How cheap are chips anyway? Oh, well, not relevant really.
I’m here to tell you that Amazon is selling one of my comedies at a ridiculous price.
How ridiculous? I hear you shout. 77p, that’s how ridiculous. So, if you want a good laugh at only 77p, then go for it.
It’s a limited offer.
I know I’d go for it, except I know how it ends.
In these times, when a good laugh is what we need then this is perfect. If you’re still not sure then have a little read of the preview below. You can buy your copy here Enjoy. Much love, Lynda xx
HARRIET’S BIG WEDDING BLUNDER
I make my way outside and wait for Fi and Alistair while searching for Julian. Brice passes me and smiles. He could stop hearts with that smile. I spot Fiona and Alistair.
‘On time as always,’ Alistair quips sarcastically. ‘There is something c-c-comforting about your consistent lateness.’ He says sarcastically.
‘Hello Alistair, you look nice, like the Y-fronts.’
Fiona follows my eyes to Alistair’s zip.
‘God, Alistair, your flies are undone. Do something before that Jeremy guy sees you.’
‘What Jeremy guy?’ Alistair asks while fumbling with the zip.
‘Over there. He’s a Lord or Sir or something. Anyway, zip your flies up for goodness sake.’
I peer at the man.
‘I don’t think he is,’ I say.
‘Are you sure? He looks familiar,’ she says. ‘I’m certain he’s someone.’
‘That’s because he’s the parking attendant at Homebase,’ sighs Alistair.
I narrow my eyes.
‘He’s right you know,’ I say.
‘Are you sure? What’s he doing here?’
‘P-p-parking cars,’ huffs Alistair. ‘I wish you would wear your contact lenses. Honestly, you’ll be curtsying to parking attendants next.’
‘I do wear them. I’m just so tired and they make my eyes sore. I was sure my glasses were in my bag. I feel like I’m jet-lagged. You know that ‘when you’re not here’ feeling?’
‘I’m rather wishing I wasn’t. I feel like a sodding wallflower,’ I say looking around for Julian.
‘A scarlet w-w-wallflower,’ sneers Alistair. ‘It’s a w-w-wedding you know, not a b-b-bloody period drama.’
What a cheek. Some people just don’t appreciate individualism, do they?
‘Damn things,’ he mumbles yanking the zip up.
‘You look lovely,’ Fiona assures me. ‘I love the snap pearl buttons on that dress.’
‘You don’t think it’s a bit, you know, Little House on the Prairie?’ I say feeling self-conscious.
‘A bit?’ sneers Alistair. ‘That’s an understatement.’
‘Ignore him, he wouldn’t know style if it bit him on the arse,’ Fiona says, glaring at Alistair.
‘Have you seen Julian?’ I ask. ‘He should have been here ages ago. I’m sure he left well before I did. You know how he likes to be on time.’
‘Most people like to be on time,’ says Alistair.
‘I can’t see anybody without my contacts,’ moans Fiona, ‘let alone Julian. He’s probably got held up at the restaurant.’
I shake my head, sending a pearl drop earring flying.
‘I’ve tried the restaurant and his mobile, and he isn’t answering either. I’ve only brought a cheap card with me. He’s supposed to be bringing the present.’
‘I imagine he’s still bombing it down the A40 in your Mini,’ says Alistair casually.
I stare at him.
‘What?’
‘That’s just the thing. Alistair swears he saw Julian bombing it down the A40 in your Mini. I said that’s not possible. It’s completely the wrong way, and your Mini won’t do more than forty,’ says Fiona.
‘Not with an empty tank it won’t. That’s why I got a taxi here. I forgot about petrol. I don’t mean I forgot that the car takes petrol of course. I’m not that dippy.’
‘That’s a relief,’ quips Alistair.
I shoot him a dirty look.
‘I just forgot I was on the red, and I’m flat broke. Bombing it down the A40, are you sure he was in the Pooch? The thing will blow up.’
‘I don’t think it is p-p-possible to mistake your Mini. It has that distinctive whining sound that tells you it’s Harriet’s Mini.’
Why on earth would Julian be ragging the Pooch down the A40 when he’s got his new van? I hope the wheels weren’t nicked from the van. That’s all we need. The past nine months have been shit. Every penny going into Julian’s dream of setting up a French restaurant which, so far, has not done very well at all. If it wasn’t for our friends eating there, we wouldn’t have broken even. I’ve seriously started considering selling a kidney. Julian’s obviously, not mine. I’m not that crazy. After all, we could survive on three between the two of us. In fact, maybe I could sell off bits of Julian’s body until he has the restaurant up and running and I have all my studies paid for. Although, strictly speaking, not all our money has gone into the venture.
I have been secretly squirrelling away some of my earnings. I decided from the start that one of us needed to put a little by, and I’m so glad I did. I need to pay for the next part of my tuition fees as I am not planning to work in a laundrette all my life. I can’t help worrying though, what earthly reason would Julian have for racing down the A40 in my Mini? Come to think of it, why is he racing down the A40 at all when the church is in the opposite direction? Still, Julian always did have a terrible sense of direction. All the same, it’s a bit odd. Julian would never be late unless there was a good reason.
‘It’s not like Julian to be late,’ I say, voicing my concern.
‘There’s a f-f-first time for everything,’ says Alistair.
‘It’s dead posh this wedding, isn’t it?’ says Fiona, breaking into my thoughts. ‘There are Lords and MPs and everything. It’s a real high-class do, isn’t it? They’re all big knobs.’
‘Is that a fact? Perhaps you should keep an eye on that zip, Alistair. You don’t want people making comparisons,’ I laugh.
Fiona snorts and quickly turns away. Alistair scowls and storms off.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘He’s tired. He’s putting a lot of hours in at the office. We both are. Honestly, what with the rent and food ….’
‘What’s food?’ I quip.
‘Oh, come on, Harriet, things aren’t that bad, surely.’
I sigh.
‘No, that’s true. There are my mum’s scraps after all.’
‘C-c-come on,’ calls Alistair.
‘He’s not stammering much today. That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘He’s taken a Valium,’ she says with a sigh and grabs my arm. ‘Come on, lead me to the reception. I can’t see a sodding thing without my contacts, and you know how I hate wearing glasses.’
LYNDA RENHAM 
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