The Fincredible Diary of Fin Spencer Read online

  To the real Finn and Ellie, from Dad

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  SUNDAY

  MONDAY

  TUESDAY

  WEDNESDAY

  THURSDAY

  FRIDAY

  SATURDAY

  SUNDAY

  MONDAY

  TUESDAY

  WEDNESDAY

  THURSDAY

  FRIDAY

  SATURDAY

  SUNDAY

  MONDAY

  About the Author

  Books by Ciaran Murtagh

  Copyright

  Let’s get this straight – I am NOT a diary person! Never have been, never will be. I’ve never worn a cardigan, never collected a stamp, never eaten salad and never had a nosebleed on the high board in a swimming pool. Okay, there was that one time, but that was only because I slipped and headbutted the safety rail. (WHY CALL IT A SAFETY RAIL WHEN IT’S OBVIOUSLY SO DANGEROUS?)

  I’m more your stuntboy by day, rockstar by night kind of person. Or at least I will be when I stop being twelve years old. Until then I do what I can …

  This is me, by the way –

  I’m about to set a new world record for stunt-jumping. Almost. Well everybody’s got to start somewhere, right? The girl’s my six-year-old sister, ELLIE.

  She’s as annoying as a homemade birthday present from your grandma.

  Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking,

  Well the truth is, I didn’t want this diary. It was given to me by a batty old lady at a funfair. I’ll tell you about that in a minute. I was going to throw the diary in the bin straight away, when I had a brilliant idea …

  EVERYONE loves reading about celebrities, don’t they? Footballers, actors, pop stars – they all write about themselves and make a fortune. One day I’m going to be the most famous person on the planet. And when that happens, people are going to want to read all about me, too. This diary is my ticket to future millions! Cool, huh?

  In a couple of weeks there’s a school talent show and I’ll get my very first taste of fame when I win. This diary will show future fans how I did it. I can already hear the cash tills ringing

  Now, before we get onto that, let me tell you about the batty old lady at the funfair.

  The reason I was at the funfair today was to ride Everyone knows The Exterminator is the most terrifying ride ever created. It’s the perfect ride for a wannabe stuntboy like me. The only problem was I’d been grounded for a week for showing my sister my best wrestling move. (You’d think she’d want to learn.) Anyway, ELLIE had been bugging Mum and Dad to let her go to the funfair too and they were too busy to take her. Apparently there were loads of household chores that just had to be done – Dad was actually doing the washing for once.

  So I decided to try and get back into their good books – and get myself to the funfair – by offering to take ELLIE. It worked perfectly. Before I was allowed out of the house, though, I had to listen to a whole ten minutes of DAD RULES. He’s got a rule for everything!

  We eventually got to the fair but as soon as ELLIE saw The Exterminator she started moaning she didn’t like it. So I told her to wait in a spot where I could see her and promised to take her to her favourite ride in a minute.

  When I finally got to the front of the queue for The Exterminator there was a sign sticking out of the ground with a red line showing how tall you had to be and

  I was shorter than the line. The spotty freak in charge of the ride just looked at me and shook his head. I did my best to persuade him, but nothing worked. Then, to make matters worse, BRAD RADLEY walked past and got straight on. Brad and his mates think they’re really cool, but BRAD’s actually the meanest kid in school.

  By the time I got back to ELLIE she had started to cry so I did the one thing I knew would keep her quiet and I took her to the ride. But the spotty freak in charge of that wouldn’t let ELLIE on by herself. Apparently adults have to ride with little kids – but he’d count me as an adult because he was nice like that …

  We were going home.

  But then ELLIE started to cry even harder. The only reason I’d been allowed to come to the funfair in the first place was so that ELLIE could go to and she couldn’t unless I went too and if I refused I knew she’d tell Mum and Dad and then I’d be grounded forever. Or at least until Tuesday. I had no choice – I got on the ride.

  Just as the ride started, BRAD RADLEY spotted me. He laughed, took out his phone and snapped a picture.

