Read Online The Yorkshire Pudding Club by Milly Johnson - Free Book Online
Authors: Milly Johnson
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it out and wrapped it in some newspaper from the nearby recycling bag and put it in the secret place in the garage along with all her other favourite things that Simon didn’t like displayed in the house, but that her heart would not have her throw away.
Chapter 6
Elizabeth woke up on her first day of being unemployed, feeling that she had been properly asleep for no longer than five seconds in the whole night. She dressed, went downstairs, made a long job of a forced piece of toast and then went back to bed again where she slept solidly for three more hours. She felt a lot better for being able to give in to her bodily demands, but she wasn’t used to sitting around doing nothing, and once she was up she was soon twiddling her thumbs and trying to think of something more positive to do than watch reruns of Quincy on the telly. Janey’s suggestion that she decorate her bedroom was becoming more and more attractive by the minute. At present, it was boring magnolia with an old, past-it beige carpet. It needed warming up and some interest of colour–maybe a nice strawberry carpet and creamy pink walls, she thought. She had seen a room decorated like that in a recent magazine and it looked lovely.
Screwing her unruly hair back tightly into a scrunchie, she changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of baggy black leggings, which were going along theinner-thigh seam but were perfectly adequate for painting in. Then she went hunting for sandpaper in the small storehouse in the garden, which had once been an outside loo. Halfway through roughing up the skirting boards, she had to go and change her bra for an old comfy one because the one she had on seemed to be rubbing her raw in strategic places. She put it down to the new washing powder and carried on priming the bedroom, then when it was done, she set off into town to buy some paint.
It was unexpectedly relaxing, wandering up and down the aisles of the decorating giant’s store ‘Just the Job’, and her head emptied of everything but the task in hand–buying brushes, white spirit, undercoat, non-drip gloss and masking tape. It was as she was deciding between the nuances of Candy Floss and Lollipop emulsions that she saw him cross the top of her aisle. Commonsense told her it couldn’t possibly be him because he was in Germany, but her eyes were seeing the indisputable evidence for themselves and there was no mistaking who it was, even after all this time. The sight of him winded her. Her whole body locked. She didn’t know what to do. Yes, she did. She had to get out and find some oxygen to breathe. She pivoted around so sharply that she went the full 360 degrees and ended up back where she started. It appeared the small chemical factory that had blown up inside her had temporarily disabled her ability to co-ordinate.
From time to time, she had wondered what she would do if she saw him again, and presumed she would be totally indifferent to him after all these years, maybeeven ignore him or at best give him no more than a second glance. Yeah, right! Her head was swirling, memories were bombarding her as fresh as the day they were made, and the overwhelming effect of it all was making her stomach so jittery that she wanted to vomit.
All the things she had told him. Everything…
She edged round for a second look but he was gone. Where? She dumped her trolley and crept across the top of the aisles, checking down each one like a crap actor in a cheap spy film. Where the flipping heck was he? She felt someone come up behind her and she jumped back, flattening herself against the Black & Deckers, but it wasn’t him, just someone who looked at her as if suspecting she might have escaped from a secure mental hospital. She doubled back, looking out for the sight of his black leather jacket and hoping that no one was watching all this on CCTV. A pulse was throbbing in her ears that totally drowned out the tinny tones of the Musak that was struggling out of the overhead
Chapter 6
Elizabeth woke up on her first day of being unemployed, feeling that she had been properly asleep for no longer than five seconds in the whole night. She dressed, went downstairs, made a long job of a forced piece of toast and then went back to bed again where she slept solidly for three more hours. She felt a lot better for being able to give in to her bodily demands, but she wasn’t used to sitting around doing nothing, and once she was up she was soon twiddling her thumbs and trying to think of something more positive to do than watch reruns of Quincy on the telly. Janey’s suggestion that she decorate her bedroom was becoming more and more attractive by the minute. At present, it was boring magnolia with an old, past-it beige carpet. It needed warming up and some interest of colour–maybe a nice strawberry carpet and creamy pink walls, she thought. She had seen a room decorated like that in a recent magazine and it looked lovely.
Screwing her unruly hair back tightly into a scrunchie, she changed into an old T-shirt and a pair of baggy black leggings, which were going along theinner-thigh seam but were perfectly adequate for painting in. Then she went hunting for sandpaper in the small storehouse in the garden, which had once been an outside loo. Halfway through roughing up the skirting boards, she had to go and change her bra for an old comfy one because the one she had on seemed to be rubbing her raw in strategic places. She put it down to the new washing powder and carried on priming the bedroom, then when it was done, she set off into town to buy some paint.
It was unexpectedly relaxing, wandering up and down the aisles of the decorating giant’s store ‘Just the Job’, and her head emptied of everything but the task in hand–buying brushes, white spirit, undercoat, non-drip gloss and masking tape. It was as she was deciding between the nuances of Candy Floss and Lollipop emulsions that she saw him cross the top of her aisle. Commonsense told her it couldn’t possibly be him because he was in Germany, but her eyes were seeing the indisputable evidence for themselves and there was no mistaking who it was, even after all this time. The sight of him winded her. Her whole body locked. She didn’t know what to do. Yes, she did. She had to get out and find some oxygen to breathe. She pivoted around so sharply that she went the full 360 degrees and ended up back where she started. It appeared the small chemical factory that had blown up inside her had temporarily disabled her ability to co-ordinate.
From time to time, she had wondered what she would do if she saw him again, and presumed she would be totally indifferent to him after all these years, maybeeven ignore him or at best give him no more than a second glance. Yeah, right! Her head was swirling, memories were bombarding her as fresh as the day they were made, and the overwhelming effect of it all was making her stomach so jittery that she wanted to vomit.
All the things she had told him. Everything…
She edged round for a second look but he was gone. Where? She dumped her trolley and crept across the top of the aisles, checking down each one like a crap actor in a cheap spy film. Where the flipping heck was he? She felt someone come up behind her and she jumped back, flattening herself against the Black & Deckers, but it wasn’t him, just someone who looked at her as if suspecting she might have escaped from a secure mental hospital. She doubled back, looking out for the sight of his black leather jacket and hoping that no one was watching all this on CCTV. A pulse was throbbing in her ears that totally drowned out the tinny tones of the Musak that was struggling out of the overhead
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