I’M A CUSTARDY coward at the core, and I hate motorcycles, and can’t even bare the thought of skinning my knees on a bicycle, but after reading the madcap, wind,
whipping your hair hijinks of Suzie Tullett’s Going Underground, Chap has drained my PayPal account because I’ve been muttering in my sleep about vintage Vespas . . .
Now, meet that Fab Brit Lit Babe, Suzie Tullett!~
LAST WEEK, THE lovely Emily McKay talked about having to balance deadlines with keeping her children entertained during the holidays. Alas, I don’t have that problem anymore on account of both my sons having now left home. Although that’s not to say having grown up children isn’t without its problems and concerns… children turning into young adults just brings on a whole set of other things to worry about.
Like when they pass their driving test. Now there are images of almighty crashes on the motorway to contend with and as mothers, despite knowing our own children are going to drive to the highest safety standards possible, there are all those other maniacs on the road to consider. And consider them we do!
My youngest was the first to leave home – at 16 can you believe? Far too tender an age in my book, although regardless of my motherly fears once he’d decide
d to join the Forces there was no stopping him; then again it didn’t help him having his dad on his side.
I cried for three weeks solid when he went – anything would set me off. From the Andrex puppies on the TV ads to seeing a woman pushing a pram, the tears would flow; anyone would think I was having a nervous breakdown or something. Then, watching his younger brother make his own way in the world, the oldest decided it was time he moved out too. And foregoing the semi-independence on offer by way of a
caravan in the garage, within 6 months it seemed I had a completely empty nest. Oh yes, the tears began their outpour once more and to say it was messy is an understatement!
Five years on, you’d think I’d be used to it. You’d think the concerns about them not looking after themselves properly, getting in with the wrong crowd or them suddenly developing a taste for drugs would’ve waned, but they haven’t. I mean without me there to guide them on a full time basis, how can they? And to make matters worse, the youngest only goes off to Afghanistan, leaving me panicking about bombs and goodness know what else! Whilst on the opposite end of the worry spectrum, the oldest takes himself off to Macau – the Las Vegas of the Eastern World, where’s there’s gambling galore and ladies of the night!
All I can say is, thank goodness for Facebook… And what my children call stalking, I call keeping abreast.
I’m a full time comedy/contemporary/chicklit writer, lucky enough to live between the UK and Greece. And when I’m not tapping away on the computer creating my own literary masterpiece, I usually have my head in someone else’s.
Three men on two scooters, travelling down the country to Brighton… Three women and a heavily pregnant belly in hot pursuit – all squashed into a classic, Union Jack roofed mini… with an off duty Police Officer bringing up the rear… and with musically themed chapters, it even has its own soundtrack!
Promise Me A Rainbow [Kindle Edition]
Cheryl Reavis (Author)