Vintage by Maxine Linnell Read Free Book Online Page B

Eventually. I’m frozen solid.
    We seem to have won. I completely lost the plot when the teams changed ends.
    We head off home.
    â€œWhat are you wearing tonight?”
    She seems to be a bit of a control freak. Kind of useful. It helps me to fit in.
    â€œDon’t know. What do you think?”
    â€œHow about that empire line dress you made – Simplicity, was it?” Never heard of them. Terrible name for a designer. Sounds like stuff made in a cottage.
    â€œWhich one?” Playing for time.
    â€œYou know, the navy blue one.”
    It sounds terrible to me. The words dress and navy blue kind of make sense. Empire line sounds like a ship.
    Maybe some kind of sailor costume.
    Cringe.
    â€œTell you what, I’ll come round to yours after the game, then we can have a look. You must have something. There’s no time to make a new one. It’ll be a laugh anyway.”
    â€œCome and have lunch with us then.”
    The invitation is out before I notice. My mum wouldn’t care. Just look in the freezer. Use whatever we want. She’s probably out on some date. Or pulling the kitchen apart.
    I think about the note behind the cupboard. Want to go home. Again.
    â€œLunch? That sounds posh. Sure your mam won’t mind?”
    â€œNo, I could text her…”
    â€œWhat do you mean, text her?”
    â€œNo, it’s fine. She won’t mind. I’m sure.”
    But I’m not sure. Don’t know what the rules are here. So many hidden rules. Suppose there are hidden rules everywhere. But you kind of know them without being told. You don’t even realise they’re rules. You just do them. Or maybe if you know what they are, you don’t do them.
    Because you don’t do rules.
    I feel really sorry for this girl, Marilyn. She’s a total disaster. No wonder she wants to get out of here. Go to uni. But how will she get on? When she’s there? Will she cope on her own? Mum says I wouldn’t cope on my own away from home. Anyway it’s not safe. So I’ll have to apply to local places. Much cheaper that way too. Less loan to pay back.
    Can’t believe it. I’m sounding sensible.
    Not sure whether I’m feeling bad for Marilyn or bad for myself.
    I remember the rest of her diary entry.
    There’s one thing I’ll do for her tonight.
    I’ll get her kissed.
    I’ve got to do it.
    Even if it’s some totally disgusting boy I’d never look twice at. It’s one of those random acts of kindness Mum’s always talking about. Marilyn can’t be seventeen and never kissed a boy. Or a girl of course. But I think it would be safer with a boy. Don’t think they’ve heard of being a lesbian in 1962.
    I’ll do it. Tonight. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t help her out while I’m here.
    And who knows, I might enjoy it. If there’s anyone remotely fit.
    We’re walking up the path to the house. I realise I don’t know this girl’s name.
    I don’t know how Marilyn’s mum will take her coming round.
    I remember I don’t know anything.

Saturday morning. Marilyn turned over in bed and decided to go back to sleep. It was safe in bed. Nobody would disturb her. She was sure she could sleep on till lunch time. Then Kyle would come over and they’d go out to the youth club. She’d see Saleem again.
    She drifted off towards a beautiful dream of her and Saleem. They were holding hands, walking on a golden beach at sunset.
    A shout from the landing woke her up.
    â€œHolly! Holly! It’s ten past nine, and you’ve got to be at the coffee shop by half past. Come on, get up!”
    It was Holly’s mum.
    Marilyn sighed and rolled over. She pulled the duvet up over her head. Why should she want to go to the coffee shop? She didn’t drink coffee. It was bitter and powdery.
    â€œHolly!”
    Marilyn groaned. Holly’s mother knocked, then came in.
    â€œHave you washed