"I'd lost the use of my eye, but both of my eyes were bandaged and my hands tied to the bed to prevent any rubbing..." I'm a local lad. I'm from Halmerand, near Audley. I've got my own software business - but I'm a full time daydreamer!
I used to love my endless summers, laughing joking and playing with my best friend. He didn't go to school with me, he was my grandad. Affectionately known as Frankie Boy, sometimes Kojak. A man who loved sweets (especially mints) and reading the Beano. A bald bloke with gums, no teeth, but the heart of a child and a sense of humour to die for! This story is dedicated to the memory of my best friend.
Remember when you were a kid and summers lasted forever and lollipops lasted for nearly as long. Remember when a stick could be gun, a light-sabre or anything else you wanted to be, and a cardboard box could be anything from a Wendy-house to spaceship. I used to love spending all my summers with my best friend, my Grandad, Frank Wilkes. Also lovingly known as Frankie Boy, occasionally Kojak, due to his shiny hairless head. It was Frankie Boy who used to make my summers special and I would try any form of blackmail, pleading, or excuse to convince Mum and Dad to let me spend a another week staying with Nan and Granddad. Nan as always been good to me as well, but she is a grown up. Not like me and Frankie Boy, and there was a whole lot of trouble when she caught us sharing a dirty joke or singing a swearing song. Mum always said it was never wait until your father gets home when she was misbehaving as a kid, it was always my mate who would shout up to her from the bottom of the stairs If you dont behave Ill send your mother up. He was everybodys best friend and was simply a big kid at heart. Kind-a-like those old blokes on Last Of The Summer Wine who never grow up. There was never any of that children should be seen and not heard rubbish. He treated me like and equal and I treated him the same. He never told me off, not even when me and arkid pinched and ate all the peas from his allotment. I guess he thought the next three days of running to the toilet was punishment enough. It certainly appealed to his sense of humour. In fact he only shouted at me for running too fast or walking around with my hands in my pocket in case I tripped up and broke my nose. And what a nose Ive got! Thats Nans fault it comes from her side of the family. Its my ambition never to grow up and become an adult. I still know what sticks and cardboard boxes, can be. I still know how to play and when I am with my nephews, I am with my new best friends! Playing, acting silly, and getting into trouble.
So I would like to dedicate this story to the memory of Frankie Boy Wilkes: dreamer, comedian, best friend and bald bloke and hope that my nephews will remember endless summers filled with days out not with there Uncle Simon but their best friend, Si.
I used to love my endless summers, laughing joking and playing with my best friend. He didnt go to school with me, he was my granddad, affectionately known as Frankie Boy, sometimes Kojak. A man who loved sweets (especially mints) and reading the Beano. A bald bloke with gums, no teeth but the heart of a child and a sense of humour to die for! This story is dedicated to the memory of my best friend and Grandad: Frankie Boy Wilkes. | 
