’s not here. So you can piss off.’
We tried again the next day and the next. And it was the same every time. So I told his Mam what we were after and said we needed a list of all his inventions so we can sell his story to the television and get him what was owing. For some reason she must have thought we were taking the piss like we used to, cause she started screaming and shouting at us to bugger off back to the funny farm where we belonged. And Kevin said, ‘It’s your Billy what belongs in the funny farm, not us.’
I don’t think she liked that very much. She said if we went back again she’d set the dog on us. It’s only a stupid little Jack Russell but I’ve seen what it picks up when’s it’s scavenging round the back of the market. I don’t want those teeth in my arse, I can tell you.
‘So what do we do now?’ said Kevin when we got back to the Rocket.
‘We’ll just have to try and remember all the things he told us about.’
Trouble was, I could only think of electric egg whisks and biros. Kevin said there was those things for shaving the knobbly bits off woolly jumpers like his Mam got from the gadget catalogue. And then it all started coming back to us. So we got a serviette from Kylie behind the bar and wrote them all down in a long list with ‘Billy Pickering’s Inventions’ at the top. When we’d written down everything we could think of Kevin said why don’t we include something really big and special. Make it look as good as possible. It wasn’t a bad idea really, considering Kevin’s usually a bit thick. We looked round the bar and I spotted the juke box. So that went down as well. Which is possible, of course. You’ve got to admit it.
All I’m waiting for now is for Polly Stevens to get back to me. She’s the clever chick that Snoopy Chadwick used to drool over. Not that he ever let it show, of course. Anyway, she’s working in the office at Watchdog Security. OK, so it’s the security side of things she works with, but she’s bound to know somebody on the TV programme so we told her we’d got this cracking story to sell so could she drop a word in the right ear. There’s nothing like the personal touch. I said we’d give them three days and then we’ll sell it to the Daily Mail. That was a couple of weeks ago but I’ll give them a bit longer. I think everyone’s on this big undercover job right now cause when I phoned Polly to remind her about it she just said they were chasing Russian spies in the benefit office so don’t phone again. Sounds really exciting.
Kevin’s already spent his share of the pay-off. He doesn’t know it yet, but he has. Borrowed fifty quid off me, he did, cause he wanted to go up to Catterick. After what Ma Pickering said about his Mam and the Young Soldiers he reckoned one of them guys must be his dad. Gormless bugger.
And he’s missed a great chance to try to get his old job back at the chippy. Cause a few days ago I caught up with Billy at last and told him how we’re going to get him what’s owing for all his inventions. He wasn’t too bothered about that cause what he’s into now is song writing. He knows he can make it big time cause he’d just heard one of his own songs on Radio One. Some rip off merchant must have heard him in the Drooping Donkey one night and he’s got his song recorded by some poxy little group from America. So what Billy needs is a manager. And that’s where I come in. I’ve left the chippy to go on the road with Billy. Kevin could’ve been back in there if he’d been quick enough. But, as I said, he’s a gormless bugger at times.