Read Amy Pleb Page 5


  “Why is it Amy, that it takes us almost an hour of nagging, begging and pleading with you to get into the bath and another hour of nagging, begging and pleading to get you out?”

  “Why when you've been in the bath do your fingers look like prunes?”

  “Why when you spend all that time in the bath, do you spend more time messing about, than actually washing yourself?”

  “And Why Amy do you spend the best part of an hour in the bath (this is my mum talking), and spend two minutes washing your hair?”

  “And why is it Amy when you have been on a sleep over that your tooth brush never comes out of the bag?”

  “And on one occasion we noticed that you had not brushed your teeth for 4 days?”

  “And how is it Amy that whenever you do brush your teeth, you are always dressed and nearly always spill toothpaste on your school blouse or on your tops before you go out, so the world and his cat can see the white marks of toothpaste a mile off?”

  I guess I have to face up to it; I am like what my dad calls me an Alice Muckack.

  I think too that I have to face up to the fact that, I am Amy Pleb Model daughter, not.

  Here is a quick note from Mr and Mrs Pleb.

  But despite all our protests of untidiness, not washing or not cleaning your teeth.

  Amy you’re still our only child and you are a model daughter.

  You’re good and Kind.

  You are thoughtful and you always think of others before yourself.

  And to us you will always be the best daughter any parents could ever have.

  But you still have to tidy your room on Sunday or else.

  Signed Calamity and Arthur Pleb.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amy Pleb and the Bad Hair Morning.

  Just picture its 8.15 am in the morning and I've been up for about 15 minutes. I am in my bedroom and getting ready for school. My mum has just called me to go down for my breakfast.

  But I am in no mood for breakfast and did not go when I was called. I am sat at my dressing table looking at myself in the mirror and I am in tears as result. I noticed that there is a tuft of hair, stuck up on the top of my head. I had done everything to try to get it to lay flat. But it would not. I tried everything I could think of to get it to perform but it was having none of it.

  I had brushed it, combed it, patted it, cajoled it, even sang to it but it was having none of it.

  Please lay flat tuft.

  Please lay flat.

  Please lay flat.

  Or I'll wear a hat.

  I had wet my hair with a damp comb but it would not lay flat.

  If my Grandad Pleb was here he would have said.

  “Well girly it's stood up like a chapel hat peg.”

  “Amy” my mum shouted again from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Amy Breakfast”

  I shouted back down

  “I can't come down”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can't!”

  My mum then came up stairs and found me crying at the mirror.

  “Look Mum!”

  “Oh.” Said my mum.

  “I can't go to school like this!”

  My mum said nothing but just came over to where I was sat and took two hair clips from a drawer and fastened them to the said tuft. The tuft was now lying flat and my hair looked great. No more problem.

  “Right Amy, are you ready for breakfast?”

  “Yes mum.”

  “Come on then or we'll be late for school.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Amy Pleb and the Big Zit.

  It is Thursday morning and I am up again at 8.15. I am in my bedroom getting ready for school. I look in the mirror again. But as I take a look, a large spot has appeared on my face overnight. It's not at the side or somewhere that can be hidden by my hair or by a collar, but right in the centre of my forehead.

  I take a long sorry look at it and think that's huge!

  My mum again shouts to me from down stairs. “Amy Breakfast.”

  But I don't reply. I just run down stairs.

  “Look at this mum!”

  My mum just looked at me. “Look at what love?”

  “This on my forehead!”

  “Oh.” Mum replied.

  “Yes Oh.”

  “I can't go to school like this mum I look like a right dork!”

  “You don't look like a dork everyone gets a spot every now and then.”

  “I know mum but why does it have to be right in the middle of my forehead? Where everyone at school can see it?”

  “Why can't it be somewhere, where no one can see it?”

  “That's life Amy.”

  “I just can't go to school mum, everyone will just laugh their heads off. Alfie Woodbeaver will laugh that much, he'll wet himself.

  Mini Mead will be calling me zity face all day long and no one will play with me at break day time. I'm doomed!”

  “Right come on lets go back upstairs Amy let’s see what I can do to cover it up.”

  I went back upstairs with mum.

  She sat me down at the dressing table and started to brush my hair. She pulled my hair forward into a type of fringe.

  I had not had a fringe for a couple years now and I preferred to part my hair, to expose my forehead. But all mum did was brush it so it would cover the offending spot.

  “There Amy that's fine!”

  “Wow mum that's just great!”

  “Right Amy lets have some breakfast.”

  “Ok mum!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Amy Pleb and all the Interruptions

  Its tea time and I am at home. I have just had my tea after being at school all day. I am sat on the settee in the lounge. And I am trying to read my book which I am reading as part of my homework. But I am frustrated, you know how it is.

  You settle down for a good read and what happens. Nothing but interruption after interruption.

  First my mum comes in.

  Asking me “have you got your PE Kit ready for tomorrow?”

  “Yes Mum!”

  “Where is it?”

  “It's on the chair in the hall way!”

  “Ok Love!”

  Then dad comes home.

  “Hi Amy how ya doing. Ok?”

  “Ok Dad!”

  “Had a good day at School?”

