Unchained Melanie Read Online Free PDF

as prolific with her Tina books as these teenage girls were with their text messages she’d be on her twentieth novel by now, no problem. Mel headed for the M3 and wondered what Rosa was saying, reluctant goodbyes or a sort of ‘Yesss! I’m outa here!’ Rosa had not since her mid-teens, been what a social worker would call a ‘high divulger’. Whatever went on in her shaggy, foxy head was only rarely broadcast beyond the edges of the digital telephone networks.
    The room in the hall of residence was smaller than Mel had expected, but cleverly put together like a half-size hotel one with a dolly-sized bathroom built into one corner. The block was so newly built you could still smell freshly dried paint. There was a sign at the end of the corridor just beyond Rosa’s room, saying ‘New Plaster – Do not kick the walls’. Someone had been a bit naive putting up a sign like that, she thought; competitive wall-kicking would almost certainly turn into a regular post-pub activity. In the room the pale wood-veneered wardrobe, desk, drawers and bed were all as a continuous fitted, immovable unit. The thought of mental patients or unstable prisoners flitted across her mind, folks who needed their furniture nailed down to prevent murder and maiming.
    ‘Good grief, the luxury of it. Your own bathroom!’ As Rosa hadn’t yet made a comment, Mel filled the silence with over enthusiasm.
    ‘Well, shower room, you couldn’t swing a kitten.’ Rosa looked out of the window. There was a glimpse of something silvery sparkling far away between the city buildings.
    ‘And a sea view!’
    Rosa scowled. Her mother was overexcited, fast heading towards being a liability. If anyone came out of any of the other rooms Rosa thought she just might have to lock Mel in the bathroom and pretend she was a mad intruder or a (very) mature student wandering around the wrong building. There was a smell of interesting smoke from along the corridor and she wondered why the alarm hadn’t gone off – the rules in the booklet she’d been sent were very strict about smoking in the rooms. It seemed to be practically a chucking-out offence. She could hear music too: David Gray, which was a promising sign – she didn’t want to be sharing with five swots whose idea of entertainment was something soothing on Radio 3.
    ‘Shall I help you with the bed?’ Melanie was delving into one of the boxes and pulling out pillows and the new packs of duvet covers and pillowcases. ‘The plain blue or the stripey ones?’ Rosa just felt exhausted. They’d hauled box after box up the two flights of stairs from the car. All she wanted to do was lie down on the unmade bed, among all the unpacked debris, and go to sleep for a couple of hours. Ideally, when she woke up it would all be done completely by magic. All her food and crockery would be stashed away in the cupboards in the big shared kitchen just across the hallway, all her clothes hung up, all her books lined up on the shelf over the desk and photos of her friends would be grinning down at her from the silly dinky pinboard that hung over the bed.
    ‘Are you Blu-tacking stuff up?’ A tall girl with streaky blonde hair appeared in the doorway, clutching a rolled-up poster. ‘I’m Kate? Next room to you?’ She had what Melanie called
Neighbours
intonation, every statement a question. Rosa looked shy suddenly, but smiled at the girl.
    ‘I’m Rosa. I’ve only brought photos. Friends and that, I thought I’d see what the room was like first.’
    ‘I think you’re not supposed to . . .’ Mel interrupted.
    ‘Mum!’ Rosa warned, picking up a carrier bag and clanking off with it to the kitchen opposite. Kate followed her and Melanie could hear the two of them laughing, could hear glasses being unpacked and put on a shelf and the fridge door opening. Rosa reappeared a few minutes later clutching a bottle of beer.
    ‘I did the bed for you,’ Mel said, ‘but if it’s OK with you . . .’
    ‘It’s OK Ma,