Lies Lies Lies - Adele Parks

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       Dedication

       13. Daisy

       14. Simon

       15. Daisy

       16. Simon

       17. Daisy

       18. Simon

       19. Daisy

       20. Simon

       21. Daisy

       22. Simon

       23. Daisy

       24. Simon

       2019

       25. Daisy

       26. Simon

       27. Daisy

       28. Simon

       29. Daisy

       30. Simon

       31. Daisy

       32. Simon

       33. Daisy

       34. Daisy

       35. Simon

       36. Daisy

       37. Simon

       38. Daisy

       39. Simon

       40. Daisy

       41. Simon

       42. Daisy

       43. Daisy

       44. Simon

       45. Daisy

       46. Simon

       47. Daisy

       48. Simon

       49. Daisy

       50. Simon

       51. Daisy

       52. Simon

       53. Simon

       54. Daisy

       55. Simon

       56. Daisy

       57. Simon

       58. Daisy

       59. Simon

       Epilogue

       Extract from Just My Luck

       Acknowledgements

       Questions for Discussion

       About the Publisher

       May 1976

      Simon was six years old when he first tasted beer.

      He was bathed and ready for bed wearing soft pyjamas, even though it was light outside; still early. Other kids were in the street, playing on their bikes, kicking a football. He could hear them through the open window, although he couldn’t see them because the blinds were closed. His daddy didn’t like the evening light glaring on the TV screen, his mummy didn’t like the neighbours looking in; keeping the room dark was something they agreed on.

      His mummy didn’t like a lot of things: wasted food, messy bedrooms, Daddy driving too fast, his sister throwing a tantrum in public. Mummy liked ‘having standards’. He didn’t know what that meant, exactly. There was a standard-bearer at Cubs; he was a big boy and got to wave the flag at the front of the parade, but his mummy didn’t have a flag, so it was unclear. What was clear was that she didn’t like him to be in the street after six o’clock. She thought it was common. He wasn’t sure what common was either, something to do with having fun. She bathed him straight after tea and made him put on pyjamas, so that he couldn’t sneak outside.

      He didn’t know what his daddy didn’t like, just what he did like. His daddy was always thirsty and liked a drink. When he was thirsty he was grumpy and when he had a drink, he laughed a lot. His daddy was an accountant and liked to count in lots of different ways: ‘a swift one’, ‘a cold one’, and ‘one more for the road’. Sometimes Simon thought his daddy was lying when he said he was an accountant; most likely, he was a pirate or a wizard. He said to people, ‘Pick your poison’, which sounded like something pirates might say, and he liked to drink, ‘the hair of a dog’ in the morning at the weekends, which was definitely a spell. Simon asked his mummy about it once and she told him to stop being silly and never to say those silly things outside the house.

      He had been playing with his Etch A Sketch, which was only two months old and was a birthday present. Having seen it advertised on TV, Simon had begged for it, but it was disappointing. Just two silly knobs making lines that went up and down, side to side. Limited. Boring. He was bored. The furniture in the room was organised so all of it was pointing at the TV which was blaring but not interesting. The news. His parents liked watching

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