From the moment Ben Chapman ( ‘Hoodie’ to the other Shady Boys) crashes out of school, determined never to return and, incidentally, seeking his revenge on the school’s drug dealer by stealing and concealing his stash in his trousers on the way out, you know that this is a boy to whom caution and reticence are alien concepts. Outwardly, he maintains that all he wants is a job, his own money and to follow his heart towards the girl of his dreams, Isabelle.
But, underneath that concealing hoodie, Ben has a rich inner life, fed by dope, wine and the belief that he is someone special. During his ‘summer of love’, we follow his attempts to engage with the real world with frustration and compassion. His adventures cause him to question today’s competitive, consumer-based values, eventually challenging his perception of reality and prompting him to reflect upon who and what his purpose in life is before finding himself faced with the definitive test of resolve and bravery.
Hoodie’s blend of up-to-date realism, dream-like escapism, fast-paced, hard-hitting action, wistful musings, humour and tragedy, all while the story navigates its way on a magical mystery tour of Ben’s mind, ensures an enjoyable read. It provides the perfect antidote to alarmist Daily Mail reporting of youth issues, exploring the problems facing modern day Britain from the perspective of a disempowered, disaffected teenager.
On a deeper level, there is a moral/spiritual sub-text, fed by Ben’s belief that he has a secret weapon; the simian lines (fused head and heart lines) on the palms of his hands. These are extremely rare and noted as being a genetic abnormality shared by drug addicts, mass murderers, scientific researchers and religious fanatics (and, by sheer coincidence, Tony Blair). Could these lines hold the key to his future?
Brendon Lancaster lives in London, married with two daughters. He grew up in the Paddington/Notting Hill area.
‘Hoodie’ is Brendon’s first novel. He was prompted to write it because after spending 25 years in steady, albeit moderately successful, civil service employment he felt it was time to stretch his creative potential.
His relatively newfound passion for writing reflects his long held desire (identified at an early age) of finding a way of getting paid to daydream. He is currently working on a second novel.
Brendon is keen to emphasise that ‘Hoodie’ is entirely fictional and any characters or events are purely the product of his imagination. He is proud, however, to admit to – like ‘Hoodie’ - having simian lines on both of his palms – a rare genetic abnormality shared by drug addicts, mass murderers, scientific researches and religious fanatics (and, by sheer coincidence, Tony Blair). Brendon has shown no sign of possessing any of these traits. Yet.
‘Can’t we have some decent fuckin’ music?’ Mo eventually blurted in an uncharacteristic display of impatience from the back. ‘I can’t put up with any more of this shit.’
‘Here,’ said Dave, laughing. ‘Plug yer wotsit into this.’ He passed back a lead which fed into his system, allowing Mo to hook up his iPod through the speakers.
‘Lovely!’ said Mo with an obvious sense of relief at being put back in charge of sounds. ‘That shit was starting to do my head in. And to show my appreciation I’m gonna choose something to wish your new car well.’ Mo was smiling again as he scrolled up and down his playlists to select an appropriate tune.
‘Hey! Here we go guys. Something to launch Dave’s new ship,’ he said as the sounds of Fools Gold by The Stone Roses vibrated throughout the Peugeot’s shell.
‘Fools Gold?’ mouthed Ben, leaning across Hannah. Mo winked in return and commented with deadpan delivery that he thought it was a very apt tune for Dave’s new car. Ben laughed and Hannah giggled girlishly as she quickly picked up on the subtlety of Mo’s humour.
‘And I thought it was girls who were supposed to be the bitchy ones,’ she said tartly.
Luca joined in the back row laughter although Ben, Mo and Hannah were sure he did not have a clue precisely what they were laughing at, which only set them off more
‘What’s funny, guys?’ shouted Dave, breaking his concentration from the front.
‘Nuffin’ Dave,’ Ben struggled to say without laughing. ‘Just enjoying the ride…keep your eyes on the road, yeh?
‘Hey Dave,’ Ben continued, seeking a diversion from laughing at Fools Gold. ‘I got a joke for you. Two chavs in a car with no music…who’s driving?’ Ben paused for effect before answering. ‘…the policeman…’
Dave laughed, but nothing in comparison to Luca who was curled up again into another over-enthusiastic fit of giggles, waving his sprawled arms and legs all over Mo and Hannah.
‘Move, will you,’ tutted Hannah, slapping his hands down for the second time. Mo kissed his teeth and continued to stare through the blacked out windows.
‘Alright Luca,’ said Ben leaning forward. ‘It wasn’t that funny.’
‘And no more police jokes, okay?’ said Dave. ‘I got me shooter stuffed down da back seat so be careful, yeh?’
‘You what?’ said Ben, poking his hand to feel the gun’s barrel behind him between the seats. ‘Are you crazy? What if it goes off?’
‘Don’t worry. It’s not loaded. I got da ammo in da front, but I can’t leave it at home in case me Dad finds it.’
News of the gun’s presence immediately set Mo off on another trail of moaning. ‘Great, so now we’re not only being driven around in a chavmobile by an underage, unlicenced driver, but we’ve got a fuckin’ gun poking up our arses as well. Tsss. Don’t expect me to know anything about this when you get stopped, Dave, ‘cause you’ll be on your own.’
The more Mo complained of the situation, the more others seemed to worry less about it. Especially seeing as Dave remained so calm in response, making everyone laugh when he joked that the stash of hash in the glove compartment would keep any nosey coppers busy before they got round to thinking about searching for a gun in the back. It seemed more fun than a worry.
Chloe managed to change the subject by breaking her own silence.
‘I got a joke for you, Hoodie,’ she piped up, half grinning, half sneering. ‘What do you say to a Hoodie with a job?’
Ben had no idea, but could tell from the smug tone in her voice that he was about to find out. ‘Dunno. Surprise me.’
‘Big Mac please,’ she replied, in mock customer voice before burying her face behind her false nails in shrieks of over-emphasised laughter. No one else laughed. Nor did anyone else dare intervene to diffuse the tension created by the obvious dig at Ben. Ben knew that - Dave aside, who was pretending not to hear by squinting in concentration on the road - the others were watching him to see how he’d react to the provocation and to him, given the known difficulties he was having in finding a job. The ‘joke’ was considered simply not funny and totally unnecessary. He also considered Chloe to have crossed a line with him which now made her fair game - Dave’s girlfriend or not. So he decided to react by not reacting and instead stared coolly ahead singing quietly along to ‘Fo-oo-oo-oo-ools Gold’ until he received his own flash of inspiration.
‘Hey Chloe…what’s the difference between a chav boy and a chav girl?’
Chloe’s face dropped, her smugness lost in one fell swoop as she realised she was about to be dealt one of Ben’s verbal blows.
‘I don’t know,’ she said in staccato, exhaling heavily in anticipation.
‘Chav girl’s got a higher sperm count,’ said Ben coolly, without letting an ounce of emotion slip through into his voice.
Chloe’s face tightened sharply as if lemon juice had just been squirted into it and she struggled to find a suitable retort. Dave frowned but decided to ignore the joke, instead making a concerted effort to keep his eyes focused on the road. It was Luca who gave in first by laughing a little too enthusiastically. Ben did his best to maintain his air of coolness, but broke out in laughter upon seeing Hannah biting her cheeks, her shoulders shaking vigorously, giving the game away. He discreetly winked at her and gave her a knowing smile at their shared humour. She wriggled closer into his arm as Luca continued to thrash about in wild hilarity. Moderation in behaviour always was an alien concept to him.