Day 8 Nosy Parkers
Title: Small Streets Have Big Ears
Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: Gen
Summary: Living in a small Northern town, where everyone knows your business, is hard when you're a teenager
“Good Morning, Petunia.”
“Morning Mrs Dougherty.” Petunia replied, placing her curly wurly on the counter, on top of the leftover newspapers that covered it.
“Surprised to see you out today. Thought you’d have been grounded a good one.”
Petunia felt her ears burning.
“What time did you turn up last night anyway?”
None of your business you nosy cow! Petunia screamed on the inside, fighting to keep her hatred for the fat shopkeeper off her face. Mrs Dougherty, who was quite used to children not responding to her comments, carried on anyway.
“You had your poor Mum worried sick, you know. Mrs Davies next door said she’d been standing there on the doorstep looking for you for ages. Off with some boy, I suspect. Ah you young ‘uns. You don’t know you’re born. If I’d’ve behaved like you lot my old Mam would’ve rattled me from here to kingdom come, and that’s before me Dad’d have his turn. Wouldn’t be letting me go out for sweets for a month of Sundays. That’s 3 new pence love.” She added, taking the money Petunia had already set on the counter.
Petunia snatched up the bar. “Thanks Mrs Dougherty. Bye.”
“Ta-ra.”
Outside, Petunia hurried along the street conscious of the eyes of the neighbours all around her. Urgh. She was only twenty minutes late- and besides she was nearly sixteen and practically an adult. Dad had totally over-reacted, and now these nosy neighbours were going to cause more trouble if Dad popped in for some fags on the way home from work. She was meant to be in the house all day cleaning like a slave, but then Mum had gone out in her stupid yellow uniform for the primary school kids and Petunia had reckoned it wouldn’t take long to just grab something to keep her spirits up.
You wait, she vowed, thundering along the narrow street to get home before anyone else saw her, glaring at the blind net curtains of each of the small windows of the row of terraces, as if spies hid behind every one. One day I’ll get out of this place and go and live somewhere that people mind their own business instead of everybody else’s!
(A touch of irony there)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: Gen
Summary: Living in a small Northern town, where everyone knows your business, is hard when you're a teenager
“Good Morning, Petunia.”
“Morning Mrs Dougherty.” Petunia replied, placing her curly wurly on the counter, on top of the leftover newspapers that covered it.
“Surprised to see you out today. Thought you’d have been grounded a good one.”
Petunia felt her ears burning.
“What time did you turn up last night anyway?”
None of your business you nosy cow! Petunia screamed on the inside, fighting to keep her hatred for the fat shopkeeper off her face. Mrs Dougherty, who was quite used to children not responding to her comments, carried on anyway.
“You had your poor Mum worried sick, you know. Mrs Davies next door said she’d been standing there on the doorstep looking for you for ages. Off with some boy, I suspect. Ah you young ‘uns. You don’t know you’re born. If I’d’ve behaved like you lot my old Mam would’ve rattled me from here to kingdom come, and that’s before me Dad’d have his turn. Wouldn’t be letting me go out for sweets for a month of Sundays. That’s 3 new pence love.” She added, taking the money Petunia had already set on the counter.
Petunia snatched up the bar. “Thanks Mrs Dougherty. Bye.”
“Ta-ra.”
Outside, Petunia hurried along the street conscious of the eyes of the neighbours all around her. Urgh. She was only twenty minutes late- and besides she was nearly sixteen and practically an adult. Dad had totally over-reacted, and now these nosy neighbours were going to cause more trouble if Dad popped in for some fags on the way home from work. She was meant to be in the house all day cleaning like a slave, but then Mum had gone out in her stupid yellow uniform for the primary school kids and Petunia had reckoned it wouldn’t take long to just grab something to keep her spirits up.
You wait, she vowed, thundering along the narrow street to get home before anyone else saw her, glaring at the blind net curtains of each of the small windows of the row of terraces, as if spies hid behind every one. One day I’ll get out of this place and go and live somewhere that people mind their own business instead of everybody else’s!
(A touch of irony there)