Free Vintage by Maxine Linnell Page A

shocking. I’m stunned into silence.
    She tries again.
    â€œHow late? The curse?”
    What curse? Is there a curse – on Marilyn?
    I can’t stop the crying now.
    â€œShh. Your mam will hear.”
    She edges closer. Puts an arm round me. Not hugging or anything. I feel lonely. Want a tissue. Sniff.
    â€œWhere’s your hankie? Here, have mine.”
    She pulls a little cotton handkerchief out of her sleeve. Passes it to me. Work hard on not looking disgusted. I think she’s trying to help.
    â€œIt’s nearly clean,” she says. That doesn’t help at all. But I blow my nose on it anyway. Pass it back.
    â€œYou could get married, I suppose. But that would be the end of all your plans. Are you going to keep it then? Or have it adopted?” Looks like the words taste bad.
    I finally get it.
    â€œPregnant? You think I’m pregnant?”
    Not that I haven’t ever thought I was. Every month. Since I started having sex. Counting the days off on the calendar. Even though I’m on the pill.
    â€œAren’t you?”
    â€œNo! I’m not. I’ve never…”
    Uncertain. Who am I to know if Marilyn’s ever done it? I’ve only lived in her body about eighteen hours. Could she be pregnant?
    I remember the journal, and I’m sure. Nobody tells lies in their own journal.
    â€œNo, of course not. I’ve never even been kissed.”
    â€œOh. Sorry. I thought…”
    â€œNo, it’s okay. Really. It’s fine. Let’s forget it.”
    â€œYeah. Let’s talk about what we’re going to wear tonight. At the club.”
    The moment’s gone. I can’t tell her the truth now. Even if I ever could. It’s down to me to find a way back. Hope so much Marilyn finds my note. She has to.
    I stumble through an hour, looking at the clothes. Tiny dark brown wardrobe in the corner. It’s like a charity shop rail in there. Most of the clothes are home made, horrible. Not like the vintage shop. Must have come later.
    â€œYou choose. I’m hopeless at this.”
    â€œI told you, the navy dress. This one.”
    She gets out the dress and lays it on the bed.
    â€œWith American tan stockings.”
    She lays out the stockings. A kind of orange colour.
    â€œAnd the red jacket you got from C&A.”
    The red jacket lies on top of the dress. Sleeves arranged so the arms look folded. Look at the collection. Like a body. Lying there flattened out. Dead. Like someone’s just moved out of it.
    But I’m not sure whose body it is.

Marilyn could hear bangs and thuds coming from downstairs, then a shout:
    â€œHolly!”
    She froze for a moment.
    â€œHolly!!”
    She remembered Holly’s mum snoring on the settee last night, and she felt braver. She went downstairs to find Holly’s mum in the kitchen in a cloud of dust.
    â€œIt fell off!”
    â€œFell off?”
    â€œThe cupboard. I was trying to ease it off the wall. The screws weren’t holding very well, so I thought I could give it a pull.”
    Not with my dad putting it up there, Marilyn thought. If he put something up, it stayed up. She couldn’t believe what a waste it was, taking down those cupboards.
    There were big holes in the plaster on the wall. The packets and tins were covered in a thick grey-brown dust that filled the air. Marilyn coughed.
    â€œYou go out of here, you’ll get your asthma.” Holly’s mum wiped her dirty hand on her forehead.
    â€œNo, it’s okay. Let me help.” She didn’t know what to do, but it sounded like what Holly’s mum wanted. She looked at the woman’s face and saw she was regarding her curiously.
    â€œYou seem so much brighter this last day or so…” she looked away then, as if she’d said something wrong. “Is Kyle still here?”
    â€œHe went a while ago. His dad wanted him back.”
    â€œPoor Kyle. He was so young when his mum died. Can’t