I Think I'll Just Curl Up and Die by Rosie Rushton Read Free Book Online

collar.
    â€˜What time tomorrow does Bilu arrive?’ asked Mr Banerji.
    â€˜Six o’clock,’ said Sumitha at once. ‘He’s collecting his car from the headmaster’s house and coming straight over.’
    â€˜Such a personable boy,’ murmured Rajiv.
    Strike while the iron is hot, thought Sumitha.
    â€˜Dad, would you mind if I took Bilu along to The Stomping Ground on Saturday night?’ She held her breath.
    Ah, thought Sumitha’s mother – so that was what all this helpfulness has been about.
    â€˜That club place?’ queried her father with a frown. ‘The one you went to without my permission?’
    â€˜Yes, but I wouldn’t do that again, I’ve learned my lesson,’ said Sumitha quickly, putting on what she hoped was a penitent expression. ‘That’s why I’m asking. It’ll be fine – Bilu will look after me,’ she added.
    â€˜Well,’ said her father doubtfully, ‘I am not sure what his family would think of my allowing my daughter in such a place. Bilu has been brought up with high ideals, you know.’
    â€˜Which is why I would be fine with him,’ ventured Sumitha. ‘We could ask him.’
    â€˜All right,’ agreed her father ‘But I think you will find he will be against it. And if he is, that is the end of the matter.’
    â€˜Yes, Dad,’ said Sumitha meekly. She was pretty sure she was home and dry.
    While Sumitha was busy buttering up her father, Jemma was being buttered up by her mum.
    â€˜Your father’s playing in the Golf Club One Day Tournament on Sunday and I thought it would be a lovely idea if we all went along,’ said Mrs Farrant. ‘They’re having a family day with the pool open, and games for the little ones – won’t that be fun?’
    â€˜Hilarious,’ muttered Jemma, flicking through her new
Yell!
magazine. ‘Oh Mum, do I have to?’
    â€˜Well, of course, darling. We’ve only just joined the club and it will be a good opportunity for you to make some nice friends. There are some very important people at that club,’ she added proudly, as if she had personally placed them all there.
    Jemma sighed. ‘It’ll be sooo boring – and I’ve got loads of homework,’ she said in a sudden flash of inspiration.
    â€˜Well, then, you had better do that on Saturday evening instead of going to the club, hadn’t you?’ said her mother, with a smile.
    â€˜OK, I’ll come.’ Jemma sighed. ‘If I must.’
    â€˜That’s it, petal – you’ll enjoy it once you’re there. Shall I iron that pretty little skirt with the seagulls on it?’
    â€˜NO!’ cried Jemma.
‘I’ll
choose something – OK?’
    Claire Farrant sighed as Jemma retreated to her room.
    Jemma was growing up and even she couldn’t deny it anylonger. She didn’t want her mother fussing over her – indeed, sometimes Claire felt as though no one wanted her any more. Sam was almost eight and interested only in football and Xbox and now that the twins were at fulltime nursery, the days seemed very long.
    It had been great at the crèche. Surrounded by all those little ones, doing finger painting and playing in the sand had reminded her of the days when Jemma was little. And lovable. And biddable. But Ellie, the regular girl, had got over her bug and was back in full swing. Where do I go from here? thought Claire.
    Similar thoughts were weighing heavily on Henry Joseph’s mind that morning. He had just shown a couple barely out of their teens round one of the new starter homes on the Ibstock estate, and become increasingly depressed as he listened to their excited chatter. It reminded him of when he and Anona got married, and lived in that poky little flat at the top of an old Victorian house. But they had thought it was paradise.
    He had had such hopes, such aspirations. Oh, he knew that by many