Massive in Lapland Read online

  Massive In Lapland

  By

  Ian Edwards

  &

  Paul Waller

  Text copyright ©2017 Ian Edwards & Paul Waller

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to everyone who has bought our books and provided such a positive response. We hope you enjoy this as much.

  We would like to thank Mike Fishman for his invaluable help in the development of this novella.

  A big thank you to Kit Foster and Robert Chute of Kit Foster Design for yet another outstanding cover.

  Also available by Ian Edwards and Paul Waller;

  Fat Kid Stuck in a Flume (Alan and Frankie Book 1)

  Buying Llamas off the Internet (Alan and Frankie Book 2)

  Also available by Ian Edwards;

  I Sociopath

  www.edwardswaller.co.uk

  Table of contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2.

  Chapter 3.

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5.

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8.

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10.

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12.

  YOU HAVE BEEN WATCHING

  YOU WILL BE READING ABOUT

  Alan Rose - Part time comedian and full time Civil Servant. He spends his days dodging work and his nights in run down comedy clubs, dreaming of the big time. For the last 6 months he has been haunted by the ghost of Frankie Fortune.

  Frankie Fortune - A minor Music Hall celebrity, making a comeback on the alternative comedy scene of the 1980's, before his untimely death. Now spends his time haunting Alan. Can only be seen and heard by Alan.

  Sarah Gayle – Divides her time between running the local Arts Centre and managing Alan.

  James Cook – Alan’s best friend. The only person that he has told about Frankie.

  Rosie Talbot – Alan’s girlfriend.

  Pekka Pekkonen – Lapland’s most famous person.

  Païvi – Attractive hotel receptionist, might fancy Alan.

  Fredrik – The voice.

  Laurel and Hardy – Not THE Laurel and Hardy.

  Giles Monroe – Comedian and Sarah’s boyfriend. Disliked by Alan on account of his arrogance, conceit and slightly more successful comedy career.

  Chapter 1

  ‘I thought you said you knew where you were going?’ Alan shot an accusatory glance at Frankie, who looked up and down the street shaking his head.

  ‘It’s all changed since my day,’ Frankie explained. ‘Every other shop seems to sell coffee. How much coffee do you drink these days? Is that why everyone is an insomniac? That used to be a cinema,’ he pointed to a block of flats. ‘How am I supposed to get my bearings when nothing looks the same?’

  Alan shook his head and checked his phone. He looked at the address he had been sent the previous day. ’Let me have a look at the map,’ he said, and tapped his phone.

  ‘You rely on that thing far too much,’ Frankie said, peering over his shoulder. ‘Your generation will forget all the basic skills…like pathfinding.’

  Alan shot him a reproachful look. ‘You mean like you, who’s managed to get lost somewhere you know ‘really, really’ well,’ he said, mimicking Frankie’s offer of help.

  Frankie stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and looked down at the ground mumbling something about being dead a long time.

  ‘Right,’ Alan said, looking up from his phone, indifferent to Frankie’s sulking, ‘follow me.’

  *

  On the other side of the road, Colin Drake sat in his taxi and waited for a fare. Colin had had enough of Christmas. In fact, he had been fed-up with Christmas since the 2nd December, when he couldn’t find a radio station which wasn’t playing anything but Christmas songs. Even the talk stations had got in on the act by adding bells to their jingles in an effort to create the Christmas Vibe.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t like Christmas,’ Colin would tell every passenger throughout December. ‘It’s just that by the time we get to Christmas Day we’re bored of it. Did you know that the shops start selling Mince Pies in September! I’m usually still on holiday sipping margaritas in the Canaries.’

  Colin would eventually finish his diatribe by suggesting that Christmas was over commercialised and all about profit, its true meaning having been forgotten. He would then express disgust at the miserly tip and remind them that it was Christmas.

  He did a double take as he looked out of the window across the road to where a man appeared to be talking to himself and pointing.

  ‘Poor sod,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘It’s not even six o’clock and he’s already so pissed he’s talking to himself.’