  I was so embarrassed I wanted to ram the unicorn’s horn through my eyeball.

  I was in such a bad mood that when the ride stopped I leaped off the thing like Batman and marched ELLIE towards the exit. We were about to leave when the batty old lady I mentioned before popped out of her tent and stood in our way. She looked like she was over a hundred years old. She said,

  I felt like telling her I already know my future, Grandma – getting ripped at school tomorrow for riding on a unicorn with my kid sister!

  Before I could say anything, ELLIE and the old lady were inside the tent. I wanted to leave her there, but then I couldn’t really leave my kid sister alone with a stranger, and believe me, they didn’t come stranger than this lady. I followed them inside.

  The old lady asked me if I was enjoying the funfair.

  ‘NO,’ I said. ‘In fact, it shouldn’t be called a funfair at all. It should be called an un-funfair.’ And then for some reason I told her what had happened. ‘I really wish I could change a few things,’ I said as I finished.

  She nodded and smiled in that way old ladies do. Then she gave me this diary and said,

  How’s a diary going to help me get what I want? Doesn’t she know that diaries are for dweebs and losers? I am neither, thank you very much! I needed to get out of there before the batty old bat could give me something else I didn’t need, like a chocolate teapot or a lifetime’s supply of beard shavings. I snatched the diary, said thank you – even though I didn’t mean it – and yanked ELLIE out of the tent.

  As we hurried home, all I could think about was how BRAD RADLEY and his stupid camera phone were going to ruin my life before it had even started.

  Today was the worst day of my life. SERIOUSLY. THE. WORST. DAY. EVER. A day so bad I wish I’d just stayed in bed.

  Things went wrong as soon as I got up. Remember I said that Dad did the washing yesterday, for just about the first time ever?

  It turns out there’s a reason Dad doesn’t normally do the washing – IT’S BECAUSE HE’S NO GOOD AT IT!

  He dyed all of my school shirts pink! Not just any pink either, but Stayed-out-in-the-sun-until-your-nostrils-bleed pink. Then I tried on my trousers. Disaster! He’d boil-washed them and they were smaller than a hamster’s bikini.

  Then the penny dropped. No school uniform meant no school! Maybe the day wasn’t going to be a total washout after all. WASHOUT. Get it? (Did I mention I’m a comedian, too?).

  Anyway, I ditched the school uniform and pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt.

  When Mum saw what I was wearing she nearly blew her top. Then I explained it was all Dad’s fault so she blew her top at him instead.

  Dad tried to lighten the mood by showing us all this lame cartoon from the paper called ‘Kids Say the Sweetest Things’. He thinks it’s hysterical but anyone with half a brain knows it’s cringier than a four-year-old’s birthday party. This was the cringiest yet. It was a picture of a little old man and a snot-nosed kid. The snot-nosed kid was pointing at the little old man and asking, ‘WHY IS YOUR FACE SO WRINKLY? DID YOU STAY IN THE BATH TOO LONG?’

  Dad laughed and laughed and then Mum joined in. Sometimes I worry
about my parents. No, scratch that – I always worry about my parents.

  I was about to explain why it was so bad when I spotted something on the opposite page. It was an advert for the coolest rock band in the world, X-WING. It turns out they’re playing in town next week! I have to go.

  I was looking at the advert when ELLIE spotted one for her favourite singer, on the same page. He’s playing next week too. Ugh. He’s cringier than the ‘Kids Say the Sweetest Things’ cartoon and a four-year-old’s birthday party COMBINED.

  I pointed at the paper and asked if I could go to the concert. Mum and Dad were still too busy chuckling at the cartoon to pay much attention, but Mum wiped away a tear and said, ‘We’ll see!’, which we all know is mum-speak for ‘Definitely’.

  I poured myself a bowl of Coco Snaps, grabbed the remote and settled down for a long hard day of cartoon-watching. My bum had barely brushed the sofa when Mum hauled me up and marched me upstairs, saying she was sure my uniform wasn’t as bad as I said it was. She made me try on everything again and then stood back to have a look.

