A Bump on the Head by Caroline Tailby (romantic love story reading .TXT) 📖

attacked…” I summarised the whole adventure into a few sentences while Sophie and Eleanor looked at each other and shook their heads.
“It must have been a dream,” said Eleanor. “We’ve just been doing a production of Bugsy Malone. You were a chorus girl, remember?”
“Oh…yeah,” I said. “But it seemed so real…”
“Well it’s over now,” said Sophie. “Bugsy and Blousey and that don’t really exist. You dreamt it all.”
Our talking was interrupted by someone bursting through the auditorium door. A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair tied back, looking very pale. It was my mum.
“Where’s Liana?!” she cried. She sounded so frightened.
“MUM!” I shouted, suddenly forgetting all about the pain in my head. I leapt up, ran right off the stage and straight into her arms in tears. “Oh, Mum!”
She hugged me tight as soon as we made contact. “Oh, Liana! Sweetheart!” she cried, then her tone changed to soothing. “It’s OK, darling, it’s OK. Mummy’s here.”
I kept crying. Not because I was in shock from the bump, which is what she thought, but because I’d realised now that I’d missed her so much. Bugsy and Blousey and everyone else were brilliant company, but nobody could beat the security I had when I was around my mum. I realised now that I’d never even appreciated it.
She broke the hug up and took my hand. “Come on, lovie. There’s an ambulance waiting outside. They’ll check you over at the hospital.”
She sat with her arm around me the whole journey in the ambulance. I felt like a little kid again – I didn’t want her to leave me, ever. Her embrace was so warm, and the sweet aroma of her lavender perfume filled my nose. She was the only person I wanted to be with right now.
“I’ve missed you, Mum,” I said halfway through the journey. She chuckled.
“Don’t be silly, honey. You’ve only been away from me a few hours.”
“Feels like a lot longer than that.” I mumbled, and cuddled closer to her.
At the hospital they checked my head over and gave me an x-ray. “Nothing serious,” said the nurse after the checks. He patted me on the shoulder. “Just a bad bruise on the back of your head, love. You should be fine in a few weeks.”
“That’s good,” I said. Mum put her arms around me again.
“Now, sweetie, I think it’s time you got some sleep. You’ve had a very traumatic night, haven’t you?”
“More traumatic that you think,” I said. I’d stopped crying by now.
“Yeah. I’m sure it has been. Now let’s go home. I think Twilight’s missed you, hasn’t she?”


Entry 13

The third dream

Back at home, I snuggled into my warm, crisp sheets, Twilight tucked under my arm. I was in my cotton nightshirt and my hair was brushed, and the heating was on, filling the room with warm air that eased my tense muscles. My head had stopped hurting and because of that I was able to rest my head on my soft pillow. It’s a special one for side-sleepers. I’m a side-sleeper, so I lay on my side and allowed myself to drift off into sleep.
I had another dream. I was invisible again (but for some odd reason I could see myself), and I couldn’t speak, but this time it wasn’t in Dandy Dan’s lounge. It was in the Grand Slam. It was empty – all the customers were gone, apart from two. No, they weren’t customers. They were Bugsy and Fat Sam, sitting at the table I’d fallen by laughing at a shared joke. There was someone else as well, sweeping the floor. It was little Fizzy, Fat Sam’s janitor. He’d been trying to get an audition for a job in the show for months but Sam never had any time to see him. Blousey and Tallulah were emerging from backstage. They’d taken off their costumes and were also laughing. Sam and Bugsy cheered as they approached the table.
“Good work, girls!” said Bugsy. “You have GOT to do the show like that more often! I loved it!”
“Me too!” said Sam. The girls laughed again.
“Thanks, guys,” said Blousey. “Isn’t it great knowing that Dandy Dan won’t interfere with anythin’ now?”
“Yeah,” said Bugsy. “If Liana hadn’t showed up we might not have finally stopped him.”
“Hey,” said Tallulah, her laughing tone gone. “Come to think of it…where is Liana?”
Everyone, including me, looked at the empty chair at the table where the guys were sitting in surprise.
“What the…?” Bugsy was lost for words.
“Where the hell did she go?!” Sam cried.
Blousey called my name and looked around. So did everyone else. My eyes brimmed with tears. I wanted to call them, to run up to them, to say “It’s alright, guys! I’m here! I’m fine!” I did do that, but no sound came out of my mouth, and when I touched Bugsy’s suit jacket, my fingers flipped right through the material, feeling nothing.
Fizzy suddenly seemed to spot something on my chair as he was walking past with his broom. He picked something up off the chair…my mobile. How did I leave it there?!
“Hey, what’s this?” he said, puzzled.
“Oh my gosh! That’s her mobile phone!” exclaimed Bugsy. He snatched it out of Fizzy’s hand and stared at it. “She used this to call me!” He looked around, his eyes lighting up. “And if the phone’s here…”
Blousey blew out the flame of hope. “She won’t be here, Bugsy,” she said sadly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Liana didn’t seem like the type to wander off on her own.”
“Then…” Bugsy hesitated. “…she really has disappeared.” He slumped back on his chair. “I can’t believe it. She’s disappeared.” My eyes leaked fresh tears. The drops of saltwater hit the floor, but they didn’t make a noise or a wet mark. He looked up and faced the others, looking at me for a split second. I could see the pain in his expression. “You know what, guys?”
“What?” they chorused.
“I’m starting to doubt whether she was actually confused or not.” He noticed their puzzled faces. “It’s just we all drummed it into her that she was, but she was so insistent she wasn’t, I’m wondering if she was right.” I noticed his eyes filling with tears.
“Don’t be stupid, Bugsy,” said Tallulah, putting her arm around his shoulder. “A broad with incredibly long hair, wearing trousers? There’s no doubt she was confused. But anyway,” she continued. “we should keep that telephone as a memory. She was a sweet girl.”
“Oh my god. Thank you, Tallulah,” I mouthed.
“I wonder if we’ll see her again.” Blousey said wistfully.
“I doubt it,” Fat Sam dimmed her light of hope now. “She gave me the feeling that she was just a one-off. Besides,” He sighed. “we’ll all be at least a hundred before 2010.”
Then the dream ended.