  Colin watched as the man looked at something on a mobile phone and walked off, talking to himself. Colin shook his head. ‘Bloody Christmas,’ he said to his empty cab.

  *

  Two Days Earlier

  Alan looked across the desk at Sarah. His agent’s face was struggling to contain a grin.

  ‘What’s up?’ he asked. ‘You’re looking worryingly cheerful.’

  ‘Why are you always so suspicious of happy people?’ she replied, her attention focused on her laptop.

  ‘Because it’s unnatural,’ he replied. ‘The natural default position for people is misery, with occasional fluctuations of happiness, which is usually preceded by an increased consumption of alcohol.’

  Sarah sighed. ‘It’s nearly Christmas. Isn’t that enough to make people happy?’

  ‘As I said, usually preceded by an increased consumption of alcohol.’

  ‘You’d better be careful, otherwise you might get a visit from the ghost of Christmas past,’ she warned him, whilst continuing to tap away on the keyboard.

  A cold breeze blew across the room causing Sarah to shiver.

  ‘Too late, he’s already here,’ Alan said as Frankie appeared alongside the desk, sitting down in one of the spare chairs lining the wall.

  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’ she asked.

  ‘The ghost of Christmas past,’ Alan said, smiling at Frankie. ’He’s already here.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Sarah said, her attention still focused on the laptop in front of her.

  Giving up on getting Sarah’s full attention, Alan looked around the office. Coloured tinsel hung from pictures of famous comedians adorning the walls. Several Christmas cards were pinned to a corkboard. None of them, Alan knew, were from him. He left the cards (and presents) to Rosie, his girlfriend, and he was pretty sure that she hadn’t got round to writing them yet.

  ‘Look at that little guy,’ Frankie said, gesturing at the Santa Claus doll on Sarah’s desk.

  Alan reached across and picked it up. Turning it over in his hands, he found a small switch on the base which he slid across with his thumb. Santa launched into a rendition of Jingle Bell Rock and started performing a strange mechanical dance.

  Frankie laughed. ‘He dances like you.’

  Sarah reached out and snatched the Santa doll back, turning the dance routine off.

  ‘I was enjoying that,’ Alan said smiling.

  ‘OK,’ Sarah said, and slid the laptop round so that they could both see the screen. ‘Watch this,’ she clicked the mouse pad and a video clip began.

  ‘That’s you,’ Frankie said, moving to stand behind Alan to get a better view of the screen.

  Alan watched himself on the screen. ‘That’s the gig that I did last year at the�
��’ he paused, trying to remember the name of the run down venue. He leaned in for a closer look. ‘…The Kings Head.’

  ‘How can you tell?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘I recognise the shirt. I bought it especially for the gig.’

  ‘Listen,’ Sarah said, turning up the volume.

  ‘No need,' Alan told her, sitting back in his chair. ‘I’m probably doing the Fat Kid routine.’

  ‘Just listen will you,’ Sarah repeated, a little more forcefully.

  Alan stared at the screen. The on-screen Alan spoke although his mouth appeared to be out of sync with the sound. ‘What did I say? I didn’t catch that.’

  Sarah reached across and turned the volume up. The on-screen Alan spoke again.

  ‘I don’t understand. What am I saying?’ he asked and then added, ‘It’s gibberish.’

  ‘One of your better routines then,’ Frankie laughed.

  ‘You’re speaking Finnish,’ Sarah told him, oblivious to Frankie’s goading. ‘Your whole routine has been dubbed into Finnish.’

  Alan glanced across the desk to Frankie who shrugged, before asking one of the most obvious questions of his entire life.

  ‘Why?’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But you’re incredibly popular. This clip alone has five thousand 5 star reviews.’

  ‘OK, but why am I dubbed into gibberish?’

  ‘That’s Finnish,’ Frankie corrected.

  Sarah sat back in her chair, frustrated. Like Alan, she was having trouble understanding why Alan’s routine was being dubbed. ‘I don’t know, but the fact is, according to these five star reviews, you’re massive in Lapland.’

