Romance, friendship, comedy, British... what more could you want?

 A Proper Charlie

a true British comedy!

‘You weren’t in love with Andy, babe. You were in love with love.’

‘Don’t get all psycho-thingy on me,’ she said. ‘He was my soul mate. I loved him.’ Glass in hand, she pointed at Melvin, tipping sticky Malibu over his arm. ‘You know what a soul mate is?’

‘Enlighten me.’

She downed her drink, and reached for the bottle again. ‘It’s when you can tell what the other is thinking without talking. It’s when sex is out of this world!’ She frowned. ‘It wasn’t quite like that with Andy, but we were heading in the right direction.’

‘Sure you were.’

‘I’m such a bitch,’ she said, wailing. ‘Why’d I treat him so badly?’

‘I guess you’re a nasty person.’

She nodded in agreement. ‘I’m a cow.’

Melvin went to sip his Malibu, hesitated, then put the glass down on the coffee table.

‘You’re evil, Charlie. I mean,’ he held up a hand and began counting off his fingers, ‘you give him free board and lodgings as and when he wants it. You complain when he messes up your home, you’re suspicious of his motives because he talks of deals and stuff, but then has nothing to show for it. And, lastly, you accuse him of seeing another woman, who, Andy Pandy insists, is the wife of his very single pal Dave. As I said, utterly evil. I’m surprised he’s put up with you for this long.’

Charlie popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth. ‘Do you think I should’ve been nicer to him?’

Melvin nodded. ‘I do. At least offered him one of your kidneys, or something.’

She mulled it over as she poured herself another glass of Malibu. She tossed it down her throat. ‘I’ve been such a bitch.’

‘Yeah,’ Melvin agreed. He stood up. ‘I’m going to make myself a cup of tea.’ He screwed the lid back on the Malibu. ‘And one for you, too. I don’t think drinking this neat is a good idea.’

‘It’s a very good idea,’ Charlie said, making a swipe for the bottle.

 

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 She's losing her job.
She's losing her boyfriend.
She can only afford to eat spaghetti hoops on toast.
She's called Charlie... or Charlotte, or ginger, ginge, Duracell,
carrot.
Yet with all these odds against her, she pushes forward to
take the lead story on her paper at London Core.
Shame no one knows. Shame she's the office general assistant and not a real journalist.
Shame it's on missing prostitutes and Charlie thinks pretending to be a 'tart
with a heart' will get her that story.
She doesn't just get a story.
She becomes the starring role.

More rants from the minds of fictional people - Benefit Street

 Bolshy, moody and downright badtempered Valerie Anthrope gives her opinion on the current TV show Benefit Street.

Amazon

I watched Benefit Street last night, and my God, I wanted to reach into the TV screen and slap every one of those lazy, good-for-nothings. How dare they think they have a right to our precious welfare system, built to provide for the needy NOT the lazy.

There was one woman (she ate her way through her dole cheque judging by her size) who believed she was the spokeswoman for the entire street and wouldn’t let anyone else get a word in. She seemed to think that what she received in handouts wasn’t enough because she was forced—yeah right—to go to soup kitchens just to eat. Did I mention she was fat? That’s some soup!

And then there was this guy whose 'job' was scrounging for more money on the streets (to top up his benefits) from the hard-working. 

Another stole for a living to feed his six kids. He said he can’t work because he needs to help his wife look after the sprogs, on the plus side it’s a two-parent family. Think he was a rarity on that street.

And all those people, well the majority anyway had mobile phones, flatscreen TV, they smoked and managed to sink several pints in the pub on a daily basis! That's not struggling on the welfare system that's bloody taking the piss!

Work-shy scrougers the lot of them. - Valerie Anthrope from Oh no, I've Fallen in Love!

Now for the turn of gullible but thinks-she's-smart Charlotte (Charlie) Wallis

Amazon

There was a heart-breaking programme on the box last night. About people living on welfare, or trying to. Obviously, it isn't enough money for the poor sods because the majority are forced to steal just to eat! 

One guy has six children to feed and the money he's given isn't enough for them. Just because he's on benefits doesn't mean his kids are! The children shouldn't have to suffer. Where is their support, eh? 

A lady, White Dee, I think her name was, was the street’s backbone. An intelligent voice among the demoralised.

The programme was a little bit of a circus for the working smug, which I don't think was the intention, or at least I hope not, becuase once you’re on the downward slope of being without a job, with no prospects and live amongst others like yourself you become discouraged and eventually probably depressed. 

And I should know. I've been there. Luckily, I had a friend to pull me back up else I'd probably still be in the gutter. But what do these people have? 

Diddley squat, that's what. There needs to be more out there for people who are battling with unemployment. More help and more money. - Charlie Wallis from A Proper Charlie.

What's a girl to do when she discovers her boss is a wanted man? British chicklit by @louise_wise

This 'emotional scene' is short and sweet. A Proper Charlie is a British book which brings together two different classes: the upper and and lower class. This scene shows how different the main character, Charlie, is from the man she's fallen in love with...

Charlie nodded. ‘Of course I will.’ She forced a smile. ‘I understand why you have to go.’ And she did, only she badly wanted him to stay. To stay and finish making love to her. To tell her he loved her.

She swallowed hard. Her world was miles apart from Ben’s. She bought her clothes from Primark, whereas he had his tailor-made. He ate the finest foods, while she dined on oven chips and fish fingers. He drove a fresh-off-the-forecourt Audi, while she drove a battered old Fiesta. She lived in a dingy block of flats, with junkies and single mothers, while he lived in a beautiful house with a swimming pool and a butler. She didn’t know the latter, but she could imagine it.

He’d probably feel embarrassed if he knew what she felt about him – or worse, pity.

‘What’s going through your mind?’

She blinked herself to the present. ‘Eh?’

‘You’ve been standing in a trance for the last few minutes.’

She flushed. ‘Ben,’ she began. But she couldn’t finish. ‘Good night,’ she said instead. ‘I sincerely wish you well with your family bust-up.’

He smiled. ‘Thank you. Families,’ he said, with a jerk of his head. ‘Who’d have them?’

Then he was gone.

‘I would,’ she answered the closed door. ‘I would.’

 What's a girl to do when she discovers her boss is a wanted man?

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become a honey trap, that's what.

She's losing her job.
She's losing her boyfriend.
She can only afford to eat spaghetti hoops on toast.
She's called Charlie... or Charlotte, or ginger, ginge, Duracell,
carrot.
Yet with all these odds against her, she pushes forward to
take the lead story on her paper at London Core.
Shame no one knows. Shame she's the office general assistant and not a real journalist.
Shame it's on missing prostitutes and Charlie thinks pretending to be a 'tart
with a heart' will get her that story.
She doesn't just get a story.
She becomes the starring role.