The Flying Pineapple by Jamie Baulch

Chapter One
Happy Families
    I have two sisters and one brother and I am the baby of the family.
    Two of us were adopted – Sarah, my older sister, and me. I was three months old when I was adopted by my mum and dad in 1973. I’m of mixed race but I grew up in a white family. My dad is an architect and my mum a school teacher in Cwmbrân. Growing up in south Wales in the 70s, people would say, ‘You look like your dad,’ though I looked nothing like him. We still laugh about that. We were, and are, a very loving family. I give full credit to my mum and dad that I don’t remember anything but a happy childhood and home life. To this day, Mum and Dad’s home is central to all of us. Whenever I chat to anyone else about their upbringing they always say that I’m really lucky, and I feel it.
    My parents live in a farmhouse with six acres of land, so as children we had fields all around us and a big front garden where we played. When I was growing up, we used to go down to the south of France once a year in the summer holidays, caravanning. It was perfect and we all loved being together as a family. Christmas time for us has always been a real community and family time. We always got the presents we asked for and, far more importantly, the love and attention. We weren’t spoilt but, if I’m honest, out of the four of us, I think I was the most spoilt because I was the baby. I was the one who always got away with murder, and I became a cheeky chap, because I was allowed to get away with it! My parents said that when I used to come into the living room, I could never sit quietly on the settee. I’d come from behind it, dive to tumble in a forward roll and land loudly and forcefully. I was always raring to go and always active.
    I’m sure one of the reasons I’ve got to where I am today is because of the support I had growing up. Mine were never pushy parents, but they were always there when we needed them. I played football for the Under Tens and my dad was the sponge man who used to run on every time somebody got injured. He was the sponge man when I played cricket in Croesyceiliog, too, so he was always there on hand and enjoyed being part of the team. As a child, I’d always have the right kit and Mum and Dad worked hard to give us the best. They raised the four of us exactly alike. They worked very hard and are extremely humble, and I am proud of how they brought us up. It’s rubbed off on me and, through me, on to my children.
    Even now, at the age of thirty-seven, if I am in doubt about something or I need advice, I’ll still ring up my parents and talk it through with them. No matter what the problem, I go to them and they are there for me, as they always have been. I feel very fortunate that the relationship we have is like that. I never had any problems with adolescence. Maybe that’s just the way I am but I was never an angry teenager – I’ve always loved life.
    We were a sporty family. My brother played badminton and both my sisters played county tennis, and were very good players. My older sister also played hockey. But I was the only runner. Dad played cricket a lot when he was younger. When we went to France each year, we all played tennis, went swimming and played table tennis. Every year I used to run against my dad on the beach over 50 metres. One year I flew past him and beat him by about 10 metres. I left him standing and he’s never raced me since! It was a big moment in my life, to beat my dad. As if I’d suddenly become a man myself. I had just beaten the man who was, and would always be, a hero to me. All through my childhood I looked up to my dad and I still do, but to beat him then was very special.
    We’re a very competitive family and that meant that board games were always interesting! Whenever we played Monopoly, whoever was the banker would always win as money wouldn’t stay in the bank! We used to fight and argue