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Our Bread and Butter (Paperback)Linda Taylor (author)
Paperback 180 Pages / Published: 15/12/2011
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Life was crowded in the Guest House and fraught due to constant money worries. There were six competing children, one aging, interfering grandmother, a sickly mother and six resident strangers, who came from such different backgrounds and could be demanding and eccentric. But children are resilient and fun could be found in the least expected places. When we were small, we would share the bath but that could be fun. Gisele, the eldest daughter, would supervise bath day: sitting on the white, metal stool watching that we soaped and rinsed 'all those important little places' as she called them. I can remember how this would make my elder, by 11 months, brother and I giggle. When we were this small we would investigate one another's belly buttons, even though Gisele would tell us to stop doing that. 'Why Gus?' we would query and back came the same silly answer:' they could come undone.' 'Then all yesterday's peas would tumble out!' Johnny would reply and laugh and laugh at this and start me off laughing too. 'You two!' Gisele would declare.' If you don't hurry up and get out of that cold, scummy end, Linda, you'll catch your death!' Being the smallest, I usually took the curved end of the big, enamel- coated, bath and was the last one to finish and step out to Gisele and her big white bath towel, ready to vigorously rub us dry. In hind sight, I don't suppose she enjoyed the task much. She obviously thought it through though because later she would make use of the opportunity to sing to us. She didn't have a very good voice and always tried out on us one or two of her favourite pop singers' songs. This was from Elvis Presley's hits. How could she hope to be any good? He was a man wasn't he and she had hardly any voice at all! She couldn't hit high notes and in point of fact, most of her notes sounded the same. Mary and I were both in the choir at school, so we could tell. John, Mary, three years older than me, and I, decided we should discourage her. 'Don't you like my singing?' she asked one Sunday bath day evening, when we had made enough unappreciative noises -sighing and tutting. 'No.' replied Mary, outspoken as ever. 'Not much' I said softly. 'What about you, Johnny?' she turned to him, hoping for at least one ally. 'It doesn't sound like Elvis, does it? He's much better. I'd rather go and listen to your record player in your room.' Gisele's face would darken. 'You are not to go in my room, Johnny Bishop. Do you hear me? And if I catch you meddling with my Danzette - ' He hung his head, despondent but obediently listening, as children used to do when their elders told them off.
Publisher: Upfront Publishing
Number of pages: 180
Dimensions: 216 x 138 x 15 mm
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