Kelvin Rush

An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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On the way home Carol told Brian the full story, with Jimmy occasionally adding his bits. After dropping Mrs Cartwright off, Brian pulled up outside The Blue Whale chippy. Jimmy was surprised, as they usually only had fish and chips on a weekend. ‘How come we’ve stopped here dad? We never have fish and chips during the week.’ Brian looked in the rear-view mirror at Jimmy who was sat on the back seat, holding the ice pack on his forehead. His little face was still hot and flushed and his eyes looked really sore from all the crying. Brian felt desperately sorry for him, and would have done anything to ease his pain. He thought fish and chips might help. ‘A mate at work told me that fish and chips always taste better during the week Jimmy. I thought I’d put it to the test. So how do ya fancy fish and chips with mushy peas?’ Brian felt a surge of euphoria, as he saw the sheer delight on Jimmy’s face. ‘Yeah…..! that would be great dad! with scraps and a bottle of orangeade, if that’s ok.’

‘No worries son you can have whatever you like. What do you fancy Carol?’
‘I’ll have the same please love, minus the scraps and orangeade, and get our Mel the same as Jimmy. You know they argue, if one gets something without the other.’ Jimmy’s delight soon turned to anger. ‘I don’t see why she should get the same as me! She’s not been knocked out unconscious like I have!’ Here we go again thought Carol. ‘Ok Jimmy that’s enough of that,’ she said. ‘What is it with you two anyway? I thought twins were supposed to support each other, not be fighting all the time.’

Fifteen minutes later, they were all sat around the kitchen table, tucking into fish and chips, scraps, mushy peas, (all soaked in salt and vinegar), white bread and butter, a pot of tea, and orangeade. As usual it wasn’t long before the twins were at it again.

‘He’s got more scraps than me,’ said Mel.
‘No I haven’t stupid, how can you count scraps?’
‘You don’t need to count them Dummy, you can see your pile is bigger than mine.’
‘That’s because you’ve already eaten half of yours stupid.’
‘No I haven’t Dummy!’
‘Yes you have Stupid! and stop calling me Dummy!’
‘Then stop calling me Stupid! Dummy!’

Jimmy then lost his temper and kicked Mel underneath the table, right on the shin bone. Considering he still had his football boots on, it was quite a nasty thing to do. Mel cried out in pain. ‘He’s just kicked me mum! Right on the shin bone!’ She then walloped Jimmy on his elbow with her fork, sending his funny bone into overdrive. It sent Jimmy reeling on his chair, and squealing like a cat that had just been run over by a truck. ‘Right! That’s enough!’ shouted Carol. ‘We can’t even have a quiet tea without you two spoiling it! Jimmy! Get upstairs to your bedroom!’ Jimmy was absolutely furious. ‘But I’ve not even finished mi tea yet mum!’ he blasted, while desperately rubbing his elbow that had gone all numb. Carol was in no mood for any backchat. ‘Take it with you Jimmy! Go on! Go to your bedroom!’

Jimmy reluctantly got to his feet and picked up his plate of half-eaten fish and chips, with mushy peas and scraps. He could see Mel smirking, which made him even more angry. As he walked passed, he sneakily caught the back of her head with the edge of his plate. It was an instant success, as Mel once again screamed out in pain.

‘Ahhhhh…..!! He’s just hit me with his plate mum!!’ she squealed loudly, as she picked up the battered haddock from her plate and slung it at great pace in Jimmy’s direction. It was a perfect execution. It seemed to travel in slow motion, before landing bulls-eye, right smack on Jimmy’s red, sore lump. Jimmy yelped out in extreme pain before dramatically collapsing to the floor, like a Fred Dibnah chimney. He dropped his plate, scattering his tea all over the lino. Brian burst out laughing, shortly followed by Carol, then Mel. The kitchen was in uproar. ‘Bloody hell!’ screamed Carol. ‘Our Jimmy’s been well and truly battered!’

Even Jimmy, who was rolling around on the floor like a rattlesnake on speed, covered in battered fish and mushy peas, couldn’t stop himself from laughing hysterically. ‘I’ll have a right haddock in the morning,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to take another paracetamol.’

Eventually everyone calmed down, and Jimmy was allowed to go back to the table and finish his tea, (after he’d scraped it off the lino and cleaned it up a bit). Later that night in bed, he realised just what an eventful day it had been. As he dropped off to sleep, Julie Richardson was firmly engraved on his mind.

An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
Book Details

The ambulance drove out of the school car park and headed down the main road to the hospital a few miles away. Jimmy had finally stopped crying and was feeling a little better, thanks to the support of Mrs Cartwright and Trev the paramedic. Twenty minutes later the ambulance pulled up outside A&E. Jimmy’s mother Carol was already waiting in the reception area. After she’d spoken with Mr Brown on the phone, she’d been driven to the hospital at high speed by her next door neighbour Mr Barkley. He was lucky not to get a speeding ticket, as he raced through the streets in his clapped-out Rover P5 Saloon.

You could hear him coming from a mile away, as the loud deafening noise bellowed from his loose exhaust pipe. It also left a trail of thick black smoke in its wake. Mr Barkley had painted the bottom half of the car dark grey, which made it look rather distinctive, consi­dering the top half was bright red. ‘Don’t drive so fast Mr Barkley, I don’t think Jimmy’s going to die, or anything like that,’ said a rather nervous Carol. It turns out Mr Barkley drives that fast all the time. Carol won’t be getting back into his car anytime soon.

Trev and Sid removed the stretcher from the back of the ambulance, raised the legs and pushed Jimmy through the large double elec­tric doors and into the reception area, followed by Mrs Cartwright. Carol rushed towards the stretcher and gave Jimmy a big hug, smo­thering him in kisses all over his face. Al­though Jimmy was overjoyed to see his mum, he screamed out in pain, as she’d accidentally knocked his lump. ‘Be careful mum! Mind the lump!’ Carol was alarmed when she saw how big the lump was on Jimmy’s forehead. ‘Oh you poor love, does it hurt?’

‘It does when someone touches it mum!’
‘Oh I’m sorry love I didn’t realise.’ Mrs Cartwright recognised Carol from one of their previous encounters. They’d met at a parents evening a few months before. ‘Hello Carol,’ she said with a warm friendly smile. ‘We met at the parents evening if you remember.’
‘Oh that’s right Mrs Cartwright, how are you?’
‘I’m fine thanks Carol, I’m so sorry about Jimmy.’
‘What on earth happened Mrs Cartwright?’

