“I used to have what is called the box room in our house,” Mr Cliffe said.
“It’s the smallest room in the house, just big enough for a bed.
“One day I went to open the window and the whole thing fell out onto the ground below.
“The glass, the frame, the lot. In those days you’d get a backhander for slamming the door.
“How would I explain this to mum?
“Then there was the time I opened the door of the local church and found hundreds of World War II helmets.
“I thought, I could sell these. The next thing we knew the police were going around the street asking who stole the helmets.
“Stole? I found them?”
A few years back Mr Cliffe realised he had hundreds of interesting stories like this, and decided he’d try his hand at writing them up and collating them in a book.
“We came over to Australia when I was nine,“ he said.
“Within weeks I’d managed to get myself run over by the old ice truck.”
When chatting to Mr Cliffe he is always breaking into a new story.
However, rather than share them all here, why not pick up a copy of the book Nobody? That’s me.
You can buy a copy, or find out more, by visiting @nobodythatsmebook on Facebook.
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