Vintage Read Online Free Page B

morning,”
    Lucky you. No job, just the house to look after. My mum has to do both. Doesn’t she let me know. But I’m not saying it. Swinging my legs. Looking down at my feet.
    â€œAnd you’re sitting there reading your stupid romances.”
    I want to say I’m researching. For a project. It works with Mum. When I’m looking at some specially gruesome website.
    But the words don’t come.
    â€œNothing to say?” She folds her arms. Chin goes back into her neck. I’m noticing that. Wondering how she does it. Noticing the apron. No shape. Covered in little flowers. Crossing over in front. Tied round the back.
    â€œI give up. I’ve got better things to do than wait around here with you being so mardy. Your father will be back soon and I’ve got to get the tea. I was going to make hot buttered toast in front of the fire, but the way things are we’ll have tinned spaghetti. And it’s your turn to wash up, my lady.”
    I open my mouth. To remind her we’ve got a dishwasher. But she turns. Leaves the room. With a spectacular slam of the door. Watch the blue dressing gown swinging on the hook. Grip the quilt on the bed.
    I want to go home. I hate home. But I want to be there. Now. Badly. With my own mum. And my own stuff. There. I’ve said it. A hot tear’s running down my right cheek.
    I wipe it off with the back of my hand.

There was a little knock on the door and the handle rattled. Marilyn’s mind had drifted off for a few minutes, imagining being at university and her bedsit. She almost persuaded herself that everything wasn’t happening, she was back at home. The knock made her jump. Nobody would knock on her bedroom door, they just came in. She put a hand to her hair, remembering.
    â€œHolly!”
    She sat up, wondering what to do.
    â€œIt’s Kyle, let me in!”
    At least she knew who Kyle was, and that he was friendly enough. She got up and drew the bolt, then opened the door.
    Kyle was standing there. She was beginning to know the tall figure with rounded shoulders. He looked like he’d lost something very important, and had no hope of ever finding it again.
    Kyle walked into the room as if he was used to being in girls’ bedrooms. No boy had ever been in Marilyn’s room. Her mother would have gone mad. But Kyle seemed to be at home here.
    He hesitated. “Sorry, are you doing something? They let me out at the police station, but I’m in big trouble.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œThey rang my dad and everything.”
    Marilyn must have looked as confused as she felt.
    â€œDad’s climbing the walls. And Joe’s found out about me borrowing his car.”
    Marilyn didn’t know what to say, but at least she could listen.
    Kyle looked at her. “Are you okay? You still look a bit strange.”
    She put a hand to her hair again.
    â€œI – feel a bit strange. Can I tell you something?”
    This was a big risk.
    â€œCourse.”
    She took a deep breath. “I’m not who you think I am.”
    â€œI know, you never are. That’s why I like you, you’re never the same, and you always ask impossible questions.”
    â€œNo, really. I’m not – Holly.”
    â€œAre you thinking of changing your name again?”
    Marilyn gulped. “No, not changing. My real name’s Marilyn, Marilyn Bolton.”
    â€œOkay, Marilyn Bolton.” Kyle smiled as if this was some kind of joke. “And where do you live, and how come you’re in Holly’s bedroom? And how come you look exactly like her?”
    â€œI live – here. But…”
    â€œYou know, Holly, sometimes you take it all a bit far. I’m in real trouble, and you have to have an identity crisis.”
    â€œNo, it’s not that. I think – something’s happened. I’m in the wrong time. What year are we in?”
    â€œDon’t be stupid. 2010. All