Mrs Cartwright spent the next ten minutes telling Carol the whole story, while Trev gave details of the incident to the nurse at the reception desk. Luckily for Jimmy, there wasn’t a lot of people in A&E, so he wouldn’t have to wait that long to see a doctor. There was a fattish man in dirty overalls, who was holding what looked like a tea towel, tightly to his head. The towel was covered in blood, and the man looked in a great deal of pain. There was also an elderly lady in a wheelchair reading a magazine, and a few other people scattered around the plastic chairs. It would have been a different story on a Friday or Sat­urday night. A&E would have been heaving with wounded casualties, involved in drunken fights and domestic incidents.

Another twenty minutes went by and Jimmy was beginning to get really fed up. He was still lying flat on his back on the stretcher, and the neck brace was making his head hot and sweaty. And he still had a throb­bing headache. ‘How long do I need to keep this thing on mi neck for Trev?’ he asked. ‘It won’t be long now son, hang in there, you’ll be seeing the doctor soon.’ Five minutes later Trev and Sid wheeled Jimmy down the main corridor, and into a small room to be examined by the doctor. Carol and Mrs Cartwright were right behind. Trev and Sid gently lifted Jimmy off the stretcher and onto the treatment table. This was the end of the journey for the two paramedics, they’d done all they could for Jimmy, and now it was time to get back to the ambulance, ready to respond to the next incident.

‘We’re off now,’ said Trev. ‘The doctor will take it from here.’
‘Thank you so much for all your help,’ said Mrs Cartwright. ‘You’ve both been brilliant!’
‘Yeah, thanks for everything,’ said Carol.
‘Our pleasure,’ said Trev, as he leant over and ruffled Jimmy’s hair. ‘See ya Jimmy,’ he said. ‘Look after yourself lad.’
‘See ya son,’ said Sid. ‘Watch out for those flying hockey balls next time.’

Jimmy got all emotional once again, as he tried desperately hard not to cry. His bottom lip began to quiver, and seconds later tears were streaming down his face. He just about managed to hold it together, to thank the paramedics. ‘See ya Trev, see ya Sid. Thank you for looking after me.’
‘Anytime son.’ ‘Yeah anytime,’ replied the paramedics before leaving the room, pushing the stretcher.

Shortly after, the doctor arrived. He was a Pakistani doctor with short thick black hair, parted down the left hand side. He also had a really bushy greying mustache, that covered both his lips. He sat down on the edge of the treatment table and smiled at Jimmy. ‘Hello I’m Doctor Hurst, and what have you been up to young man?’

‘He’s been hit with a hockey ball doctor,’ said Carol. ‘I’m his Mum.’ Doctor Hurst looked surprised. ‘Hmm….. hit with a hockey ball? How long have you been playing hockey young man?’ Jimmy started laughing. ‘I don’t play hockey. I was running around the football pitch warming up with the rest of the class. The girls were playing hockey, and I got whacked with a hockey ball right in the head. It knocked me out cold. Didn’t it Mrs Cartwright?’ Mrs Cartwright nodded vigo­rously. ‘Yeah, it knocked him out cold doctor.’

Doctor Hurst looked even more surprised. ‘Knocked him out cold did it? Well, well, well. We’d better get you checked out then young man.’ Doctor Hurst leaned over and took a good look at Jimmy’s lump, before prodding it gently with his right forefinger. ‘Hmm….. hmm, that’s a nasty one young man, does it hurt?’ Jimmy grimaced. ‘It does when someone touches it.’

‘Oh I’m very sorry young man,’ said Doctor Hurst, as he ruffled Jimmy’s hair. (I wish people would leave my hair alone thought Jimmy.) ‘We need to get an ice pack on that straight away young man, to get the swelling down.’ Doctor Hurst then looked at Jimmy’s notes on his clip board. ‘Oh yes, blood pressure is normal, and you don’t have a concussion. How are you feeling young man?’

‘I’m fine doctor, although this thing around my neck is too tight, and I’ve got a throbbing headache.’
‘Not to worry young man, we’ll get you sorted.’ Doctor Hurst then took out a slim torch from his white coat pocket. (Not again thought Jimmy.)
‘Look straight ahead young man,’ he said, as he shone the bright light into Jimmy’s eyes. ‘Well everything seems to be fine. Any sickness or dizziness?’

‘No, none,’ replied Jimmy. Doctor Hurst turned off the torch and shoved it back into his coat pocket. He then removed a ballpoint pen attached to his lapel, and wrote down a few notes on Jimmy’s file. ‘I think we can take that neck brace off now young man. There’s no evidence of internal bleeding in the brain, or damage of any kind. You don’t need a CT scan or any further tests.’

‘Are you sure he’s ok doctor?’ asked Carol. ‘Yes, he’s ok. He’s took a nasty whack on the head, but he’ll survive. We’ll get an ice pack on that lump straight away, and get him some medication for the headache. He can then go home.’ The relief on Carol’s face was obvious. Now she was overcome with emotion and burst out crying. She started blubbering like a two-year-old, who’d just dropped her ice cream on the floor. She had to be consoled by Mrs Cartwright who gave her a compassionate hug to calm her down. ‘What about school doctor?’ asked Jimmy, who was feeling a lot better all of a sudden, and had acquired a sparkle in his eyes from somewhere.

‘Hmm….. well young man, you can’t go to school until that lump has gone down. I should give it at least three days.’ Jimmy’s face lit up like Blackpool illuminations on a dark Decem­ber night, even the lump looked pleased. No concussion, no brain damage, three days off school, and a beautiful close encounter with Julie Richardson. Things didn’t seem so bad after all. Doctor Hurst ruffled Jimmy’s hair once again. ‘Right young man, the nurse will be here shortly to sort you out. Now look after yourself and don’t go heading any more hockey balls.’ Jimmy smiled broadly, relieved that he would finally be going home. ‘I won’t doctor, and thank you,’ he said. ‘Yes thank you for all your help doctor,’ said Carol and Mrs Cartwright. Doctor Hurst then left the room.

