Having heard the bell, I opened the door and I couldn't believe my eyes!
"You will pur-chase these yell-o dust-ers, for the bar-gain price of two pounds ..... or you will be ex ......."
I slammed the door shut and just to be sure ran up the stairs.
"Whatever's the matter dear? I wish you wouldn't slam the door like that. Not got your trouble again? Make sure you spray the freshener when you've finished."
"I ... I .... I..... !" I spluttered.
"Yes dear? Do you want me to fetch a hot water bottle? See how you get on," as she carried on with the hovering.
Not wishing or the presence of mind, to argue, I opened the toilet door, closed it behind me and sat down, waiting for the worst.
Meanwhile, I could hear my mother banging into the skirting board, as she sang to herself, in that screeching voice that could just be heard above the hum of the vacuum cleaner.
I had been expecting an explosion at least. I knew the door wouldn't be much of a barrier.
There was no mistaking what I had just seen. There it had been. At the front door. It's sink plunger arm with that plastic bag package of yellow dusters, almost in my face and its gun stick waving at me menacingly, while it looked me straight in the eye-stalk, I mean eye!!
No! it must be a dream, a .. a .. they'd told us about it, only the other day ....... a ..... A mirage! That was it! No! Since when had Brixton been a desert? A trick of the light? No! it had spoken ...... menacingly ........ surely?
It was someone playing a game! Yes that was it. They all knew I was a fan. One of them had got there hands on one and was having a joke. Yes, that's it! Stupid boy! So what am I doing sitting here?
I pulled back the bolt and opened the door a fraction. Mother had disappeared into one of the bedrooms. What to do? I shut the door and sat down again.
In all my seven years, I had never been so frightened. Well not since all the lights went out, while I was going up the stairs last week and I had then looked up at the skylight, where I'm sure there was this shadow of a face looking down at me and I had screamed and screamed, until Dad had rushed out striking match after match as he came, as they had blew out in his haste.
I was sure there had been someone up in the roof, but in the end it was just one of a pile of stored magazines that had fallen over the glass skylight. Oh we had laughed when the lights had come back on. But something at the back of my mind wasn't convinced.
That hoover hadn't looked too friendly either!
"You will pur-chase these yell-o dust-ers, for the bar-gain price of two pounds ..... or you will be ex ......."
I slammed the door shut and just to be sure ran up the stairs.
"Whatever's the matter dear? I wish you wouldn't slam the door like that. Not got your trouble again? Make sure you spray the freshener when you've finished."
"I ... I .... I..... !" I spluttered.
"Yes dear? Do you want me to fetch a hot water bottle? See how you get on," as she carried on with the hovering.
Not wishing or the presence of mind, to argue, I opened the toilet door, closed it behind me and sat down, waiting for the worst.
Meanwhile, I could hear my mother banging into the skirting board, as she sang to herself, in that screeching voice that could just be heard above the hum of the vacuum cleaner.
I had been expecting an explosion at least. I knew the door wouldn't be much of a barrier.
There was no mistaking what I had just seen. There it had been. At the front door. It's sink plunger arm with that plastic bag package of yellow dusters, almost in my face and its gun stick waving at me menacingly, while it looked me straight in the eye-stalk, I mean eye!!
No! it must be a dream, a .. a .. they'd told us about it, only the other day ....... a ..... A mirage! That was it! No! Since when had Brixton been a desert? A trick of the light? No! it had spoken ...... menacingly ........ surely?
It was someone playing a game! Yes that was it. They all knew I was a fan. One of them had got there hands on one and was having a joke. Yes, that's it! Stupid boy! So what am I doing sitting here?
I pulled back the bolt and opened the door a fraction. Mother had disappeared into one of the bedrooms. What to do? I shut the door and sat down again.
In all my seven years, I had never been so frightened. Well not since all the lights went out, while I was going up the stairs last week and I had then looked up at the skylight, where I'm sure there was this shadow of a face looking down at me and I had screamed and screamed, until Dad had rushed out striking match after match as he came, as they had blew out in his haste.
I was sure there had been someone up in the roof, but in the end it was just one of a pile of stored magazines that had fallen over the glass skylight. Oh we had laughed when the lights had come back on. But something at the back of my mind wasn't convinced.
That hoover hadn't looked too friendly either!