Today I’m pleased to be taking part in the blog tour for Wilson Indeed! My post is shared with thanks to Zoe O’Farrell for inviting me on the tour and to the author for my copy of the extract.
Wilson Armitage was just five years old when he started speaking French. Unusual, because at primary school Wilson was still on the foothills of the ABCs. An ascent of Mont Blanc should have been unthinkable, given that he’d never had a French lesson in his life.
His astonished parents looked to Foreign Language Syndrome as an explanation – a rare phenomenon resulting from a head injury. Playground rough and tumble perhaps? Unfortunately, that wouldn’t explain the other incidents.
The fact is, no rational explanation could ever account for Wilson’s talents, because Wilson was able to acquire expertise and knowledge during his night life. He was a Number Eleven, one of a small number of remarkable people who learn through their dreams.
When he meets Daisy Meadowcroft in a dream and then arranges to meet her the next day, in Starbucks, in Manchester, in real life, his cover is blown. Enthralled by their shared gift, an ability to bridge the gap between dreams and reality, they strike up a close friendship and encourage each other to seek a rational explanation for their unique talents.
As Wilson and Daisy investigate the boundaries of the ‘evening classes’, Wilson’s best friend, Teaps, is struggling to come to terms with his alcoholic father and a mother who disappeared seventeen years earlier. Convinced she’ll return one day, Teaps sparks a desire in Wilson and Daisy to use their talents for a greater purpose, to find the missing mum. In the quest for answers however, they discover a darker side to their dreamscapes.
Empty crisp packets, crushed Pringles tubes, Coke cans, all the detritus of a teenage lad litters the floor, including wet towels and odd socks. On the wall facing Wilson’s bed, a flat screen TV is connected to a PlayStation and although the signal to the TV is on pause and the image blurred, it clearly shows the cockpit of a helicopter. Wilson is staring up at the ceiling with a perplexed look on his face. There’s something he can’t quite figure out. He has a dilemma.
The previous night, he’d arrived in The Market Square with the intention of seeking Mark
Sampson’s adv ice on the best winter tyres for his Vespa scooter. A travelling circus was snaking
through the Square and Wilson had to weave through a nose to tail convoy of animals and a
troupe of acrobats. En route, a mime artist all in black with white face paint, gesticulated towards
his unicycle. Wilson soon got the hang of it and even managed a few words in sign language.
Moving on through the melee, a clown in a baggy, striped suit taught him to juggle with five
skittles and a magician showed him how to conjure a white dove from a wine bottle.
As Wilson stepped onto the pavement in front of Sampson’s Motorcycle Workshop, two
chimpanzees, walking upright and looking very business like in pinstripe suits, sauntered past
“I’m sure I saw Uncle Bill on Nat Geo Wild last night,” said one.
“Who uh, uh?” questioned the other, chimpishly.
Wilson ignored the monkey business, pushed open the door and stepped inside the shop.
It smelled of grease and spray paint and an impressive line up of motorbikes and scooters with lots of gleaming chrome ran the length of the workshop. At the far end, sitting on a work bench, was Mark himself. He was wearing oil stained overalls, a torque wrench was protruding from a grimy fist and he was talking to someone.
Wilson Indeed! is available from Amazon.
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One thought on “Steve Walsh: Wilson Indeed!”
Thank you so much for sharing this extract today x