‘Hey that’s alright int it mum?’ said Jimmy all excited. ‘Three days off school, that’s what the doctor said.’
‘I’m not bothered how many days you have off school love. All I’m concerned with is getting you better,’ replied Carol, who’d finally stopped crying, and was also relieved to be going home. ‘Can you imagine if I was playing football mum, and I headed the ball with mi lump? WOW! How painful would that be!?’

‘Oooh, it doesn’t even bear thinking about love,’ said Carol, as she screwed up her face, as if she could feel the pain. A few minutes later the nurse came in, holding an ice pack. ‘Hello, I’m Nurse Sharpe,’ she said. ‘Right, where’s this poorly footballer I keep hearing about?’ Jimmy raised his right hand.

‘Here I am nurse, the one and only Jimmy Spence, the egghead himself.’ Nurse Sharpe smiled as she sat down next to Jimmy. She looked in amazement at the sheer size of the lump. ‘WOW WEE! Ya right there Jimmy, it’s the size of an ostrich egg if you ask me.’ She then touched it very gently with her left thumb. Surprisingly Jimmy didn’t feel a thing. However, he did get a real good whiff of her perfume, which was a welcome relief from the sweat and B.O. coming from his body.

Nurse Sharpe was about the same age as Jimmy’s mum, with shoulder length curly hair, (a kind of reddish-brown colour). She was wearing a very smart nurse’s uniform. It was a navy blue dress with white cuffs and a white collar. She also wore a white hat attached to the top of her head, (a bit like the cooks wear at school, but not as big). And she had a dark blue elasticated belt around her waist, with a silver buckle in the middle.

Jimmy counted the number of pens in her top pocket. There were five in total, two with tops, three without, probably a mixture of blue and black ink. And she had a small silver pocket watch, pinned to her left chest. Despite Jimmy’s best efforts, he couldn’t quite make out what the time was.

‘Ya smell nice nurse,’ he said.
‘Don’t be cheeky Jimmy!’ snapped Carol.
‘That’s ok,’ said Nurse Sharpe. ‘Funnily enough a few people have said that today. It’s a new perfume I’m trying out called Estee Lauder. My husband got me a bottle for my birthday.’ Carol was impressed. ‘Oh I really love Estee Lauder, it’s a bit out of my price range though. There’s a stall in the market that sells it, it’s a bit cheaper than the normal price, but it’s still expensive. I’ve had a few free sample squirts.’

‘Why don’t you ask dad to get you a bottle for ya birthday mum?’ suggested Jimmy.
‘Yeah, I might just do that love,’ said Carol. Although Nurse Sharpe smelt nice, she didn’t smell as nice as Julie Richardson, thought Jimmy.

‘Right Jimmy, first things first, let’s get that neck brace off,’ said Nurse Sharpe. She put the ice pack down on the table, leant over and released the two velcro straps on the neck brace, before carefully removing it. Jimmy was so relieved and began rubbing his neck frantically with both hands. ‘Thank god for that!’ he said. Nurse Sharpe then handed him the ice pack. (It was actually a blue, round pleated fabric bag, full of ice cubes, with a white plastic screw top.) ‘Hold it on the lump love, it will reduce the swelling. Try not to press too hard.’ Jimmy took the ice pack and gently eased it onto his lump. It was very soothing, and instantly reduced the throbbing pain. He then dabbed it all over his hot flushed face and neck.

‘Right Jimmy you can sit up now love,’ said Nurse Sharpe. ‘Take your time, you might feel a bit dizzy.’ Jimmy slowly sat up and swung his legs over the side of the treatment table. His face was as red as his Liverpool football shirt, and his hair was all over the place, (thanks to some people giving it a good ruffle). Nurse Sharpe handed him a paracetamol and a glass of water for his headache. ‘Here love take this,’ she said. Jimmy put the tablet on his tongue and took a mouthful of water. He swallowed the tablet before gulping down the rest of the water and handing back the empty glass. ‘Thank you nurse,’ he said. Nurse Sharpe then gave Carol a box of paracetamol. ‘Give him one tablet every four hours until the pain goes away,’ she said. ‘Oh thank you nurse,’ replied Carol, as she pushed the box into the back pocket of her faded denim jeans. ‘Right then,’ announced Nurse Sharpe. ‘You can all go home now.’

‘Great!’ shouted Jimmy.
‘Thank you for all your help nurse,’ said Carol. ‘Thank you,’ said Jimmy. Nurse Sharpe smiled. ‘My pleasure.’ Then right on cue, she gave Jimmy’s hair yet another good ruffle. ‘See ya love,’ she said. ‘Keep using the ice pack until the swelling goes down.’ She then left the room.

Jimmy kept the ice pack on his lump for as long as he could stand the coldness. Twenty seconds a time was his limit. It was certainly very soothing for his red sore lump, but it was also freezing his brain, just like it does when you eat ice cream too quickly. ‘What about this ice pack mum? Is it ours to take home?’ Carol thought for a few seconds. ‘I suppose it is love yeah. We can always get ya dad to bring it back when you’ve finished with it.’ Jimmy looked disappointed.

‘Oh no mum, I’d like to keep it if I can. Ya know like as a souvenir, to remind me of this eventful day. After all, I’ve had a close encoun­ter with an unknown kind.’ Carol looked puz­zled. ‘A close encounter with an unknown kind? What do ya mean love?’ Jimmy realised he’d said too much. The unknown kind was of course Julie Richardson, and he certainly had no intentions of telling anyone about her, and certainly not his mum. ‘Oh it’s nowt mum, I’m just messing about.’

Shortly after, they left the treatment room and headed down the corridor to the reception area. The three of them sat down on the plastic chairs near the entrance. ‘How are you getting home Carol?’ asked Mrs Cartwright. ‘Oh, my husband’s picking us up straight from work. He should be here soon. We can give you a lift if you like.’ Mrs Cartwright looked well pleased. ‘That would be great Carol. It saves me getting a taxi. Thank you.’ Carol took hold of Mrs Cartwright’s left hand. ‘Oh no Mrs Cartwright, thank you! You’ve been a godsend! Me and Jimmy really appre­ciate it, don’t we Jimmy?’

‘Yes we do, thank you Mrs Cartwright.’
‘You really don’t have to thank me. I’m just relieved you’re ok Jimmy. Now you won’t come back to school until you’re fully fit will you?’
‘I don’t think there’s any chance of that Mrs Cartwright, is there Jimmy?’ smiled Carol, as she let go of Mrs Cartwright’s hand. Jimmy was about to say something, when he caught sight of his dad Brian, walking through the entrance doors. He leapt up from his chair still holding the ice pack on his head. He ran into his dad’s arms, and once again burst into tears. As ever, Brian was the calming figure and soon put Jimmy at ease.

