Carol’s Christmas News
I would have texted this, but the doctor said I’ve got to rest my thumbs, ‘cos my wrists are so painful I can barely open my giro without taking a valium first. Still, it means I can claim disability for a while, and the nice bloke down at the DSS helped me fill in all the right forms so I could get everything I’m entitled to. We’ve become good friends over the years, and he always sees me right when the old man’s away – and he’s been away for nearly five years, so it’ll be lovely to have him home again in February.
So, here we are with another year gone and a new one on the way. And what a year it’s been. As you all know, we had to move from the old flat because we were being victimised by the neighbours. This new estate is much nicer, with a big car-park so the kids can race their cars and meet up for a drink and a bit of mischief in the evenings, and a play-ground for the little kiddies where the Rotties can go and do their business in the sand-pit. So much easier than me having to drag them out a couple of times a day.
The older kids had a lovely bonfire on the fifth of November, with fireworks and everything. It was just unfortunate that they set fire to the community centre, but the fire brigade came and put it out eventually, so no real harm done.
The new flat is a bit small, but ever so nice, and the social has kitted it out lovely with a leather suite, new curtains and carpets and a fridge and washing machine so I don’t have to go all the way downstairs to the laundry. If any of you come up to Brixton, then pop in for a fag and a coffee. We’re on the fifteenth floor, and the lift’s always out of order, but the exercise is keeping me fit, and I managed to get into that leather mini-skirt again. You know the one – pink, with the slit up the front – my Harry will be ever so pleased when he gets out, he always liked that skirt.
I’m ever so proud of our Wayne. Not only did he organise that firework party, but he’s finally got an ASBO. He was feeling really left out, ‘cos all his mates have got one, and now he’s strutting about like a turkey cock, and there’s talk of him being the leader of his little gang. Bless him. He does remind me of his dad.
The twins, Charlene and Kylie, left school in the summer, and they’ve both got really good jobs in Soho. They’ve grown into lovely girls and their boss, Mr Smith – who owns several establishments in the area – is very pleased with them. I always knew those gymnastic lessons would lead to something, and it’s amazing what they can do with those poles. But I do worry that they’ll catch a chill in those skimpy costumes, you know what girls are like – won’t be told. Just like me at that age!
Dean is coming along with his art, and we’re all really proud of him. He did a fantastic murial on the estate walls and the railway underpass, but I had to spend three hours down at the cop-shop the other week trying to persuade them that his artistic talents should be encouraged – but they wouldn’t listen. He’s due in court in the new year, and his probation officer isn’t being at all helpful.
Apart from having Harry home soon, my other best news is that Shaz is having another baby. We can’t wait to see if it’s a little brown one, but we hope so, ‘cos that’s what she’s always wanted after having the other three. Leroy seemed such a nice bloke after the awful plonkers she’s been with before, so it was a shame he turned out to be married – but Shaz doesn’t seem to mind, and she’s got lots of other men friends calling round to the flat, so I reckon she’ll cope. Some of them are ever so generous. Her flat’s like a little palace and she’s got a wardrobe full of clothes. Her headmaster said she wouldn’t amount to much, but I reckon she’s done all right for herself, seeing that she’s only sixteen.
We’re having a real family Christmas this year – just a pity Harry won’t be here – but then he’s missed so many one more won’t hurt. The twins’ dad is coming up from Portsmouth, Wayne’s dad is bringing the booze he got cheap from some warehouse, and Shaz will bring the kids. Dean and me will visit Harry – they do a lovely spread on Christmas Day, but we won’t stay too long because Wayne and his dad get up to all sorts of mischief if left for too long, and I don’t fancy coming home to a burnt-out flat, not now I’ve got it so nice.
I hope you’ve enjoyed my news, and that you all have a lovely Christmas and a happy new year. I’ll text you when my wrists are better.