Free Here Come the Girls by Milly Johnson Page A

grease?’
    ‘That’s what she said.’
    Funny, thought David. She never said she was working this morning. He hoped that didn’t affect the Sunday dinner being made.
    ‘Olive!’ screeched Doreen.
    ‘Oh shut up, Mam, I’m coming.’
    ‘Fetch my fags, David. And my lighter. They’re by the kettle.’
    ‘Hang on.’ David plodded down the stairs and into the kitchen and there he found the envelope propped up against Doreen’s Black Superkings. He ripped it open and read it.
    ‘She’s gone on holiday,’ he said to himself. ‘What does she mean, she’s gone on holiday?’
    ‘If you don’t hurry up, Olive, I’ll wet myself, I will,’ called Doreen.
    ‘Shurrup a minute, Mam.’ Again David read the note. What drug was Olive on? She didn’t have the money to go on holiday. Or any decent clothes to take with her. What was she on about, ‘going on holiday’?
    ‘I warned you, Olive!’ called Doreen. ‘I couldn’t wait. I’ve wet myself. You’ll have to get a cloth and clean me up. You should have come when I called.’
    David’s lips pulled back over his teeth. He didn’t know what little stunt Olive was playing, but when she eventually got tired of it and came home, they were going to have serious words.

Chapter 17
    The bus crossed the border into Southampton. Olive was in raptures looking at all the lovely posh houses that lined the main road into the city. She knew she would never live in anything that big, but she’d hoped for something better than a grotty terrace house full of cigarette smoke, nicotine-stained walls and kitchen appliances snatched from the Ark. David had promised her the world when they were courting. He certainly had the gift of the gab in those days. He walked tall and straight, not weighed down by a paunch, and had a round, smiley, cheeky face. He kissed her a lot too and cuddled her, which she loved, because her parents had never been demonstrative.
    Olive tried to remember when he’d stopped putting his arm around her and telling her he loved her, but couldn’t. These days it was only when he wanted sex that David touched her. And, funnily enough, when she thought about it, his back seemed perfectly okay when they were doing that! But in their courting days, he was full of ambitious, exciting plans. He was going to build them a big house to their own design, and Olive was going to grow vegetables in their massive garden and sell them to top-quality farm shops. She loved being outside in the open air and growing things. There was only a yard at the back of Doreen’s house, just big enough for a few pots of tomatoes and the wheelie bins. They were only supposed to be living with her mother-in-law for a few months when they married thirteen years ago.
    Ven nudged Roz awake. ‘Oy, sleeping beauty. We’re nearly there.’
    Roz stretched the sleep out of her long limbs. ‘What time is it?’
    ‘Half past one.’
    Clive, the bus driver, had started on another tack now. He was telling everyone to feel sorry for him because he had to go back and pick up another load of passengers tomorrow, but after that he was off for a few days. He had never been on a cruise and didn’t think he ever would either, because he would only want one of the posh suites with a balcony and he couldn’t afford that.
    ‘He wants to stop eating takeaways then,’ sniffed Roz. ‘He could afford to charter a ship after a week with all the money he’d save. The big fat get.’
    ‘You are rotten,’ laughed Ven. Roz’s wit always did have a caustic edge to it, more so these past few years, but she could also be very funny. She started to do a heavily accented and wicked impression of Clive that had Ven in fits.
    ‘On Tuesdays, Mother and I like to share a plate of crispy pancakes and a big tin of marrowfat peas whilst watching reruns of Crossroads on Saddo TV. Well, when I say shur I eat them all because Mother has been dead for two yurs and so she doesn’t eat much. She’s just happy sitting in