No! I Don’t Need Reading Glasses! Read Online Free Page A

lie – there
is
a remote chance we might stay on, but it all depends whether we like it or not. And I’m sure we won’t. Now you’ve introduced the appalling idea that we might all say “Gee whizz” it’s sounding more unattractive by the minute.’
    At this point Gene, realising I was upset, came up and put his little hand on my arm.
    â€˜Why is Granny crying?’ he asked his father.
    â€˜She’s upset we’re going away,’ said Jack, ‘but it’ll be fine, Mum. We’ll be in touch all the time.’
    â€˜Don’t worry, Granny,’ said Gene to me, repeating the words of his father. ‘We’ll be in touch all the time.’
    â€˜I’m fine,’ I said, trying to pull myself together. ‘And you’ll have a lovely time, darling.’
    â€˜It’s all assuming I can do the job!’ added Chrissie. ‘They may sack me after a couple of months!’
    â€˜And I’m going to an American school!’ said Gene, tugging at my sleeve. ‘Look, Granny, look at the dinosaur I’ve just drawn! Look, can you see his teeth? And that’s you – you’re on his back, having a ride! And you haven’t got those lines under your eyes any more!’
    â€˜Oh, lovely, darling,’ I said, trying to recover and, inside, to take all this in, and not burst into tears again and lie on the floor wailing and gnashing my teeth and begging them not to go. ‘Well, it’ll be a great opportunity!’ With a superhuman effort I tried to look on the bright side.
    â€˜Oh, Mum, I know you’ll miss us and we’ll miss you, but you can come over and visit and we’ll be coming back, it’s not that far away. And there’s always Skype!’
    Apparently Chrissie’s been offered a brilliant job, marketing her company’s beauty products. As a lifelong soap-and-water girl, if I can even call myself ‘girl’ any more, I simply don’t understand the obsession with the kind of ‘products’ that Chrissie markets, but she always looks gorgeous so perhaps they do some good. Personally I put a good skin down to genetics, but I keep my mouth shut when she’s around. So sweet – on my birthday she always gives me amazingly expensive creams, but to be honest I just pass them straight on to Michelle, who can’t believe her luck.
    Anyway, I was trying desperately to convince myself it was a great opportunity for the family, and Jack can find work out there, too, and of course there was a bit of me that’s really thrilled for them and it’ll be exciting and good for Gene. And yet, on the other hand, I felt so frightful, and so immensely sad, I just couldn’t stay for very long afterwards.
    â€˜At least it’s not Australia,’ I kept telling myself, as I drove home. I had to pull over repeatedly to wipe away the tears that were misting up my glasses. ‘New York is just a hop and skip away. You could almost go over for the day.’
    Then, ‘And there’s always Skype.’
    But what the hell is Skype, anyway? I mean I know it’s some sort of photo thing where you can see each other, but that’s all. I’ll have to ask James.
    When I got home at five o’clock I broke one of my resolutions and poured myself an extremely large glass of white wine – I had to get a new bottle out of the elephant cupboard where all the drink is kept. I felt so bleak I had to sing a song loudly as I passed it. The elephant cupboard? It’s where Gene and I even now play ‘elephants’. Children always see their parents as parents – mum and dad. But I’m convinced that until they reach a certain age, grandchildren regard their grandparents not as grandparents but, rather, as very big children, people to play games with.
    Anyway – the elephant game. It involves Gene going into the cupboard under the stairs, as I walk about in the sitting