I woke up to the sound of birds singing outside my window and leapt out of bed, dumping Twilight on the pillow. I ran over to my chair, where I’d left me jeans the night before, and dug in the pockets. I pulled out my biro, and felt something square, but it was too big to be my phone. I pulled it out of the pocket…
It was a beige notebook decorated with purple swirls. The very same one I’d bought the day before.
I opened the cover, expecting it to be a blank white page, but there was a message written. It was in very neat sloping handwriting that I recognised instantly.
Liana,
I hope you treasure this always.
You really have put a light on my
world.
Bugsy
He must have written that when he was expecting me to come back from Blousey’s. I closed my eyes to stop the tears falling out.
And that very notebook is the one I’ve been writing my whole adventure down in, right now. The message is even still there.


Entry 14

The letter

I came home from school the next day and dumped my bag in the hall. My hair had been tied back, but it was coming out. I’d been running around a lot at playtime with Sophie and Eleanor and Louise. I’d also torn the seam of my grey skirt. Whoops.
My dad was watching TV in the living room. I walked through the door and he turned to look at me.
“Hiya, Li,” he said. “Good day at school?” I nodded, and then he noticed my skirt. “What’s your mother going to say when she sees that?” he said, grinning.
“I don’t know,” I said, grinning back. “Maybe, ‘oh, Liana Isobel Perry, you silly girl’?”
We both laughed. Then Dad picked something up from his lap. “This came in the post just now,” he said. “It has your name on it. And it’s pretty heavy!”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, taking what I’d noticed was an envelope from him. He was right, it was heavy for a letter. But sure enough, my name was printed on the front.
Liana Perry,
35 South Bank Lane,
Chelsea,
London,
ENGLAND.
It was sent internationally then.
I opened up the envelope to find a sheet of paper, yellowed a little. It was in a handwriting that I didn’t recognise. There was a date at the top of the page: 1992. Seven years before I was born. As I read the letter my heart started thumping.

Dearest Liana,
To you it might seem like only a couple of days since we last spoke. To me, it seems like more that sixty years.
I’m writing to tell you that you were right all along. You weren’t confused at all. In 1985 mobile phones were invented. They were rather large when they first came out! I have realised that your mobile phone must have been a more advanced version of the first one.
After that night at the Grand Slam you vanished. We were all a bit sad, but we knew we wouldn’t forget you. You really put some joy in our hearts.
I can happily tell you that I am now the proud Mrs. Blousey Malone. Bugsy and I were married soon after you left. Though I am sorry to say that he is already deceased – he unfortunately died of a heart attack at the age of sixty-one.
Tallulah has also passed away; she died a happy natural death when she was eighty.
Sam has moved on – last time I saw him he was about to board a plane to India – and I haven’t heard from him since. I don’t know whether he is alive or dead – he never mastered the knack of using a modern telephone.
Honestly, I don’t know what became of Dandy Dan! He left us alone after you came. I guess he accepted defeat. Of course we did hear about him – the gang were involved in a lot of incidents we saw in the paper – but he never bothered us again.
As I write this, you may not have been born yet. I may be dead by the time you read it, so I am going to give this letter to my grandson, telling him not to post it until 2010. I do so hope this letter gets to you. Greetings from Michigan, where I now live. Oh, by the way…Fizzy found the object posted with this letter on your chair after you disappeared. You know Fizzy? You would, I suppose.
With love from
Your loving friend,
Blousey

P.S. I really hope this letter