  “Yes!”

  “Have you done your homework?”

  “I am doing it dad I have to read this book!”

  “Ok I'll leave ya to it.”

  My dad then turns to leave the room but not before and to my complete revolt kisses me on the forehead and squeezes my cheeks. I pull away from him.

  “Sorry Amy. Am I annoying you?”

  “Yes a bit dad I have been trying to read this same paragraph for the past five minutes!”

  “Well excuse me!” My dad said jokingly.

  “I'll get off the face of the earth!”

  “I wish you would dad!”

  “Don't ya love me Amy?” My dad said going all coy.

  “Am I chopped liver?”

  “Yes Dad!”

  “Ok if I'm not wanted?”

  “You’re wanted dad I just don't want you right now!”

  My dad took the hint and went to see my mum in the kitchen.

  Just then there was a knock on the door and my dad went to answer it.

  My dad opened the door and he shouted Amy it's for you.

  “Who is it?”

  “It's Steffi!”

  Steffi is the girl from across the lane and is three years younger than me. She's a right pain at times and I could not be bothered with her now. She also ruins my street cred with kids my age.

  “Come and talk to her!” Dad shouted.

  I put my book down and the appropriate page and went to the front door.

  “Hi Amy are you coming out to play?”

  “No I've got my home work to do!”

  “Ok!”
<
br />   Steffi turned and went away and I shut the door behind her.

  My dad was stood behind me saying “That wasn’t very nice Amy!”

  “I don't like her any more she's a right pain.

  I'll see her later and make it up to her then! Besides I need to read this book by tonight.”

  “Ok darling!”

  I went back into the lounge and my dad went to meet mum.

  I sat back in the lounge picking up my book waiting for the next interruption.

  Just as I started to read after finding my place Tilly comes in and jumps up on the book, which is on my lap.

  “Oh no Tilly go away. I am trying to read!” And I pushed her off my knee and she landed on all fours on the floor, shaking her head.

  But she did nothing more but jump back up again. And I pushed her off again.

  This happened three times but after the third time I was having none of it. I grabbed Tilly from the floor picked her up into my arms and placed her on the floor in the hall way closing the door quickly, before she could come back into the room.

  I returned to the settee and began to read again.

  Just then I heard the phone ringing in the hall way. It rang out for a while until I heard it stop. Whoever was ringing had rung off or someone has answered it.

  I then hear the door open and it is my dad.

  “Amy Katie is on the phone. She wants to know if you would like to sleep over on Saturday.

  But I know you are busy shall I tell her that you will call her back?”

  “No Dad I'll speak to her!”

  I got up off the sofa and went to speak to Katie.

  “Hi Katie.” I spoke to her for half an hour.

  After I had spoken to Katie and made all the arrangements for the sleep over I went into the kitchen. I hear my dad talking to my mum. I knew he knew that I was there.

  “What do think love? She did not want to speak to me earlier, Oh I'm sick of being interrupted. But as soon as Katie calls then guess who gets dumped?”

  My mum then turned to my dad.

  “Arthur its official your chopped Liver!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Amy Pleb and the Flatulent Ferret.

  It was Friday afternoon and my week of disasters was coming to an end. My dad had a visit from an old mate of his, called Albert Beaumont. I am including this in my week of disasters because according to my Mum a visit from him nearly always ends in disaster.

  It was about four O'clock and I was in the garden playing, my dad was gardening and my mum was sat at the patio table playing on her lap top.

  All of a sudden we all heard a loud noise from an over revving engine, followed by a very loud bang. My dad looked up from his hoeing and said “Oh no its Albert!”

  “Who's Albert?” I asked.

  “My mate!”

  “And we use the term very loosely!” My mum piped up.

  “Why's that mum?”

  “The last time he came here was at your Dads fortieth birthday party. He caused chaos.

  He got so drunk that he insulted practically every female in the place. He threw beer on my best friend Emma and her boyfriend Jack stepped in to talk to him man to man but instead he head butted him and broke his nose. Your dad then threw him out but not before he set fire to the carpet we bought from Egypt, I loved that Carpet. It was ruined and we had to throw it out too!”

  “Ah well love it's all in the past now hey?”

  “No Arthur it's not, you don't invite him in. You find out what he wants and then get him to go or take him to the pub or something!”

  “What if I invite him round here to the garden and you go inside?”

  “Ok but don't let him stay too long, once he gets his foot in the door he'll never leave!”

  My mum then picked up her computer and went inside.

  “What made that noise dad?”

  “It was Albert's old 4X4. It's ancient. It's been round the clock about three times!”

  “Come on we'll go and see what he wants!”

  I followed my dad round to the front of the house.

  When we got there I could see the rustiest, dirty and battered car I had ever seen in my life.

  We walked on the drive and as we did a figure got out of the driver’s side. He was as dirty and battered as the truck.

  He wore a tatty old flat cap, a scruffy old waxed jacket and by the looks of it, it was bought on the same day my Granddad was born.

  HA HA. It was tied together with bailing band. He wore some dirty brown corduroy trousers which had seen better days 20 years ago. And on his feet were two muddy old boots.

