Aaron Connor Read Online Free PDF Page B

place full of opportunity, love and adventure.
I wish I could go back and tell little old me not to get too
excited, as my expectation out lived the reality.
    We passed on by, went over the
road and came to some traffic lights at the main road. This was the
long route to get home, as it should only take a few minutes
normally. I and Lizzie have discovered that its best to avoid the
routes that Simon and his gang takes, just for our own safety,
which meant that we had to take this longer route. At least it kept
us fit. It’s much better then going down the quick route, to have
the boys beat me up and grope at Lizzie’s bum. Hasn’t civilisation
progressed so much over the years? Mmmm . . . sarcasm is hard to
put down in words, oh well, I’m sure you get the message.
    The symbol of the walking man
lit up bright green. The cars stopped and we crossed the road. When
we come to the other side we turned to the left and carried on
walking. We went past houses, gardens, corner shops and crossings
until eventually we made it to our two houses.
    They weren’t anything
particularly special. The two houses were conjoined into one large,
white square. The windows were few and perfectly square . . . and
that’s about it really. Lizzie lived on the left side and I lived
on the right. We went our separate ways as Lizzie walked up to her
front door and went inside. I walked up to my front door, but I
didn’t go inside straight away. I had a lot on my mind.
    My exam results were in a brown
envelope in my bag. I was trying to decide whether to show my
Mother the paper or not. She was an over protective woman, the kind
that’s so over baring that she’s just plain mean. I know she meant
well, but she could become nasty and went ballistic easily.
“Ape-shit” I believe is the right term to describe it.
    After a few moments of thought,
I decided to keep the envelope to myself. There’s no point starting
an argument when I wasn’t in the mood to have one. Sometimes in
life, its best to keep some things secret if it’s for the best.
That’s the only instance in which I could encourage lying, as
sometimes the truth can cause more trouble then its worth.
    I entered the house and closed
the door behind me. Inside everything was a basic white. The
council who owned the house limited you on what you could and
couldn’t do, so we just went for the basic whitewash and tiled
vinyl floor. The house was always clean as Mum was always home and
liked to fill the time between clients.
    My Mum was a home hairdresser.
Her clients would come to the house at their pre organised
appointments and have their hair cut in the living room. The
clients were mainly older women who liked having their hair cut by
my Mum. They could chat and gossip about celebrities while watching
Loose Women on the television. There was always a trash mag handy
that the women would read during their appointment. So most of the
conversations were sparked off by something they’d read about some
talentless pleb’s love affair, or something daft like that.
    When I came in I could hear my
Mum in the living room, clicking away with those scissors. I peered
into the living room to see who it was today. There were rarely any
new clients, so over the years I had come to know them all quite
well. Today was Barbara.
    Barbara was a lovely lady no
older then thirty-five. She had bleach blonde hair, long pink
finger nails, a huge pair of fake breasts and she was always
covered unevenly in fake tan. She was originally from Essex before
moving down here with her husband Richard (who was from St.Ians)
and has been a client to my Mum ever since.
    She was a beautician at the
local parlour in town. It was a massive black building, opposite
the pound shop, that had windows covered in posters of glamorous
models. You know the kind, the ones where you stare at them and
think: “She must be hungry”. Barbra worked in there and did nails,
hair, tanning, piercings and such like. She had the ability