‘Now let’s have a look at ya son,’ he said, as he knelt down in front of Jimmy and began wiping away the tears with his fingers. Jimmy stood there red-eyed with a snotty runny nose, feeling all sorry for himself. He removed the ice pack from his head to show Brian the lump. ‘Wow! that’s a big one son! I’ve never seen one that big before! does it hurt?’

‘Everyone keeps asking me that dad. Yeah it does hurt a bit, but the ice pack is helping.’ Jimmy then put the ice pack on Brian’s face. ‘Feel how cold it is dad,’ he said giggling, as he wiped his runny nose with his shirt sleeve. Brian pulled his face away immediately. ‘Whooo that is cold son. It’s colder than a polar bear’s foot. Now keep it on ya lump son, let’s get that swelling down.’

Just then Carol and Mrs Cartwright stood up. Carol gave Brian a loving hug, followed by a peck on the cheek. ‘This is Mrs Cartwright Brian. She’s a teacher at Jimmy’s school. She’s been looking after him. You’ve met before at the parents evening, if you remember.’ Brian shook Mrs Cartwright’s hand. ‘Oh hello Mrs Cartwright, yes I do remember, how are you? Thank you for looking after Jimmy, we really appreciate it.’

‘Hello Brian, I’m fine thank you. I’m so sorry about Jimmy, it was a freak accident. I’m sure he’ll be ok though. No doubt Carol will fill you in with all the details.’
‘I said we’d give Mrs Cartwright a lift home Brian, is that ok?’ asked Carol. ‘Yes of course it is love, I think that’s the least we can do. Right let’s get going.’

A few minutes later they were all in Brian’s car heading for home.

An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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‘Once the ambulance gets here Jimmy, I’ll ring your parents and tell them what’s happened,’ said Mrs Cartwright. ‘What did happen Mrs Cartwright?’ asked Jimmy, who still felt a little groggy and con­fused. Before Mrs Cartwright could answer, a voice called out from the crowd.

‘It was me Jimmy….. I’m really sorry….. honest I am. I was taking a shot on goal and I mishit the ball. It sliced off my hockey stick and right into your head. Didn’t you see it coming?’ Jimmy looked up, glancing around the crowd, trying to put a face to the voice. His eyes fixated on a pretty girl stood next to Tommy Platt. It was Julie Richardson. With the sunlight striking her long golden brown hair, it was as if she had a halo around her head. She looked just like an angel.

— It was precisely 3.19pm on Monday the 3rd of June 1974, and from this moment on, Jimmy Spence’s life would never be the same again. Jimmy seemed to be instantly dumbstruck and didn’t say anything. When he finally responded, he got all nervous and tongue twisted. ‘Oh err….. err….. err….. Yeah….. don’t worry Julie….. it’s not your fault….. it’s no big deal. Yav not killed me or anything.’

It was the first time Jimmy had ever spoken to Julie Richardson. She was in class ten and was friends with his twin sister Mel. He’d seen them together a few times in the playground and on the sports field, but he’d never actually met her in person. Julie began tapping the ball in the air with her hockey stick. ‘How do you know my name Jimmy?’ she asked looking all surprised. ‘Cos he fancies ya, don’t ya Jimmy!?’ shouted Birdie. The crowd erupted, sending loud raw laughter echoing all around the field. Even Mrs Cartwright and Mr Brown got sucked in. The only two people who weren’t laughing were Jimmy and Julie. Jimmy got really embarrassed. He could feel his already flushed face getting even flusher. ‘Shut it Birdie! Or I’ll give ya a lump bigger than this one!’ he bellowed out angrily, making his head throb even more.

— If the truth be known, most of the boys fancied Julie Richardson. She was a popular girl with a wide circle of friends, although some people thought she was a bit of a snob. She was good at sports and was the captain of the school hockey team. She wasn’t brought up on a council estate like a lot of the other kids. Her parents were well-off and she lived in an affluent area, in a four bedroom detached bungalow. She certainly didn’t want for anything, and went on all the school trips, dressed in nice clothes, and always had the latest trendy shoes and trainers. Most of the time her hair was tied in a ponytail, revealing a sweet and pretty face. She had perfect straight white teeth and when she smiled (which she often did), her face would sparkle like a shining star.

Boys always seemed to be following her around like lost sheep. Some would ride past her on bikes on the way home from school, pulling wheelies, showing off. Others would tell her silly jokes and impersonate celebrities off the telly, to try and get a few cheap laughs. She wasn’t that interested in boys and certainly didn’t encourage them to hang around. But she wasn’t mean enough to tell them to get lost, and she didn’t want to upset anyone’s feelings. As the laughter eventually died down, Mr Brown stood up to address the boys.

‘Right….. games lesson is over. I want all the boys to go back to the changing rooms and get dressed. Then you can all get yourselves off home.’ All the boys began to cheer, apart from Tommy Platt, (one of the brainiest and geekiest kids in school). ‘But it’s only half three sir,’ he said. ‘We’ve got another thirty minutes to go.’

‘Shut it Tommy!’ shouted Birdie. ‘Yeah shut it Tommy!’ said another voice. Mr Brown was adamant. ‘Well you can finish early for once can’t ya Tommy? Now get off to the changing rooms.’ Some of the boys jumped on Tommy’s back, as they began walking off the field. ‘What about us miss?’ asked Jessica Charles. ‘Can we go home early as well?’ Mrs Cartwright was still knelt down next to Jimmy. She didn’t want him to move an inch until the ambulance arrived.

‘I suppose so Jessica,’ she said. ‘Go on get off.’ As the girls began to leave the field, Julie Richardson walked up to Jimmy and crouched down beside him. She leant over and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘Sorry again Jimmy, I hope you’ll be ok at the hospital. See ya.’ Jimmy’s little heart was racing. He’d never been this close to a girl before, and certainly not a girl like Julie Richardson. He smiled nervously.

