Grandad's Band

Tom was looking for a pen in his grandad's desk when he found an old photo. Four young men with long hair and strange clothes were standing in front of a red wall. One of them was sitting behind the drums. He had a big smile, and he looked exactly like Tom.

"Grandad, who is this?" Tom asked. His grandfather, a quiet man who usually reads the newspaper and works in the garden, looked at the photo for a long time. "That's me," he said. "In 1974, in Liverpool. We were called The Wet Socks."

Tom couldn't believe it. His grandad used to play the drums in a rock band! "We used to practice in Danny's garage every Sunday. His mother used to bring us tea and shout at us. We weren't very good, but we were very loud."

"Did you play any concerts?" "One," said Grandad. "Our first and our last. It was at a school dance. We played three songs. During the third song, I hit the drums so hard that one of them broke. Then the lights went out, and the headteacher sent everybody home." Tom laughed. "And after that?" "After that, Danny moved to Manchester, and I met your grandmother. She didn't like loud music."

Now Grandad usually listens to the radio in the kitchen, very quietly. But that night, Tom heard a strange sound from the garage. He opened the door. His grandfather was sitting on an old box, with two wooden spoons in his hands, playing the drums on a bucket. "Don't tell your grandmother," he said.