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ she said.

  It was worse than the last dessert on the canteen counter. I looked like I was starring in a film called:

  She couldn’t make me go to school like that! Could she?

  It turned out she could.

  The only person who didn’t laugh when I got to school was JOSH DOYLE. JOSH is my best friend. I’ve known him since I was three – we’ve been through A LOT together.

  We’re performing a double act in the talent show next week. We had a bit of an argument about what we’re doing. It got so bad we nearly stopped being best friends. I wanted to jump over him on my bike, but he was worried that he might get squashed. Which was a fair point – he might get squashed. But if you can’t squash your best friend, then who can you squash? JOSH wanted to tell some jokes. But JOSH doesn’t know any funny jokes and the ones I know you can’t tell at school. In the end we decided that I’d jump over a shark tank while he played a solo on his guitar. Not a tank of real sharks, obviously. Dad got me a wind-up shark as a joke present last Christmas. It’s really lame, but it can keep going for absolutely ages. I’m putting it in an old fish tank and jumping over it while it’s swimming about in there. FUNNY, DANGEROUS, COOL! We’re going to win easily!

  Anyway, back to this morning. When JOSH saw what I was wearing he put his arm around me and said,

  You can always rely on JOSH to tell the truth, even when he should probably lie his head off.

  Still at least the day couldn’t get any worse, right?

  At break time a group of kids gathered around the noticeboard. JOSH and I made our way to the front to see what all the fuss was about. When I saw what was pinned to the board I wanted to hug a hedgehog. There was a mocked-up poster with a photo of me riding the unicorn. The caption underneath read,

  I tore down the poster, but it was too late – everyone had seen it. Wherever I went people kept saying, ‘How was Unicorn Island, FIN?’

  At least now the day couldn’t get any worse, right?

  I’d forgotten that after break it was gym. I don’t mind gym. Sure, Mr Bucklestrap the gym teacher is a maniac, but that’s part of his job.

  It was only when I was walking into the changing room that I realised I had a major problem. I’d been so worried about what I was going to wear to school that morning that I’d forgotten to bring in my gym kit. But then I realised it was probably just as well. Who knew what Dad had turned my gym kit into in his magic washing machine?

  I hid in the changing room and hoped that Mr Bucklestrap wouldn’t notice.

  No such luck.

  When he barged in I went through my usual list of excuses.

  At first it looked like Mr Bucklestrap was going to be understanding for once. But then he said two of the most terrifying words in the English language:

  He pointed at a heap of clothes that I swear have been sitting in the corner since 1982.

  I shuddered. He couldn’t make me wear those! Could he?

  It turned out he could. The best T-shirt I could find stank of cheesy feet, and the elastic had snapped in the running shorts.

  Still, at least I could rely on my best buddy JOSH to cheer me up.

  he said.

  Thanks, JOSH. I’m really starting to think I need a better best friend.

  I spent the rest of the gym lesson in the corner, stinking of cheese and holding up my shorts. I wanted to be as far away from the basketball as possible. But BRAD RADLEY saw what I was up to and chucked the ball at my face. I couldn’t risk damaging my rock-star good looks so I let go of the shorts to catch the ball and they ended up around my ankles.

  The whole class stared at me and then started laughing. I didn’t blame them. I was standing in the gym IN MY PANTS. I’D STARE AND THEN I’D LAUGH TOO.

  Mr Bucklestrap saw me and yelled so hard I thought his head was going to pop.

  I pulled up my shorts and sloped off while everyone else finished the game. When the lesson was over, Mr Bucklestrap had a go at me again for forgetting my kit and parading my pants in public.

  I tried to explain that none of this was my fault, but Mr Bucklestrap wasn’t listening so I got a detention anyway.

  For the rest of the day I was sure I stank of LOST PROPERTY. No matter what I did I couldn’t seem to get rid of the smell of cheesy feet.