  ‘So are reindeer nuts,’ Frankie quipped.

  ‘What do the reviews say?’ Alan asked.

  ‘I don’t know, they’re written in a foreign language. Finnish presumably.’

  Alan nodded as if everything had suddenly made sense. ‘So how did you find this video nasty?’ he asked. ‘Were you just browsing the internet looking for clips of comedians dubbed into Finnish?’

  Sarah laughed. ‘Better than that,’ she said. ‘I was emailed the link by the Lapland Tourist Board.’

  Frankie threw a sideways look at Alan. ‘Well, that clears that up.’

  ‘Sorry Sarah, I still don’t understand what’s going on. Why did they send you that clip?’ Alan asked.

  ‘I don’t know, but they want to see us. I’ve got to contact them to arrange a meeting.’

  Alan looked back at the laptop, where the on-screen Alan was gesticulating wildly and shouting in a language he didn’t know. The only thing familiar about the whole scene was his shirt. He smiled at Sarah and eventually said, ‘great.’

  *

  Two Days Later

  ‘So this is it?’ Frankie asked as he slumped against the wall. ‘Only we’ve been walking for ages.’

  Alan nodded. ‘Bathgate Mews.’ He checked his phone again. ‘We want number thirty seven,’ he said, and walked through the open gate, Frankie following behind grumbling to himself.

  They stepped to one side as a group of women wearing Santa outfits of varying lengths made their way past. Alan exchanged smiles with one of the Mrs Claus wannabees and turned to Frankie. ‘I can understand why Santa only goes out once a year if he has her waiting at home for him.’

  Frankie laughed. ‘No surprise on Christmas morning though, I think we can already see what she has in her stocking.’

  ‘Here it is,’ Alan said, coming to a halt outside a double fronted office, which appeared to have been converted from stables. ‘Number thirty seven, the Lapland Tourist Board,’ he added, reading from the sign affixed to the wall by the door.

  ‘Go in then,’ Frankie said. ‘Let’s see what this is all about.’

  Alan pulled the door open and they stepped in.

  Chapter 2.

  Alan pushed the door open, stepping into the office. Frankie slipped in behind him, narrowly avoiding the closing door.

  A large Christmas tree dominated the room, its tip brushed the ceiling, curving slightly, leaving no place for a centrepiece. To the right of the tree was a desk where a woman was sitting writing Christmas cards. She looked up and smiled.

  ‘Hi, I have an appointment,’ Alan said, ‘I’m…’

  ‘You’re Alan Rose,’ she said and nodded towards a wrought iron spiral staircase in the corner of the room. ‘Do you want to go up?’

  ‘Up there?’ He asked, pointing at the staircase. The woman nodded and went back to her Christmas cards.

  ‘I can’t manage all these,’ Frankie nodded at the staircase. ‘They’re far too steep, I’d fall base over apex.’

  ‘What do you want me to do about it?’ Alan hissed. ‘Ask them to install a stair lift because my imaginary friend can’t do steps?’

  ‘Would you mind?’ Frankie asked innocently.

  Alan looked over to the desk where the woman was staring at him.

  ‘Hands free,’ Alan said weakly, giving her his most charming smile. ‘I guess I’ll head on up then,’ he said as he began to climb the twisting staircase.

  The stairs led up to a wide open plan office. Sarah was sitting at a table deep in conversation with another woman. They both looked up as Alan appeared.

  ‘Alan!’ Sarah cried out. ‘Did you find it OK?’

  He glanced back down the staircase where Frankie was struggling, out of breath and hanging on to the guard rail.

  ‘No problem. Piece of cake,’ Alan grinned down at Frankie.

  ‘This is Inari,’ Sarah said.

  Inari stepped forward and offered her hand to Alan.

  ‘Alan, I’m so pleased to meet you. Thank you so much for coming in. You’re so much taller than I imagined.’