  My Dad walked up to Albert and they shook hands.

  “Hi Albert!”

  “How Do!”

  “Long time no see Albert!”

  “What brings ya here?”

  “Have brought ya summat!”

  “What?” My dad asked.

  Albert said nothing but walked round to the back of the car, opening the back door, which was tied with more bailing band. He flung open the door but it creaked very loudly on its rusty broken hinges.

  Albert picked up two rabbits with his grufted right hand and passed them to my dad.

  “Here ya are lad put them in the pot, when thas skinned em a course!”

  My dad took the creatures from Albert which were hanging from a peace of rope by their hind legs.

  Looking at Albert more closely made me realise that the last time he had a wash was about the same time as his car. His hair was long and matted and came out of his cap and down to his shoulders. His cheeks were pot marked and had a good growth of whiskers on his chin. He had a scar to the right side of his face which ran down from his right eye all the way down to the bottom of his face, and hair did not grow at all on this part of his face.

  He was a scary looking man to me. But my dad seemed to like him and for my dad to like him, he must be ok.

  “They look good Albert!” My dad was referring to the rabbits.

  “Yeah me and Esmeralda bagged em this morning up near Steal's Stones!”

  I looked at the dog which was in the back of the car.

  “Is that Esmeralda?”

  “No lass that's Queenie!”

  Queenie was a scruffy looking thing with a shaggy black coat.

  She barked when her name was mentioned.

  “Well if that's Queenie who is Esmeralda?”

  Albert said nothing again but just reached into the back of the 4x4 and picked up a black holdall. But as he lifted it out, I noticed that the bag was moving.

  “What's in the bag?” I asked.

  “By eck lass, yeah ask some questions!”

  Albert placed the bag on the drive. He opened the bag which was tied with string and out popped the head of a creature, which I had never seen before.

  And I was startled. It had a black head and its body was fawn coloured.

  But it was darker coloured on its back and lighter on its underside. Its coat looked very silky and soft.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  My dad chipped in saying “it's a ferret!”

  “Not just a ferret lad, it's Esmeralda!”

  “She's the best working ferret I have ever had!”

  “Working ferret?”

  “He means that he uses her to go down holes to flush out rabbits so he can shoot them!”

  “Ya right there Arthur!”

  “Eh she were great today I put her darn a hole and she flew darn and two minutes later them two popped art!”

  “Bang they were dead!”

  “You killed them?”

  “Aye lass a shot em!”

  “With a gun?”

  “Aye with a gun but with no ordinary gun!”

  Albert took the ferret in his left hand and with his right hand, opened a larger holdall. He pulled out a large gun.

  A shot gun I think they call it.

  “Look at that lass, that's a good bit a shot gun!”
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br />   See I was right they do call it a shot gun.

  “This is Bessie!”

  “You gave your gun a name?”

  “Yeah all mi guns have had names!”

  “Yeah want a look see Arthur?”

  Albert passed the gun to my Dad.

  He took the gun in both hands, he handled it like an expert.

  The gun was broken for safety but he quickly snapped it shut. He lifted it up and placed it firmly to his right shoulder, pointing it into the air. He put the sight to his right eye taking aim as if he was trying to shoot an imaginary bird in the sky.

  After a minute he lowered it from his shoulder and snapped it again, giving it back to Albert.

  “That's a fine peace Albert. How long have yeah had it? It's a Waverley isn’t it?”

  “Yeah it is. Have had it ever since mi mam died, it were her gun, she used to clay pigeon shoot wi it!”

  “She competed wi it like, won Trophies and a couple a Rosettes for county!”

  “Your Mum used to shoot?”

  “Yeah lass she were flaming good, better than me, but not as good as Arthur Pleb!”

  “My dad's called Arthur Pleb too!”

  “Aye lass it’s himself am referring to!”

  “Did you used to shoot dad?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Yeah he says, ya dad god bless him were a champion. He could shoot a bird’s eye out at a hundred feet!”

  “Don't be daft Al, it's a bit of an exaggeration!”

  “Am not exaggerating, ya know ya were!”

  “He shot for County like mi mam Amy!”

  I turned to him in surprise.

  “How do you know my name?”

  I asked this because I had never seen him before and he knew my name.

  “How because am the God fatha Lass I held thi in mi arms when tha were a baby!”

  “Did you?”

  “Yeah Amy ha did!”

  “This is ya Uncle Albert Amy!”

  “Is it?”

  My dad used to tell me about his friend called Albert and what they used to get up to.

  “I never knew that you used to shoot dad you never told me!”

  “I had no real need to Amy it was a long time ago I was in my twenties then!”

  “Aye young free and single hey Arthur? Arthur lock up your daughters Pleb!”

  Just then I noticed my Dad give Albert a disapproving look.

  “As I say it was a long time ago.”

  I wanted to ask my dad about his younger days but this was not the right time or place. I will ask again another time and I know he will tell me.

  Albert put Bessie back in hold hall. He was still holding Esmeralda in his left hand.

  “What Du yeah reckon to Esmeralda then Amy?”

  “She looks very soft.”

  “Du ya want to stroke her and find out for ya self?”