Read Online The Generation Game by Sophie Duffy - Free Book Online Page A

Mother and I have slotted into the shop. It has been nearly a year after all. And now this is most definitely Home.
    But Mother is lonely. She misses Auntie Nina so much that she contacts Auntie Sheila. Auntie Sheila is so upset about Lucas that she forgives Helena. Mother and Sheila soon slip back into their
old friendship. They go shopping together, to the theatre together, sip gin and orange on a fine summer evening together. Mother is welcomed back into her old circle of friends because the
situation looks somewhat different now. And it isn’t just Lucas and Nina’s departure that has changed things. It is Bernie that has done that.
    Bernie has been up to his old tricks. This means that Helena is no longer the slut Sheila believed her to be. It is far more likely that Bernie is to blame.
    ‘It wasn’t your fault, Helena. It was ruddy Bernard. He’s moved in with that Welsh woman who runs the antique shop in St Mary’s church.’
    ‘I know, I heard.’
    ‘She’s welcome to him.’
    ‘She’ll soon get fed up.’
    ‘He’s not crawling back to me when she does.’
    Sheila often pops into the shop for the Western Morning News or a packet of Extra Strong Mints, an excuse for a cup of tea and a natter with Helena. If Helena isn’t there, Bob is only too
happy to oblige and put the kettle on.
    ‘Do you take sugar, Mrs Siney?’
    ‘I shouldn’t but I do.’ She taps her tummy. ‘And please call me Sheila.’
    ‘You don’t need to worry on that count, Sheila.’ Bob says, the Bobby Dazzler.
    And Sheila giggles in a way that makes my heart miss a double beat. My hopes are being dashed before my very eyes.
    Then one day another man walks into the shop – and into Mother’s life – and dashes all my hopes. Forever.
    Now I can go back round to play with Toni. Only things have changed here too. Toni is too old to play ponies anymore. Instead she likes to lock the door of her bedroom and
practise make-up skills with her friends from the Grammar. I am allowed into this inner sanctuary not because I am one of the Chosen Few but because they like to practise on me. I am a living,
breathing Girl’s World. I go home with glittery eye shadow and red cheeks that takes all Mother’s elbow grease to scrub off (and a layer of my skin).
    I don’t have to go to Auntie Sheila’s on a Saturday morning anymore but I like being in her house with all those teenagers hanging around. I don’t even especially mind
Terry and his longhaired mates who congregate in Bernie’s double garage (that never houses any of his cars). They meet there, allegedly to play darts and bar billiards but really to smoke and
swear and snigger about Birds. Sometimes, if they are a man down, they let me join in with a tournament just so as I will make them look good.
    But I prefer to spend my time watching Toni and her more refined friends who pretend to be Pan’s People from Top of the Pops , wearing floaty nighties and leaping across
Sheila’s sitting room in practised formations with whimsical expressions on their faces. I like being there, amongst the bustling chaos that was once Sheila’s pristine show home. I like
being there because then I can forget I don’t have Lucas anymore.
    Though of course I do have Wink.
    Wink, remember, is Bob’s neighbour. She lives on her own, two doors down from the shop. Her husband, Mr Gracie, died a long time ago. There is a picture of him in a
polished silver frame on top of her black and white television set. She catches me looking at him one day.
    ‘You’re not to worry, duck,’ she says. ‘I’m not lonely. I’ve got my Captain.’
    She points her stick over at her parrot, perched on top of the telly, her three prized possessions together.
    ‘And don’t forget Bruce,’ I remind her.
    ‘No, dear,’ she says. ‘How could I forget Bruce?’
    Wink has a slightly unhealthy addiction to a new game show on the BBC hosted by Bruce Forsyth and the lovely Anthea Redfern (our very own local girl