‘Oh thanks Julie. Yeah, see ya.’ Julie stood up and dropped the hockey ball on the ground. She then whacked it straight down the field with her hockey stick towards the changing rooms, before running after it. Jimmy’s whole body began to shake and tingle, as his testosterone levels hit the rooftops. His mind, body and sanity was already in the midst of puberty, and he no longer felt in control of himself. The aroma and human touch of Julie Richardson lit the fuse once again, and sent his emotions into overdrive. It was like a thousand different fireworks exploding at the same time, into a cold, dark, cloudy sky. He would experience many more episodes of be­wilderment and confusion, during his adoles­cence period. But for now he was just about coping.

‘Great they’re here,’ said Mr Brown, refer­ring to the two paramedics coming towards him pushing a stretcher. They were dressed in smart green uniforms and bright yellow jack­ets. ‘About time too,’ said Mrs Cartwright, as she slowly rose to her feet, relieved to be standing up again. She brushed away the grass and muck from her short pleated skirt, and from her knees. The two paramedics lined up the stretcher alongside Jimmy and lowered the legs, until it was a foot or so from the ground.

‘He’s been hit on the head with a hockey ball,’ said Mr Brown. ‘His name’s Jimmy.’ One of the paramedics knelt down next to Jimmy, and carefully moved his hair away from the enormous red lump. ‘Hello Jimmy, my name is Sid and this is my colleague Trev. Whoo…..! that’s a big lump isn’t it!? I’ve never seen one as big as that before! How are you feeling son? Any blurred vision? dizziness or nausea?’ Jimmy put on a brave face to try and avoid going to hospital. ‘I feel fine,’ he replied positively. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache but that’s all.’ (He didn’t know what nausea was, but he was certain he didn’t have it.) Sid took a closer look at the lump.

‘You’ve took a good old bash on the head their son,’ he said, as he examined it from all angles. ‘Been hit with a hockey ball have you? Now how long have you been playing hockey? Boys never played hockey when I was at school.’ Jimmy started grinning. ‘I wasn’t playing hockey, I was running around the football pitch warming up with mi classmates, and I got whacked on the head with a hockey ball. Didn’t I Mrs Cartwright?’

‘Yeah….. that’s exactly what happened,’ replied Mrs Cartwright, with her usual warm broad smile. Sid removed a neck brace from his bag. ‘So the first thing we need to do Jimmy, is pop a brace around your neck to stop it from moving. Is that ok?’
‘Fine,’ said Jimmy, who’d never even seen a neck brace before. Sid gently lifted Jimmy’s head a few inches off the ground, and carefully wrapped the brace around his neck, securing it with two velcro straps. He then took out a small narrow torch from the sleeve pocket on his jacket. ‘Right Jimmy, I’m gonna shine the torch into your eyes now, can you focus on the light please?’ Jimmy didn’t understand.

‘What do ya need to do that for?’ Sid tried his best to explain without alarming Jimmy too much. (I don’t think it worked.) ‘Well Jimmy, I’m looking for irregular eye movement. For instance, do your eyes respond to the light in the proper way? Have they dilated? Are your pupils the right size? I’m actually looking for signs of brain injury.’

Jimmy was beginning to wish he’d never asked. Brain injury was the last thing he wanted to hear. ‘Oh right, no worries,’ he said, still trying to sound positive to avoid hospital. Sid turned on the torch and hovered right over Jimmy, just a few inches away from his face. Jimmy could smell Sid’s breath and couldn’t quite make out what he’d had for lunch. It was definitely coffee and perhaps some kind of fish, but he couldn’t be sure. Sid shone the torch directly into Jimmy’s eyes, first the left then the right.

‘Yeah, everything looks fine son. Can you follow the light please?’ he asked, as he moved the torch from side to side, then up and down. Jimmy followed the light like a hawk, trying not to blink. Sid turned off the torch, pushing it firmly back into his sleeve pocket. ‘No problems there son, I think your brain is still intact.’ Jimmy was relieved. ‘I’m going to take your blood pressure now Jimmy. Have you had it taken before?’ Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know, I don’t think so.’

‘Well it’s nothing to worry about, it doesn’t hurt.’ Sid rummaged through his bag and produced a piece of equipment which he held out in front of Jimmy. ‘This is called a sphygmomanometer. We use it to take people’s blood pressure.’

‘Oh right,’ said Jimmy, who wasn’t really that interested. Sid rolled up the left sleeve on Jimmy’s Liverpool football shirt, and wrapped a piece of fabric around his upper arm. ‘This is called a cuff,’ he said. ‘We inflate it with air, by pressing this little black ball here, called the inflation bulb.’ (Sid sounded more like a science teacher than a paramedic, thought Jimmy.) Sid began inflating the cuff. Jimmy felt it getting tighter and tighter on his arm, as he screwed up his face in a little discomfort. ‘It’s not too uncomfortable for you is it son?’ asked Sid. ‘No it’s fine,’ sighed Jimmy, not wanting to make a fuss. A minute or so later it was all over. Jimmy’s blood pressure was fine. Sid released the air from the cuff and removed it from Jimmy’s arm. He then shoved all the equipment back into his bag. ‘I need to check for concussion now Jimmy, so I’m going to ask you a few questions, ok son?’

‘Fire away,’ replied Jimmy.
‘How many fingers am I holding up?’
‘Three.’
‘What school do you go to?’
‘Redclose Junior School.’
‘What’s the names of these two teachers?’
‘It’s Mr Brown and Mrs Cartwright.’
‘What’s your name Jimmy?’ Jimmy was baffled by the question. ‘Yav just said it, it’s Jimmy.’ Everyone laughed including Sid, who looked somewhat embarrassed. ‘I think even someone with concussion, would know the answer to that question,’ said Mr Brown.

‘Ok Jimmy, everything seems to be fine. But we’re going to take you to hospital to get you checked out thoroughly, just to be on the safe side. You also need that lump looking at.’ Jimmy looked very disappointed. ‘Do I have to go?’ ‘I’m afraid so,’ said Sid. ‘Don’t worry Jimmy,’ said a sympathetic Mr Brown. ‘I’ll go with you. I’ll ring your parents when we get there.’ ‘Thanks sir, dad’s working but mum should be in.’

‘Right Jimmy, we’re going to lift you care­fully onto the stretcher. Try and keep your body as straight as you can,’ said Sid, as he took hold of Jimmy’s shoulders. Trev (the other paramedic), bent down and cupped his hands around Jimmy’s ankles. They gently lifted Jimmy onto the stretcher, and pulled a dark green blanket over him, right up to his neck brace. Sid then raised the legs on the stretcher and released the wheel breaks. ‘Right then son off we go,’ he said. Sid and Trev were on either side of the stretcher, as they pushed it slowly across the football pitch, and headed towards the car park where the ambulance was. Mrs Cartwright and Mr Brown followed closely behind.

