Timothy Lea - Confessions of a Window Cleaner

When I look back on it, I was very green when I became a window cleaner. Eager for experience but making less headway than a marshmallow on a pin table.

Still, the customers were kind and some of them leant over backwards to be helpful.

It’s amazing what you can learn in the right hands …

I even got better at cleaning windows.

Title Page CONFESSIONS OF A WINDOW CLEANER Timothy Lea

Epigraph When I look back on it, I was very green when I became a window cleaner. Eager for experience but making less headway than a marshmallow on a pin table. Still, the customers were kind and some of them leant over backwards to be helpful. It’s amazing what you can learn in the right hands … I even got better at cleaning windows.

Introduction INTRODUCTION How did it all start? When I was young and in want of cash (which was all the time) I used to trudge round to the local labour exchange during holidays from school and university to sign on for any job that was going – mason’s mate, loader for Speedy Prompt Delivery, part-time postman, etc. During our tea and fag breaks (‘Have a go and have a blow’ was the motto) my fellow workers would regale me with stories of the Second World War: ‘Very clean people, the Germans’, or of throwing Irishmen through pub windows (men who had apparently crossed the Irish sea in hard times and were prepared to work for less than the locals). This was interesting, but what really stuck in my mind were the recurring stories of the ‘mate’ or the ‘brother-in-law’. The stories about these men (rarely about the speaker himself) were about being seduced, to put it genteelly, whilst on the job by (it always seemed to be) ‘a posh bird’: ‘Oeu-euh. Would you care for a cup of tea?’ ‘And he was up her like a rat up a drainpipe’ These stories were prolific. Even one of the – to my eyes – singularly uncharismatic workers had apparently been invited to indulge in carnal capers after a glass of lemonade one hot summer afternoon near Guildford. Of course, these stories could all have been make-believe or urban myth, but I couldn’t help thinking, with all this repetition, surely there must be something in them? When writing the series, it seemed unrealistic and undemocratic that Timmy’s naive charms should only appeal to upper class women, so I quickly widened his demographic and put him in situations where any attractive member of the fairer sex might cross his path. The books were always fun to write and never more so than when they involved Timmy’s family: his Mum, his Dad (prone to nicking weird objects from the lost property office where he worked), his sister Rosie and, perhaps most importantly, his conniving, would be entrepreneur, brother-in-law Sidney Noggett. Sidney was Timmy’s eminence greasy, a disciple of Thatcherism before it had been invented. Whatever the truth concerning Timothy Lea’s origins, twenty-seven ‘Confessions’ books and four movies suggest that an awful lot of people share my fascination with the character and his adventures. I am grateful to each and every one of them. Christopher Wood aka Timothy Lea

Chapter 1

In which Timmy is introduced to the charms of the window cleaning profession and sets out to prove to Sid, his sceptical brother-in-law, that he knows how to conduct himself with women. This intention resulting in a very embarrassing incident on Clapham Common

Chapter 2

In which we meet Timmy’s mum and dad; also sister Rosie through whose wiles Sid is persuaded to take Timmy into the business. Sid shows Timmy the ropes and introduces him to one of his more responsive customers with whom our hero spends an instructive afternoon

Chapter 3

In which Timmy sallies forth on his own and meets a lady called Dorothy, who is bored and lonely

Chapter 4

In which Timmy has a lot on his hands when he does a job for the animal-loving Mrs. Chorlwood and takes tea with the eccentric Mrs. Armstrong

Chapter 5

In which Timmy offers some advice on how to succeed with women and meets Sandy, a girl of mature tastes and advanced ideas. Also, her friend Amanda with whom he shares a striking experience

Chapter 6

In which Timmy finds a girlfriend, Elizabeth, at the Palais and has a confusing experience with Mrs. Villiers’ maid—and her mistress

Chapter 7

In which Timmy’s style is cramped by a girl called Brenda with surprising consequences. And in which Elizabeth unexpectedly succumbs to our hero’s charms

Chapter 8

In which Timmy meets an acrobatic dancer called Sonia who is forced to go to unusual lengths in order to secure a platform for her talents

Chapter 9

In which Timmy attempts to repair a rift between a girl called Elvie and her friend, with results only a little less disturbing than those arising when he responds to the advances of Carla, an amorous Italian with an identity problem

Chapter 10

In which Timmy meets Mrs. Evans during a convivial evening at the local, and finds that her predilection for cleanliness has some remarkable inconsistencies

Chapter 11

In which Timmy decides the time has come to settle down and enjoys a last fling at an unusual party given by Sandy—an evening which has a number of unexpected consequences

Also Available in the Confessions Ebook Series

Copyright

About the Publisher

How did it all start?

When I was young and in want of cash (which was all the time) I used to trudge round to the local labour exchange during holidays from school and university to sign on for any job that was going – mason’s mate, loader for Speedy Prompt Delivery, part-time postman, etc.

During our tea and fag breaks (‘Have a go and have a blow’ was the motto) my fellow workers would regale me with stories of the Second World War: ‘Very clean people, the Germans’, or of throwing Irishmen through pub windows (men who had apparently crossed the Irish sea in hard times and were prepared to work for less than the locals). This was interesting, but what really stuck in my mind were the recurring stories of the ‘mate’ or the ‘brother-in-law’. The stories about these men (rarely about the speaker himself) were about being seduced, to put it genteelly, whilst on the job by (it always seemed to be) ‘a posh bird’:

‘Oeu-euh. Would you care for a cup of tea?’

‘And he was up her like a rat up a drainpipe’

These stories were prolific. Even one of the – to my eyes – singularly uncharismatic workers had apparently been invited to indulge in carnal capers after a glass of lemonade one hot summer afternoon near Guildford.

Of course, these stories could all have been make-believe or urban myth, but I couldn’t help thinking, with all this repetition, surely there must be something in them?

When writing the series, it seemed unrealistic and undemocratic that Timmy’s naive charms should only appeal to upper class women, so I quickly widened his demographic and put him in situations where any attractive member of the fairer sex might cross his path.

The books were always fun to write and never more so than when they involved Timmy’s family: his Mum, his Dad (prone to nicking weird objects from the lost property office where he worked), his sister Rosie and, perhaps most importantly, his conniving, would be entrepreneur, brother-in-law Sidney Noggett. Sidney was Timmy’s eminence greasy, a disciple of Thatcherism before it had been invented.