Planet Janet in Orbit Read Online Free

if I’d ever heard of soap and water. I said I just thought that since this is THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY and scientists can put human ears on mice, one of them might have come up with something more useful, like clothes that stay clean. She said I was in Top Shop not The Twilight Zone .
    The MC came snooping round my room and noticed my new gear. She wanted to know where I got the money. I said Sigmund gave it to me. She said she thought he was meant to be broke. I said some people are willing to make sacrifices for their children.
    I think I’m getting corns. As if I don’t suffer enough!

SUNDAY 22 JULY
    Disha had to go to a gathering of the clan today and none of the lads were home, so I broke down and went over to see Sigmund’s new flat. It’s in Kilburn, which, if you ask me, is one of the most depressing areas in London (and
not
in a Spiritual Angst sort of way, in a what’s-the-point-of-living sort of way – all cheap shops and gloom ). Sigmund’s flat is in this old, grey building behind the bingo hall (see what I mean?). The intercom doesn’t work, the hall smells of damp, and the carpet on the stairs looks like it’s been there since World War I. Sigmund’s flat is at the top (needless to say, there is no lift). It took him a few minutes to get his breath back after we got up the stairs, and then he gave me the Grand Tour (which isn’t going to make Thomas Cook lose any sleep, believe me!). First stop was the hall (about the size of my wardrobe –
sans
the clothes and shoes, of course); next was the bedroom (and BED ROOM pretty much sums it up); after that came the sitting-room (ditto, an accurate description of what you can do in it); then the kitchen (stand-in, not eat-in); and finally the bathroom (the window’s INSIDE the shower!). All of the furniture came from Nan’s. The only remarkable thing in the entire flat was the pair of gold drop earrings on the shelf in the bathroom, where Sigmund keeps his rubber ducks (unless he’s started cross-dressing they definitely aren’t his, so he must already have a new girlfriend!). The entire tour took all of one minute. (It would’ve been even quicker if Sigmund had remembered the trick to opening the bedroom door.) And there isn’t any heating – unless you count the fireplace. He asked me what I thought of the flat and I said I was speechless, which he took as a compliment. Sigmund said he was lucky to get it at a price he could afford. I said I was surprised they hadn’t given it to him. The GOOD NEWS is that there’s no space for me to stay over. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s got bugs. Sigmund made me coffee in his new coffee-maker (it was a good thing I was there or he would’ve forgotten to put the water in!!!). My cup was from the Queen’s first jubilee and his was a souvenir from Blackpool (obviously it’s not just the furniture that came from Nan). The only thing he could find to eat were two stale chocolate biscuits. I said, FOR ME ? You shouldn’t’ve gone to so much trouble! Sigmund lit up a fag with his coffee. I said I thought he’d given up smoking again, and he said that he had but there’s no way he can stick to it when he’s under so much stress. I said in that case maybe he should just admit that he’s never going to quit, since the only people who aren’t stressed are dead .
    For once the MC was home when I got back. I said I thought Sigmund had a girlfriend and she said, “No change there then.” She wanted to know what the flat’s like. I said it’s like a squat – only he has to pay rent. She said he has no one to thank but himself. He made his bed and now he’s got to sleep in it. I said it wasn’t really a bed, it was Nan’s old army cot (does this mean Sigmund and his new girlfriend have to DO IT on the table? She must be a lot smaller than Mrs Kennedy!). All of this made me think. Only a few months ago Sigmund lived in a flat with central heating and beds and matching dinnerware, and now look at him!