As they got nearer the school, a number of kids had their heads poking out of the classroom windows, wondering what was going on. All they could see was Jimmy’s large white neck brace, and his football boots hanging over the side of the stretcher. For some reason a rumour had circulated around the school, that Jimmy had been shot with an air rifle. It was later established that the culprit was none other than Simon Sparrow (Birdie). He’d started the rumour as a joke, but then denied any involvement, as the joke got out of hand. Even some of the teachers had been sucked in. Mr Grayson the history teacher was even considering getting the armed police involved. Some of the kids began to shout from the windows:

‘Has he been shot!?’
‘Is he dead!?’
‘Who shot him!?’
‘Have they caught the killer!?’ Then another voice shouted. ‘Are you alright Jimmy!?’ Jimmy recognised the accent, it was Paddy (Patrick Kelly). Paddy was one of Jimmy’s best mates. They played football together and were both Liver­pool fans. Paddy’s family moved to England from Ireland in the early seventies, and they’d been best mates ever since. Jimmy wanted to shout back to him, to confirm he was alright, but he didn’t have the energy. Also, it was embarrassing enough having to be wheeled off the school field on a stretcher, without trying to shout out a message to Paddy, who probably wouldn’t hear it anyway.

Instead, he clenched his right fist and punched the air several times (like a wounded soldier in battle, signaling to his infantry that he was ok). There was an almighty cheer, as kids once again started shouting from the windows:

‘We thought you were dead Jimmy!’
‘Welcome back Jimmy!’
‘Nice one Jimmy!’
‘Who shot you Jimmy!?’
‘Are you off to hospital Jimmy!?’ Some of the kids who were cheering didn’t even know who Jimmy Spence was. They only got in­volved so the lessons would be disrupted.

— With paramedics on the school field, kids shouting from windows, and rumours flying around that a pupil had been shot, one thing was certain: Redclose Junior School had never seen anything like it before. They eventually reached the school car park where the ambulance was. Trev opened the two back doors as wide as they would go. Jimmy looked a little downbeat. ‘Are you ok son?’ asked Trev. ‘Are you warm enough? I can get you another blanket if you like.’

‘I’m fine thank you,’ said Jimmy, who’s little face was redder than ever. He was dehydrated as he’d not eaten or drank anything since din­ner time. The neck brace was also tight and uncomfortable, and he still had a throbbing headache. ‘Could I have a drink of water please Trev?’ he asked. Trev climbed into the back of the ambulance, and brought out a blue plastic water bottle from behind one of the seats. It had a narrow plastic tube stuck out of the top. He carefully put the tube into Jimmy’s mouth. ‘There you go son, you’ll have to drink out of this. Try not to move your head.’ Jimmy quickly took several gulps of water that rushed down his throat, instantly quenching his thirst. As Trev removed the tube from Jimmy’s mouth, Jimmy let out an enormous belch. ‘Sorry Trev,’ he said rather embarrassed.

‘Better out than in son, better out than in,’ said Trev smiling. Trev and Sid then lowered the stretcher and carefully lifted Jimmy into the ambulance. Mr Brown got in and sat down on one of the seats. Sid would be driving the ambulance to the hospital, while Trev and Mr Brown were in the back with Jimmy. Sid jumped out of the ambulance and closed one of the back doors. Mrs Cartwright poked her face inside. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine Jimmy, try not to worry love. Mr Brown will keep me up to date with things.’

‘Ok Mrs Cartwright, thank you very much for all you’ve done,’ said Jimmy, as his eyes began to well up. A few moments later he burst into tears. Before long he was crying uncontrollably, as the events finally began to catch up with him.

— It was quite an ordeal for an eleven-year-old to cope with. He’d been knocked out un­conscious by a hockey ball that could have killed him, and now he was on his way to hos­pital in an ambulance. He’d never even been in an ambulance before, let alone a hospital. On top of all that, he had a banging headache, and a lump the size of an egg on his forehead. And he’d also had a close encounter with an unknown kind, by the name of Julie Richard­son. All in all it had been quite an eventful day to say the least. He also desperately wished his mum was there, she would make things better.

Mrs Cartwright’s maternal instincts kicked in. She had a young son of her own, and was well aware of the emotional upheaval in the life of an eleven-year-old. She climbed into the ambulance and gave Jimmy a gentle hug, being very careful not to knock his enormous lump, which was now very sore and as red as a beetroot.

‘Try not to get too upset love,’ she said whispering in his ear, while wiping away the tears with her thumb. ‘You’ll be ok. Would you like me to go to the hospital with you?’ Jimmy was too upset to answer. Mr Brown made a suggestion: ‘Why doesn’t Mrs Cartwright go to the hospital with you Jimmy instead of me? I’ll go and ring your parents, and write up a full report of the incident. Would that be better?’ Jimmy nodded in agreement. Mr Brown then thanked the paramedics and said his goodbyes before heading back to school.

— Mrs Cartwright was well liked by the children, and her fellow teachers. She was very kind and approachable, and always took a keen interest in the wellbeing of the kids, especially the vulnerable ones. She was easily recognisable around school, as she was the spitting image of Velma Dinkley from Scooby Doo. Her usual attire consisted of long white socks (pulled right up to her knees), a baggy turtleneck jumper (either yellow or bright orange), a short pleated skirt, square black rimmed glasses, and a jet-black pudding basin haircut.

On a few occasions, she’d been involved in the personal lives of some of the children in her class, who she suspected were being mi­streated at home. While some teachers turned a blind eye, she tackled the issues head-on. She knew she would face a backlash from the parents for sticking her nose in, but as far as she was concerned, the children always came first. And she didn’t hesitate to get social ser­vices involved either.

That’s exactly what happened several months ago, when Caroline Bradley walked into the classroom and sat down at her desk. She’d obviously been crying and looked very upset. She also had a nasty looking bruise on her right cheek. Mrs Cartwright noticed straight away, but didn’t say anything and calmly called registration as normal, as she didn’t want to create a scene. When registra­tion had ended, she took Caroline to the headmaster’s office. As it turned out, Caroline also had a number of nasty marks all over her back. It looked like she’d been hit with a belt of some kind. Because she refused to talk about it, Mr Bradley (the headmaster) and Mrs Cartwright had no alternative, but to call social services and the police.

