you just tell me if you feel bad.’
‘I will.’ (I won’t.)
She walks towards my bathroom and sits down in the chair outside it. I hear a knock, and then Graham walks in with a tripod in his hand and a big smile on his face.
‘Hey, there he is! How are you doing, young man?’
I smile and feel warm inside. Graham makes me feel special. Just hearing his voice makes me feel like I’m the most important boy on earth. I push myself up on my bed.
‘I didn’t think you were coming!’ I say.
Graham leans the tripod against the wall. ‘Wouldn’t miss it. It’s not every day we get to catch a real live superhero on film.’ He walks over to me and rubs my head like
he’s my best friend. He’s not my best friend, but he is the person that I’ve known the longest. Last year he thought it would be the last time he would be able to do the
programme. The BBC told him they were going to cut his money and they were only going to allow him an hour instead of a whole series, but when four million people watched me on their TVs, they
decided to let Graham film again. Graham tells me I’m famous, that there isn’t a day that goes by without someone asking him how I am. I don’t feel famous, though. After each
episode goes out, Graham forwards me emails from people who watched it, but they only last for a few weeks.
Graham sits down on the edge of my bed.
‘So how are you, Joe?’
My head begins to throb. I tilt my head down and hope that it will clear. Graham gently squeezes my shoulder.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘Where’s the lively lad I met last year, eh?’
‘Refuelling his jets and webs.’ I point at my Spider-Man t-shirt.
Graham laughs. ‘And maybe getting a bigger suit,’ he says. ‘You’ve grown.’
‘Not as big as the Incredible Hulk.’
‘No, not that big, yet.’
My head spins again. I close my eyes.
Charlotte R stands up and walks over to my side. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this if you’re not feeling right.’
‘No, I want to! I’m just a bit tired.’
‘You’re like my kids when they were your age,’ Graham says. ‘Too tired to get up in the mornings and even when they did, they spent all day in their pyjamas on their
phones.’
I grin. ‘I do that all the time.’
Graham laughs. ‘Yes, I bet you do. You’re all the same. Look,’ he says to Charlotte R. ‘I think Joe’s old enough to make up his own mind.’
Charlotte R bites on her lip. I don’t want to get her into trouble; she’s nice.
‘I’ll tell you if I feel bad. I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I can’t stop just because I’m tired.’
‘Do you promise you’ll say?’
‘Yes.’
Charlotte nods at me, then at Graham.
‘Okay,’ she says. ‘Let’s see how it goes.’ She walks back to her chair.
Graham grins at me. ‘Good lad.’ He rubs my head again and I don’t know if it’s because he makes me happy or because we’re getting ready to film, but suddenly I feel
better. Graham sees me looking at the camera guy.
‘Ah, introductions, new cameraman – David, this is Joe, Joe this is David.’ New-cameraman-David takes his eye away from the viewfinder and waves. I wave back.
New-cameraman-David looks back through the lens and pans around the room.
‘See they’ve given you a sofa, Joe,’ Graham says, ‘. . . and a new TV.’
‘I’m getting Sky TV, too.’
‘What? We can’t have you watching the competition.’ Graham’s face goes straight then cracks into a smile again. He looks different to the last time I saw him. He’s
still as friendly as I remember, but his hair is much greyer than last year and his face is brown like he’s just come back from holiday. He makes me feel like my white face is practically
see-through! He looks at me for a long time like he’s waiting for me to talk but I can’t think of anything to say. Graham nods at my Theo Walcott poster.
‘So, you won a trophy at last.’
‘Yes. But he didn’t play. He was injured.’
‘He’s
‘I will.’ (I won’t.)
She walks towards my bathroom and sits down in the chair outside it. I hear a knock, and then Graham walks in with a tripod in his hand and a big smile on his face.
‘Hey, there he is! How are you doing, young man?’
I smile and feel warm inside. Graham makes me feel special. Just hearing his voice makes me feel like I’m the most important boy on earth. I push myself up on my bed.
‘I didn’t think you were coming!’ I say.
Graham leans the tripod against the wall. ‘Wouldn’t miss it. It’s not every day we get to catch a real live superhero on film.’ He walks over to me and rubs my head like
he’s my best friend. He’s not my best friend, but he is the person that I’ve known the longest. Last year he thought it would be the last time he would be able to do the
programme. The BBC told him they were going to cut his money and they were only going to allow him an hour instead of a whole series, but when four million people watched me on their TVs, they
decided to let Graham film again. Graham tells me I’m famous, that there isn’t a day that goes by without someone asking him how I am. I don’t feel famous, though. After each
episode goes out, Graham forwards me emails from people who watched it, but they only last for a few weeks.
Graham sits down on the edge of my bed.
‘So how are you, Joe?’
My head begins to throb. I tilt my head down and hope that it will clear. Graham gently squeezes my shoulder.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘Where’s the lively lad I met last year, eh?’
‘Refuelling his jets and webs.’ I point at my Spider-Man t-shirt.
Graham laughs. ‘And maybe getting a bigger suit,’ he says. ‘You’ve grown.’
‘Not as big as the Incredible Hulk.’
‘No, not that big, yet.’
My head spins again. I close my eyes.
Charlotte R stands up and walks over to my side. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this if you’re not feeling right.’
‘No, I want to! I’m just a bit tired.’
‘You’re like my kids when they were your age,’ Graham says. ‘Too tired to get up in the mornings and even when they did, they spent all day in their pyjamas on their
phones.’
I grin. ‘I do that all the time.’
Graham laughs. ‘Yes, I bet you do. You’re all the same. Look,’ he says to Charlotte R. ‘I think Joe’s old enough to make up his own mind.’
Charlotte R bites on her lip. I don’t want to get her into trouble; she’s nice.
‘I’ll tell you if I feel bad. I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I can’t stop just because I’m tired.’
‘Do you promise you’ll say?’
‘Yes.’
Charlotte nods at me, then at Graham.
‘Okay,’ she says. ‘Let’s see how it goes.’ She walks back to her chair.
Graham grins at me. ‘Good lad.’ He rubs my head again and I don’t know if it’s because he makes me happy or because we’re getting ready to film, but suddenly I feel
better. Graham sees me looking at the camera guy.
‘Ah, introductions, new cameraman – David, this is Joe, Joe this is David.’ New-cameraman-David takes his eye away from the viewfinder and waves. I wave back.
New-cameraman-David looks back through the lens and pans around the room.
‘See they’ve given you a sofa, Joe,’ Graham says, ‘. . . and a new TV.’
‘I’m getting Sky TV, too.’
‘What? We can’t have you watching the competition.’ Graham’s face goes straight then cracks into a smile again. He looks different to the last time I saw him. He’s
still as friendly as I remember, but his hair is much greyer than last year and his face is brown like he’s just come back from holiday. He makes me feel like my white face is practically
see-through! He looks at me for a long time like he’s waiting for me to talk but I can’t think of anything to say. Graham nods at my Theo Walcott poster.
‘So, you won a trophy at last.’
‘Yes. But he didn’t play. He was injured.’
‘He’s
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