Read Online Vintage by Maxine Linnell - Free Book Online Page A

this sorted out.” Marilyn held out the plug and the phone.
    â€œYou’re such a technophobe.” Kyle was distracted. He switched the phone on and it made a funny sound. “You can change your ring tone later. I’ll put it on charge then at least you’ll be able to use it.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œHolly, you know what?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou’re my best mate and everything, but I don’t get you. You know?” Marilyn didn’t know, but she nodded.
    â€œSometimes I feel like I don’t know you at all. I don’t trust people easily. You know – since my mum and everything.”
    Marilyn mumbled. This felt like very deep water and she didn’t think she could swim.
    â€œShe’d be forty now. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”
    â€œOh.” There was no way that Marilyn could keep up with this. She was obviously supposed to know something she didn’t know. And Kyle wouldn’t believe what she did know. Or he might get upset. But then he was a boy. He wouldn’t get upset, or cry.
    â€œI miss her – you know? Dad’s cool and everything, but your mum’s important. Like your mum – she’s great.”
    Marilyn thought of her own mum, working away in the kitchen. She never knew whether she’d be silent, or screaming at Marilyn for some completely unknown reason. She didn’t know who her mum was. She’d never thought of that before. She swallowed.
    Kyle was crying. She’d never seen a boy cry. She didn’t think boys cried, ever. When her brother cried her mother said boys didn’t cry and laughed at him. He soon stopped.
    But Kyle was crying. Marilyn held out her arms to him. He let her hold him, his face buried in her shoulder, for a minute or two. She’d never held a boy like this. She’d never even touched a boy, except for her brother, when he was little.
    â€œIt’s okay, I just need to let it out. Dad says he’s had to learn to do that, since she died. We’re always blubbing.”
    Marilyn let go of him and he wiped his eyes and picked up the phone.
    â€œRight, let’s get this mobile working.”

Sheila and I escape from the table. In the end. She’s better at making polite conversation than me. I’m beginning to like her. Good, considering she seems to be Marilyn’s only friend. Great for my project. The real inside story on 1962. From real people living here. Sheila will be my first interviewee.
    â€œSo what’s the most important thing in your life?”
    She looks at me. “Is this one of those quizzes? Okay, boys, friends, music, clothes, my family.”
    Nothing new there then. Is everyone the same? Would it be the same in 1952? 1942 even? 1842?
    â€œWhat about you?”
    â€œHm. Same I suppose. Only my career’s important to me. Really important. I want to succeed, don’t you? Earn loads, go on amazing holidays, have a great house.”
    I’m getting carried away.
    â€œJust find a rich man. That’s what Mam says.”
    I’m shocked. “You can’t just live off some guy.”
    â€œYou don’t want children then?”
    â€œCourse I do. When I’m older. About thirty.”
    â€œThirty? That’s very old. I’d like children in the next couple of years. Two, a boy and a girl.” She looks down at her hands. I notice how thin they are. “But that means I’ve got to find someone, a good husband, pretty soon.”
    â€œYou’re only seventeen. Anyway, you don’t have to have a man around to have children.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œLoads of people have kids on their own.”
    Sheila’s looking dead scared.
    I realise I’ve been talking as if she knows who I am. As if we’re in my world, not years ago. Totally bad move. Correct myself.
    â€œNo, of course, you’re right. You need to find a man, right. Anyone in