After a thorough investigation, it was established that Caroline had been physically abused by both parents. It was mainly her father who dished out the punishment. He was a cocaine addict and was well-known to the police, for violence and drug offences. Her mother was violent to a lesser degree, but she still hit Caroline on a number of occasions, and she failed to stop the beatings Caroline received from her father. They could hardly take care of themselves, let alone their young daughter.

They were both arrested and charged with neglect of a child and actual bodily harm. Her father was sentenced to eight years in prison and her mother five years. Caroline was put into foster care. It was very upsetting for Mrs Cartwright, and she had to give evidence in court. But that certainly didn’t deter her from raising issues with other parents, for sending their children to school hungry, unwashed, and not properly clothed. Mrs Cartwright still keeps a close eye on Caroline, and continues to help her through her ordeal.

An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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Saturday the 8th of June 1974 would be etched in the memory of Jimmy Spence for the rest of his life. As midnight approached, he was sat up in bed wide awake and couldn’t get to sleep. His mind was racing uncontrollably in umpteen directions, and his emotions were a tangled maze of bewilderment and confu­sion. Once again, he was experiencing really strange, unexplained feelings inside his body. Rushes of warm, tingly, pleasurable feelings suddenly appeared from nowhere. Jimmy Spence was on the roller-coaster ride called ‘Puberty’ and he couldn’t get off.

One girl in particular made his whole body shake with excitement, sending his mind and imagination into overdrive. Her name was Julie Richardson, and although he didn’t know it at the time, she would become his first ever crush, bringing with her immense pleasure and unbearable heartache. Jimmy was eleven years old and had never kissed a girl. Up until recently, he’d never shown any interest in girls, and whenever girls were mentioned in conversation, he would either change the sub­ject or remain silent. But that all changed on Monday the 3rd of June 1974, at precisely 3.19pm. From that moment on, Jimmy Spence’s life would never be the same again.

Jimmy lived at 34 Mountfield Drive, Kim­berworth in Rotherham, South Yorkshire. He lived in a three bedroom council house, with his twin sister Melanie, his mum Carol and dad Brian. He went to Redclose Junior School. The school was situated right in the heart of a council estate, and the 450 pupils came from lower, working and middle class families. The school catered for boys and girls aged 6-11 years old. Every Monday afternoon at 3.00pm Jimmy had a games lesson on the school field. The lesson was shared between class nine and class ten. Jimmy was in class nine and Julie Richardson was in class ten. The boys played football while the girls played hockey.

At exactly 3.10pm the boys did a lap around the football pitch to warm up. Jimmy was one of the fastest runners in his class. Simon Cook was the fastest, followed by Peter Riley and then it was Jimmy. Although it wasn’t a race and only a warm-up lap, that didn’t stop the three of them trying to beat each other and finish first. It was also a good reason to show off in front of the hockey girls. Simon Cook was in the lead, closely followed by Peter Riley. Jimmy was then slightly ahead of Johnny Simpson. The four of them were several meters ahead of the remaining pack.

They’d ran over halfway around the football pitch, when a dramatic incident occurred. Jimmy was just about running flat out, trying to keep up with the front two. He was getting out of breath and looking a little ragged. Then all of a sudden, an object that seemed to come from nowhere, came hurtling towards him, and hit him right on the head. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, as if he’d been shot. Seconds later he was out cold.

Simon Cook and Peter Riley carried on running, while Johnny Simpson, (who almost fell over Jimmy) stopped to help. Mr Brown the PE teacher, saw the incident and ran at full pelt straight across the football pitch, like a world class sprinter. Considering he was at least three stone overweight and a forty-a-day smoker, it was a miracle that he didn’t col­lapse in a heap. By the time he reached Jimmy, there was a large crowd around him. All the boys were there, apart from Simon Cook and Peter Riley. They were on the fi­nishing straight, battling it out to see who came first, unaware of all the commotion.

As they both crossed the line, with Simon Cook just in front, they soon realised that some­thing wasn’t quite right. They were shocked to see a large crowd gathering on the opposite side of the pitch. They both ran over at great pace to see what was going on. The hockey girls were there with the hockey coach Mrs Cartwright. Mr Brown was breathless, as he bent down and crouched over Jimmy, who was flat out on his back.

‘What on earth’s happened?’ he said, (his voice noticeably trembling).
‘I think he was hit on the head with a hockey ball sir!’ shouted Billy Ellis.
‘Is he dead!?’ screamed Johnny Simpson.
‘Of course he’s not dead. Can’t you see him breathing!?’ said Mrs Cartwright. She was knelt down on the floor next to Jimmy, and began rubbing his hands and hair gently, willing him to open his eyes.
‘Has anyone rung for an ambulance?’ asked Mr Brown. Mrs Cartwright nodded her head.
‘Yeah, I’ve just sent Sally Scrivens to the headmaster’s office to ring for one.’ Moments later Jimmy’s foot twitched slightly.

‘His foot’s just moved miss,’ said one of the girls. Fifty pairs of eyes locked onto Jimmy’s size seven Adidas football boots. ‘Which foot was it?’ asked Mr Brown. ‘I think it was his right one sir,’ replied the girl. Fifty pairs of eyes then locked onto Jimmy’s right football boot. Then the girl changed her mind. ‘Oh actually, I think it was his left foot….. Or was it his right?’ Then suddenly, a few of Jimmy’s fingers began to wiggle, and seconds later his eyes flickered, before opening very slowly and precisely. ‘Where am I?’ he croaked. ‘Did I win the race?’ Everyone burst out laughing.

Jimmy was all confused. Firstly, he had no idea why he was laid on his back with a throbbing head. Secondly, why were all these kids stood around staring at him? Thirdly, why on earth was Mr Brown hovering over him with a worried look on his face? And fi­nally, and most confusing of all, why was Mrs Cartwright knelt down next to him rubbing his hands and hair? ‘Yav been whacked with a hockey ball Jimmy! Yav got a right lump on ya head!’ shouted an over excited Martin Day. Jimmy had an enormous lump the size of an egg, right on the top of his forehead. ‘Wow…..! look at the size of that!’ screamed Tommy Platt. ‘I’ve never seen one that big before! Does it hurt Jimmy!?’

