This is a true story, apart from some embellishment and long-term memory loss.
It is based on the 1960's a time which will be ancient history to many Wattpad's readers, but to me and my peers it was an amazing time to be growing up.
Although I'm not...
Barely got the cat in the box, mind you, it was a week before we could coax her in from the course. To be honest, I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, but then I never did understand grownups, I still don't, and I'm supposed to be one. Why were they so worried, why didn't they just let her live wild, it wasn't like she was going to starve to death, there were plenty of rats and mice, in the fields and woods?
All I can say it was a good job my Dad wore the thick leather gloves he'd nicked from the factory, but he still had scratches all up his arms. However, after a good ten minutes of screeching and tearing at the sides of the box, she finally takes a rest, but it's not over yet.
Really can't believe it, we got taken home in a Rolls Royce, Silver Cloud, owned by the Club Captain. This is my moment of fame, as a child, we never had a car, let alone the poshest thing on four wheels. My Mum must have thought she was Lady Penelope from Thunderbirds, I was most definitely Scott Tracey, sat beside the Chauffer, the captain had his own Nosey Parker.
Everyone in the street was out on their gates, wondering what a Rolls Royce was doing at the Lanes, had they won the lottery or something. I can hear them, horrible women, now.
"Good God, look at that stuck up cow Gracie Lane, who does she think she is, Lady Muck?"
It doesn't take a lot for a bit of envy, to turn into spiteful jealousy, my mother never had much, and they'd rob her of that, the bloody witches.
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