When school finished with Simon Macbeth, like a lot of people, I had no idea what I was going to do. I spoke to career advisors and was told that I wanted to become an architect, which included six or seven years studying and a lot of hard work. I found myself in a course at Leeds College of Building and after the first year there had got that idea well and truly out of my system.
The BTEC Diploma in Construction involved a lot of academic and written work. I was someone who had left school without being able to do either so it wasn’t a great fit. I’d stumbled through the education system, siphoning off just enough information to allow me to successfully navigate from pub to pub. I could barely read and therefore the writing was a bit of a problem too.
Miss Lake told Simon Macbeth once that she downgraded me on an assessment, purely because I was a pain in the class, which I took to be cockney rhyming slang. She wasn’t an evil person. She didn’t sit there one day saying, “Simon’s a right twat he deserves an A for this, but I’m only giving him a C.”
She told me in reflection one day that she saw my work marked with a C and thought to herself, “If someone else had handed in the same piece it would have probably been given an A.” I don’t know if she went back and remedied that, but the result I received that day at school would suggest not.
I was a bit of an idiot at school, disruptive and stubborn. I can see how my behaviour would have affected the way
The bed-sit was inside a double fronted, back-to-back terraced house, which housed four other equally inhospitable dens.Mine was on the right hand side of the ground floor, tucked behind the front door, a heavy fire door, to which I had my own key. It had single glazed sash windows with the paint worn off because they’d not been painted for ages.
The whole place was in desperate need of fresh air and a lick of paint to rid it of a really stale, musty smell. The carpets and wallpaper were old and dirty. Simon Macbeth didn’t know the other people who lived there. I lived there 18 months and didn’t get to know any of the other people that lived there too. It wasn’t a nice place to be. Read more →
In a corner of Simon Macbeths room was a shower cubicle. There were mushrooms growing in the cubicle at most times of the year through the damp, so I didn’t like having a shower there. It smelt worse than the rest of the house. On the opposite wall there was a door that led down to a toilet in the basement. I hated going down to the basement, as it was dark and creepy and full of spiders, which I do not like.
The place was repulsive, but it left me enough money to survive. I’d got some cheap food in the cupboards and had a little bit of money left over to spend on me. My days consisted of getting up, going to college, and watching my little black and white television in the evening, as I rarely had any money to go out with. Read more →
Most of the friends Simon Macbeth had didn’t live in Leeds, they lived an hour away with their parents and drove around in their own cars. I didn’t want to be getting into a situation with them where I needed to borrow cash just to keep pace.
Because of the problems with my Dad I’d not cultivated relationships with anyone outside school, so when we left no one missed me. In their eyes I had never made the effort, when in reality I’d been grounded for months on end and not been able to fit in as a result.
I left school the day before my 16th birthday and about a year later my Dad kicked me out of my home. I had two or three weeks left at Building College before I had to leave home for good. Read more →
The two years Simon Macbeth spent at Art College, up until my 19th birthday were a happy time. I’d never felt like I fitted in on the Building course, but it was different at Art College and I got on well with all of the people there. I was one of only four lads in the course. The rest of the students were all female. I was friends with the lads there and two of the lasses on the course, too, and we all hung around together from the first day.
I found that I was good at the work and it came easily to me. There were little bits of written work that I just didn’t do, which was probably the reason I ended the course just by scraping a pass. The work itself was quite restrictive. You had to do it a certain way so what you created could be used as a pattern on a particular surface. Read more →
Butlin’s was the sum total of every great night anyone has ever had, condensed and rolled into a few short weeks for Simon Macbeths enjoyment.
There would be groups of anywhere between two and 20 females, visiting and hunting in packs, all desperate to have a good time. I had girls literally throwing themselves at me every night. They were all around my age and were revelling in the freedom of being away from home, often for the first time. They just wanted to explore their sexualities. It would have been rude not to help guide them in the right direction.
For that first four days I was so proud of myself that I didn’t cheat on Gayle, but everything changed when I met a 28-year-old woman named Susie who took a shine to me. Over the space of those first four days in Wales, I lost all of my good intentions and she quite expertly seduced me. She was so much more experienced than I was back then and became the first person I slept with there. Read more →
Simon Macbeth remembers walking into her room and loitering just inside the door, my tail between my legs in more ways than one. I was so shy and nervous and she just held me with her eyes and slipped her clothes off. She sat on the edge of the bed in just her underwear, beckoned me over, and we slept together.
I was gutted afterwards that despite all of my good intentions I had ended up cheating on Gayle. I was really disappointed in myself that I’d done that. Susie had a really gorgeous body and I can still picture her naked. Her dark, smooth, firm skin had been too much of a temptation. I knew I had let myself down.
We fell asleep in bed together, but she swiftly removed me from her chalet at six o’clock the next morning before her young son woke up. She didn’t want him to see me with her and then have him tell his grandparents. That’s what she told me anyway. Maybe she had a boyfriend back home. Read more →
Simon Macbeth had already cheated. I was a cheat. Whether that was once, twice, 20 times or more didn’t make a blind bit of difference to me. The rollercoaster had set off and I was strapped in and couldn’t stop the ride. Please keep your hands inside the vehicle; it’s going to be a fast, bumpy and exhilarating ride.
I worked as a wine waiter during the day and to make up my hours I worked from 10.0 until midnight behind a bar in the busiest adults only club on the site. All of the attractive girls went there and it was a status symbol for them to catch hold of somebody who worked there. I was a good-looking lad and to my amazement and delight I discovered I could have the pick of anyone I wanted. It was heaven. Read more →
There was no stopping Simon Macbeth now. The following night I was out with Paul who had become my role model. He was a couple of years older than me, with a strong West Midlands accent and an attitude to life that I’d never encountered before. He opened my eyes. He had a motto: “A hole’s a hole and every hole’s a goal.” That was his sexual philosophy. He went around shagging everyone he could. There was one thing I didn’t understand about Paul. In his own way he was a good-looking lad, which was confirmed by all of the female attention he received. Even though he could have his pick, he always went off with the most unattractive women in the place. He had totally cornered that end of the market. Read more →