Jimmy couldn’t see Tommy Platt in the crowd, but he recognised his high-pitched girly-like voice. ‘Yeah it does a bit Platty, and av got a right headache anall.’ Then Simon Sparrow (known as Birdie, who was the joker of the class), offered up his usual dollop of not so witty humour. ‘I’m surprised the hockey ball is still in one piece Jimmy, considering the size of your head.’ A ripple of laughter seeped from the crowd. Jimmy’s eyes zoned in on Birdie, who was stood right in front of him, wearing his usual all white Leeds United football kit.

‘Yeah, very funny Birdie, very funny pal,’ said Jimmy a little annoyed. He was used to Birdie’s silly jibes and jokes, and most of the time he was entertaining, especially when they were in boring lessons like maths and history. However, sometimes he was a pain in the backside, and this was one of those occasions.

— Not only was Birdie the joker of the class, he was also renowned for telling a good yarn or two. One of his best ones was when he told everyone that Billy Bremner (the famous Leeds United captain), had signed his football shirt. According to Birdie, he went to the 1973 FA Cup final at Wembley, between Leeds United from the first division, and Sunderland from the second. Sunderland (who were the big underdogs), won the match 1-0 with a goal from Ian Porterfield in the 32nd minute. It was the first time in 42 years that a second division team had won the FA Cup final at Wembley.

Birdie told anyone who was daft enough to listen, that he ran onto the pitch at full-time and got Billy Bremner to sign his Leeds United shirt. However, after being cross-examined by several of his classmates, his story unravelled quicker than a ball of wool used by Granny Clitherow (the world’s fastest knitter, who could knock up a cardie in just under an hour).

Firstly, spectators weren’t even allowed on the pitch at Wembley, and the very few that managed it, were quickly wrestled to the ground by police officers or stewards, and either escorted from the ground or arrested. Secondly, most of his classmates watched the cup final live on the telly, and no one saw any supporters on the pitch, and certainly not an eleven-year-old kid.

Thirdly, the signature on his football shirt didn’t look anything like Billy Bremner’s signature. Martin Day proved this beyond any reasonable doubt, when he brought a damning piece of evidence to school with him. It was a copy of the popular weekly football magazine SHOOT. Inside on page eight was a big story on Billy Bremner, and his midfield partner Johnny Giles. The pair were seen as world- class players, and played a major role in the team, when Leeds United were crowned Division One champions in the 1968-69 and 1973-74 seasons, under manager Don Revie. The magazine article included an extensive interview with both players, with a signed photograph.

Martin Day arranged a meeting with a few of his classmates (including Birdie), to present his evidence. They met up after dinner at the far right corner of the playground, next to the tennis courts. They all sat down in a circle, determined to find out the truth once and for all. Birdie carefully arranged his Leeds United shirt on the floor, proudly displaying the Billy Bremner signature on the front. There was intrigue and anticipation, as Martin Day pulled out his rolled up SHOOT magazine from his trouser pocket.

He looked all serious and detective-like as he began waving it around in the air. ‘Right then,’ he said. ‘This is the piece of evidence that will prove to the jury without question, that the signature on that shirt is fake.’ (I think he must have been watching too much Columbo on TV.) He then unravelled the magazine and opened it up on page eight. The blood seemed to drain from Birdie’s face, as he caught sight of the signed pictures of Billy Bremner and Johnny Giles. Martin Day placed the magazine on top of the football shirt to compare the signatures. They didn’t match.

The Billy Bremner signature on Birdie’s shirt didn’t look anything like the one in the magazine. No one was surprised. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain cell, that Birdie must have copied the signature and signed the shirt himself. ‘As you can all clearly see!’ shouted a victorious Martin Day. ‘The signatures look nothing like each other! I therefore conclude that Birdie is found guilty of lying and misleading his classmates, and should be punished accordingly!: I propose he’s sent to Coventry for a week! I rest my case!’

Birdie seemed to have shrunk to the size of a pea, as all eyes were scorning down on him. As usual when his back was up against the wall, he came out fighting. ‘Just a minute,’ he said. ‘Hold ya horses, not so fast. How do you know that the signatures in the magazine aren’t fake, and the one on my shirt is genuine?’ All the boys cracked up, as Birdie was shot down like a German Messerschmitt bomber in the Battle of Britain.

‘Don’t be daft Birdie!’ said one boy.
‘Yeah, get a grip Birdie!’ said another.
‘Why would they be fake!? They’ve been signed by the players themselves, you idiot!’
‘Keep digging the hole Birdie,’ said Martin Day. ‘A few more shovels should do the trick.’ Birdie’s defence was collapsing faster than a paper house in an earthquake, but still he continued…..
‘Look lads, I’ve honestly no idea why the signatures don’t match. Maybe Billy Bremner has two signatures, one for the magazines and one for the fans. All I know is my shirt was signed by Billy Bremner.’

Just as more bullets were about to be fired in Birdie’s direction, he was saved by the dinner lady, who rang the bell to end the dinner hour. ‘Right we’ll continue this later,’ said Martin Day. All the boys rose to their feet and headed back to class still hurtling insults at Birdie, who was desperately pleading his case.

The final nail in Birdie’s coffin came the next day. Jane Simpson revealed she’d seen Birdie at the local park on the day of the FA Cup final. She was in class twelve and was friends with his sister Angela. She’d watched the cup final with her dad on telly, while her mum took her little sister into town shopping. Her sister had been invited to a seventh birthday party the following weekend, and she went shopping for a new pair of shoes and a new dress. They returned back home just after the match had finished.

Jane Simpson took her sister to the park shortly after. It couldn’t have been any later than 5.30pm when they got there, as they only lived two streets away. She saw Birdie on the field playing Keepie-Uppie, (the game where you keep the football up in the air, using your feet, legs, chest, shoulders and head). She even remembered that his best score was 26. She shouted over to him to say hello, and to ask where his sister Angela was, but he never responded.

So unless Birdie flew back from Wembley stadium in a rocket, there was no way he could have been at the FA Cup final, let alone get Billy Bremner to sign his football shirt. As it turned out, he didn’t even know that Wembley stadium was in London. No wonder people called him Billy Liar.

That was it….. Birdie’s fate was finally sealed.

An Extract From The Book: Jimmy Spence 8^th Of June 1974 By Kelvin Rush.
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