Guess What, I Love You

Killy has written a book, "Switch On Your Super Self," and two subtitles he can't choose between. So at bedtime he asks Dakota, who pitches her own book first, asks to be the illustrator, and gives her verdict on the book.

It's 1987. Killy is twelve. His mum couldn't afford the Nike Firestrikes — £35 soft leather boots with orange stitching. She bought a £5 pair of plasticky, oversized Mitre boots from the corner of the shop instead. He cried in the store. But because they were too big, he found a new ability: scooping the ball almost vertically, higher than anyone else. The rigid plastic helped him kick harder. He scored 44 goals that season and won Player of the Year, presented by David Pleat of Luton Town FC. In the recording, Dakota asks what colour his hair was when he played. The answer is not silver. The conversation ends with a debate about whether mummy is getting old.

And guess what? The magic was never in the boots. It was always already in him.

His daughter typed his name into YouTube. She was seven years old and she found footage of him she'd never seen — her dad, younger, painting music live on a stage with famous bands in front of thousands of people.

She started asking questions. And he struggled to get exact dates — not because he didn't know the facts, but because he'd never sat down and looked at his whole life at once.

So he drew a 50-year timeline. When he looked at it, he saw patterns — and a golden thread running through all of it. Now he's telling his life stories, with his kids, to inspire his kids… and anyone finding their own way.

He was nine years old on a council estate in Leighton Buzzard. He drew Mr T's van, wrote a letter, and addressed the envelope "The A Team, Hollywood, USA" — no street, no postcode, no stamp. He walked to the post box at the end of the estate on his own. Six months later, a package arrived from America: a hand-signed photograph from the entire cast. Nobody got packages from America on a council estate in the mid-1980s. In the recording, Dakota asks if the cast are 'probably dead by now.' They talk about the pen pal letter she once sent with a knitting needle inside it. When Killy asks who she'd write a letter to if she could write to anyone in the whole world, she falls asleep before she can answer.

But guess what? Every letter you write with your honest heart is a spell cast into the universe.