The Life of Lee (43 page)
Authors: Lee Evans
March 1985 – my first talent show win of £250. We’re all holding the giant cheque – I lost the real one on the pier!
Then I looked for Heather again. I was getting impatient. I couldn’t see where she was. After all, it was beginning to sink in that we might actually be able to get the gas turned back on, and maybe even restore the phone line that had been cut off months ago. I searched for her across the crowd who were still going nuts, clapping, cheering and shouting.
At the end of the pier, I tried to focus my eyes on the cheque Heather was holding in front of me, but I couldn’t. It was too close to my face and all the writing was fuzzy. With a smile, I reached up to grab it so I could get a better look. But just before my fingers could get a grip, there seemed to be a momentary lapse of communication. We both got mixed up about who was actually holding it. Suddenly, there was a fumble, and the cheque slipped out of our fingers and floated up into the air.
I instantly let go of Heather and began jumping around the boards of the pier, chasing the cheque as it flapped, twisted and flipped around above my head. I took a quick glance over at Heather – she still hadn’t moved. She
seemed amused at my physical contortions, as I desperately reached around in the air but kept missing. My hand snapped and grabbed at the dancing cheque.
I stretched up as far as I could on the very tip of my toes as it fluttered and jumped on the various currents of wind. Then – no! – it was too late. There was a quick, strong, sideways gust, and in a flash the small piece of paper was vaulting beyond the railings out over the sea. It hovered for a moment, as if to say goodbye, then with a little flap of its tail it made a roll. Then it dipped violently and was swallowed by the darkness beneath the pier. Gone forever.
The giant cheque, which was unfortunately too big to cash, was presented to me on 27 March 1985. Things were about to look up!
I spun around to see Heather’s reaction, but she was just standing there staring intently, examining, calculating and yet still smiling. Then she calmly raised her eyes up to a parting in the clouds through which suddenly shone a blanket of stars. We were both caught up for a moment in the beauty of the vast twinkling lights. But then she just shrugged her shoulders and chuckled to herself. I searched for some guidance, as I was sure she must have seen what had happened. But her mind, amazingly, appeared to be some place else. Had she not seen the disaster that had just occurred?
‘Everything all right, Heath?’
‘It could work, you know,’ she said, dreamily. She looked deep in thought. Her mind was mulling something over. I had no idea what, but, quite frankly, I didn’t care. I started pointing, angrily jabbing and shaking my finger out to sea. I was just not getting her calm reaction, because I, for one, was devastated.
‘I’ve just lost the … ? Did you?’ I was still not getting
the response I expected. So, tactically, I went on the defensive and raised my voice a little, making sure I gave a convincing performance. ‘Do you know what, right? That about sums it all up for me! Do you know that we had it? But then, oh no, we’re not allowed to get ahead. It’s all right, you don’t have to say anything – I know I’ve messed up. Why is it that everything I touch turns into a catastrophe? I mean, we had it, but somehow it wasn’t quite real, and now it’s gone.’
Still remonstrating, I slumped dejectedly on to one of the wooden benches. ‘The story of my life, that is! Why can’t we just have one bit of luck, just a bit? That’s all I’m asking for, a sign. You know, like some sort of sign.’ I held my head in my hands.
Suddenly Heather was sitting there next to me. I looked up to find her still smiling at me. ‘We have had a sign,’ she beamed.
I didn’t know what she meant. I shook my head, confused. ‘What?’
But, frustratingly, she changed the subject again. ‘It’s all right, Lee, we can get a replacement cheque.’ She put her hand under my chin, pulled me gently up towards her and kissed me on the lips. She whispered, ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right.’
We linked arms and began walking back down the pier.
‘You know, Heather,’ I said with a smile, ‘I’ll be back down that Job Centre tomorrow. Don’t you worry. You leave it to me.
‘I promise I’ll get a proper job.’
Epilogue
Lee Evans is the most successful stand-up comedian in recent British history. He has performed to millions of people throughout the world and has sold more DVDs than any other stand-up comedian over the last twelve years. He entered the
Guinness Book of World Records
for the highest number of people at a solo stand-up comedy performance.
He has starred in films such as
There’s Something About Mary
,
MouseHunt
,
The Fifth Element
,
The Martins
and
Funny Bones
, which have so far grossed in excess of 700 million dollars worldwide. He has also headlined in the hugely successful musical
The Producers
and plays such as Samuel Beckett’s
Endgame
and Harold Pinter’s
The Dumb Waiter
, scooping a mass of awards and critical acclaim along the way.
And yet, even as he sell outs 15,000-seater arenas, he still insists he hasn’t actually found a proper job yet.
Well, one day, eh?
Only a small boy,
Just a small boy,
But he stood tall, as tall as a man,
As tall as a small boy can.
Only a short life,
Just a short life,
But he led a life of one hundred men,
No, of one thousand men.
We gave you all of our love,
But they came from above,
And took you from us,
A star called Max in memory of.
CHORUS
And let that be
A lesson to
To you and me.
Live your life,
As if you’re gonna die,
La, la, la, la,
See you on the other side.
Lee Evans,
Billericay, 2011
Acknowledgements
Thank you to all my family and friends. I really appreciate your encouragement and support. I love you more than you know.
This book is dedicated to little Maxwell Evans – the sole inspiration for this story.
MICHAEL JOSEPH
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London
WC2R 0RL
, England
First published 2011
Copyright © Lee Evans, 2011
Picture of charity cricket match copyright ©
Plymouth Sunday Independent
.
Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders. The publishers will be glad to rectify in future editions any errors or omissions brought to their attention.
The moral right of the author has been asserted
For the protection of the privacy of individuals concerned, some names have been changed.
Cover Photography © Ray Burmiston
All rights reserved
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book
Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk, Stirlingshire
ISBN: 978-0-141-94668-9