  School could not finish soon enough! Then, just as I was on my way to detention, BRAD RADLEY cornered me in the corridor. He whipped out his phone again and took a picture of me in my pink-and-tiny uniform. ‘To remind me of what a dweeb looks like,’ he said. He laughed as he announced to me and everyone else in the corridor what I’d done. He said I was only allowed on baby rides at the fair, I loved to wear pink, I showed everybody in the class my pants and I stank of cheesy feet. When he’d finished he looked me up and down and pointed saying,

  A laugh went up behind me and all of a sudden I realised he’d just invented a new nickname. FINTERRIBLE FIN.

  Brilliant. BRAD RADLEY might be a mean kid, but I’ve got to admit he is sharp.

  For once, detention with Mr Bucklestrap seemed like a relief.

  After I was released, I was out of the school gates faster than a jet-pack javelin! When I got home, Mum had been to the shops and bought me a new uniform. She made me spaghetti on toast for tea and made the spaghetti into a smiley face.

  Even that didn’t cheer me up.

  I decided to come up here and write down my miserable day in this diary. Sometimes getting it all off your chest makes you feel better, right?

  If anything, seeing it all written down made me feel a million times worse. I suppose, even the most famous celebrities have bad days, every now and then. The time Lewis Hamilton stubbed his toe on a Ferrari, the day Simon Cowell farted in his Jacuzzi … that sort of thing. Well, I owe it to my future fans to tell them EVERTHING – no matter how painful.

  That didn’t stop me hating BRAD RADLEY and his stupid phone though. Someone needs to stand up to him. I wish I’d just told him that he’s nothing but a big bully and lots of people think so but they’re just too scared to say anything. If anyone’s terrible it’s him.

  I’m not finterrible, I’m fincredible – FINCREDIBLE FIN SPENCER. That’s what I want to be known as – and I will be when JOSH and I win the talent show with our stuntboy–rockstar act!

  If yesterday was THE WORST DAY EVER, today was the weirdest. than a chocolate-covered chinchilla. And I have a sneaking suspicion that writing things down here might have had something to do with it. But we’ll get on to that, for now, let’s start at the beginning.

  I wasn’t looking forward to going to school. Would you, if your new nickname was FINTERRIBLE FIN? Everywhere I went I knew it would be ‘FINTERRIBLE’ this and ‘FINTERRIBLE’ that. I pretended to be ill so that Mum would let me stay at home.

  No such luck. Mum saw right through it, of course – she always does. I think she might be psychic or something.
/>   Anyway, I got my nice new uniform out of the wardrobe and pulled it on. It was itchier than a nit’s armpit, but at least it wasn’t I headed downstairs for breakfast. It wasn’t a good start – ELLIE had eaten all the Coco Snaps so Mum made me eat some of her special Keep Fit breakfast cereal. It tastes like cardboard and turns your poo into house bricks.

  When I got to school I was already in a bad mood – and that was before people started calling me FINTERRIBLE FIN, like I knew they were going to.

  But here’s the weird thing …

  As I walked down the corridor everyone was looking at me. Not a surprise, after the day I’d had yesterday.

  But then I noticed they were looking at me in a way. Now that was a surprise! And the strangest thing of all was when CLAUDIA RONSON, the prettiest girl in my class, came right up to me and said, ‘What you did yesterday, FIN, was fincredible!’

  Fincredible? Did I just hear her right? What did I do yesterday other than make a complete fool of myself? Maybe that’s what she goes for. If so, I wished I’d known sooner – I’d have done it ages ago!

  Then one of CLAUDIA’s friends started clapping, and before I knew it, lots of people were clapping. Did they like my pants that much? I could tell them where to buy some for themselves – they were ‘buy one get one free’ in the supermarket.

  The attention freaked me out so much that by the time I got to my locker I was a nervous wreck and I dropped my key on the floor. Before I could pick it up, BRAD RADLEY was on his hands and knees picking it up for me.