  ‘That’s because you’ve only seen me on a screen,’ he replied. ‘I’m only this big on there,’ he held his thumb and index finger three inches apart and waited for her to laugh.

  ‘OK...’ she said, releasing his hand, her face blank.

  Alan declined her offer of a drink from the array of fruit juices and mineral waters that stood in the centre of the table. He took the seat next to Sarah, who gave him a smile and squeezed his arm.

  ‘Wait until you hear what Inari has to say.’

  Alan watched as Inari sat down and poured herself a glass of sparkling water.

  ‘Alan,’ Inari said at last. ‘Before I start explaining things, I’d just like to say that we are all big fans of your work.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Alan said, glancing over at Sarah, who smiled in return.

  ‘Now Alan, have you heard of Pekka Pekkonen?’

  Alan shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so. Hang on, does he play for Sunderland?’

  He looked over at Sarah who shook her head. The name clearly meaning nothing to her either.

  Inari dabbed at an IPad and passed it over to him. Alan looked at the screen. A round faced man with neatly cut blond hair stared back at him.

  ‘Is this him?’ He asked, and without waiting for Inari’s response added, ‘I still don’t recognise him. Should I?’

  ‘Me neither,’ Sarah confirmed.

  ‘There’s absolutely no reason why you should. I was just curious.’

  From behind Alan a voice wheezed, ‘Can you not wait for me? I’m part of this team and I want to know what’s going on.’

  Alan looked over to the staircase where he could see Frankie’s head slowly appearing. ‘A little bit of patience would be appreciated. I am dead you know,’ he grumbled.

  ‘Actually Inari, if it’s OK I wouldn’t mind a glass of orange juice…If it’s not too much trouble?’ Alan offered Inari an empty glass.

  ‘Of course it’s no trouble,’ Inari replied. She ignored Alan’s glass, reaching instead for a new glass and a small bottle of juice.

  Frankie dropped into the vacant chair alongside Alan and sighed. ‘No one said anything about traversing the north face of Everest. What have I missed?’

  Oblivious to Frankie’s arrival, Inari pass
ed the glass and bottle of orange juice to Alan.

  ‘Sorry Inari,’ Alan said. ‘I’m afraid I have no idea who Pekka Pekkonen is.’

  ‘Pekka Pekkonen is Lapland’s most famous comedian. He’s absolutely massive back home. TV, radio, live shows, he’s even starring in his first feature film – “Follow that Reindeer.”’

  ‘Oh…that Pekka Pekkonen,’ Sarah said, ignoring Alan’s look of amusement.

  ‘What about him?’ Alan asked.

  Inari took a sip of water before continuing. ‘He’s gone missing. He hasn’t been seen for four days.’

  Alan shrugged. ‘That’s nothing, I was once so hungover I slept for a week, and my mate James didn’t go out of the house for a fortnight once when he was trying to break the record for the longest game of Subbuteo.’ Alan smiled at the memory. ‘We had to post pizzas through his letter box otherwise he might not have survived.’

  Inari frowned at Sarah, who said, ‘Sorry Inari, he goes off at a tangent sometimes. You’ll get used to it.’

  ‘I understand,’ Inari said, although clearly she didn’t. ‘But Finland is very different. The most famous person in the country simply doesn’t go missing for a day, never mind a week. He has a number of important shows coming up and we really are very concerned.’

  Alan drained his glass. ‘Sorry, I’m not sure where I fit in.’ He paused, a thought suddenly occurring to him. ‘You don’t think I’ve got him do you?’ He turned to Sarah. ‘She thinks I’ve kidnapped whatsisname.’

  Inari laughed. ‘No Alan, you’ve got it wrong, completely wrong.’

  ‘I have?’

  ‘We don’t think you’ve got Pekka hidden away somewhere, we want you to cover for him.’

  Sarah grabbed his arm. ‘That’s brilliant. Isn’t that brilliant Alan?’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Frankie laughed.

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Alan asked the obvious question. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re massive in Lapland. Everyone watches your internet clips,’ Inari explained.