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The Joe-90

Author: Carla Taylor-Combe
Year: Hope

I so badly wanted a pair of Nike shoes. Air Max were out of the question but any other pair with that acceptable tick. That ticket of acceptance. So bad was my yearning and my naive hope that they couldn’t all be too expensive that I got my Granny to order a pair from the Freeman’s catalogue that were within my “birthday budget”.

'It cannae be right at that price,' said my Granny. She was right.

The size 12 order number I had boldly circled was in fact an infant size 12. When they arrived, each sat securely within the palms of my hands as those aunties and uncles congregated in my Granny’s that day howled with laughter.

I can laugh now. But back then it was a blow, and a hard one, to my quest of integration. The hard ball of disappointment lingered for some time. I wouldn’t give up but I just couldn’t see how it was to be achieved.

Then, one Saturday afternoon at the Forge trailing Granny round the shops before helping her back up the road with the weekly Asda shop, I saw them. They weren’t flashy. A pair of navy, canvas court shoes but they had that elusive white tick and, what’s more, they were £19.99. Still pricey enough for us in the nineties but more possible than the £60 versions so many were walking around in.

As soon as my Mum arrived at Granny’s fresh from her usual half day in the butchers, I told her about them with the biggest puppy dog eyes I could manage.

'Please?' I asked, everything crossed.

She paused for a minute; I could see her weighing up calculations in her head.

'If I win the Joe-90 tonight, you can get them tomorrow.'

I gave her the tightest hug I could. Most Saturdays my Mum accompanied my Granny to the local social club. Tacked onto the usual bingo was the Joe-90. Pick a number between 1 and 90 and if the final house of the night is called on that number you got the £50 prize, sometimes more if it had rolled over.

'Are you going to pick a number then?' she asked.

'45.' I said without hesitation. I had no idea why 45, it held no special significance, it was just there. 'Will you phone me if you win?'

'Yes I will.' She laughed.

Reading my book that night was a bit more challenging than normal.

At 10.40pm Granda’s phone rang and my heart leapt – I ran for it.

'Hello?' I answered.

'Well, your number came up!' I could hear the smile in Mum’s voice.

'Did it really?!' I screamed, now bouncing up and down. 'When can we go get them?'

'As soon as they’re open tomorrow,' she laughed.

We hung up. She would be round to collect us from Granda’s in about an hour. I suddenly felt like a lighthouse with the sheer joy radiating from my core.

Tomorrow I would own my first pair of Nike shoes. And on Monday, I wouldn’t feel like an outsider.