Thursday, 23 April 2015

This week I needed Liam Neeson


I bet he'd find the phone

"What kind of week have I had?"


The kind that makes you shove in your earphones and play Karma Police so loud, you’re not just listening to it: it’s in your head.  


The kind where you set up a page to talk about your bullying book and folk come onto it and wait for it, start bullying one another. Yeah, really. Couldn’t believe it either.


The kind where you think your downstairs neighbour has opened a brewery because it sounds like he’s been tossing beer barrels about his floor for the past few days.


The kind of week where you despair of human nature because your OH dropped his mobile phone and someone picked it up and pocketed it. We don’t have much but what we do have we’ve worked damned hard for.


Note to the ass wipe who kept it - what you’re meant to do when you find someone’s phone, is ring up one of the numbers and find out who belongs to and return it. At least if you want to belong to the human race. You clearly don’t. Karma police are gonna get you, mate.


Just realised that instead of venting my spleen here, I should have left a Liam Neeson Taken-style message on the phone –


‘I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.


Obviously, the ‘kill’ in this case means in my novel and not real life.


Only two things have made my life bearable this week –


A wee dog who loves me unconditionally and always wants to play.

Happy as a sand dog (on second thoughts, he looks worried)


Football (that’s soccer to my pals in the good ol’ USA). Non-football fans don’t get it, but there’s a reason this sport is called, the beautiful game.


Few things make you happier when things go right. You see a cracker of a goal. Some brilliant play. Your team (in my case Dundee United) lift that elusive trophy. And, here’s the best thing of all – you get to bawl and shout and it gets your frustrations out. And nothing beats the times when everyone in the crowd is cheering as one, and making something happen on the pitch. The atmosphere is electric and it’s as if you’re riding along on a wave.


But more on that later. I’m now off to hone my CIA skills. ‘I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want…’

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