Plot:
Marjory Lane is a talented pianist who is practising for an important audition, but the piano at her home has been left to fall into bad condition since her father’s death. She is offered tuition and use of piano by Carl Walden but her mother won’t allow it as she blames Carl for her husbands death.
Notes:
- Text Story
- The story was adapted into a Picture Library Story.
Appeared:
- A Piano For Marjory– Diana: #167 (30 April 1966) – #173 (11 June 1966)
- Reprinted as a Picture Library Story A Piano For Marjory – Bunty PSL: #231 (1982)
‘A Piano For Marjorie’ runs in DIANA 167 (April 30 1966) – 173 (June 11 1966). I didn’t recognise the title so I had to check my DIANA listings, which did not contain it. Thinking I had somehow missed it out, I extracted the relevant year, only to discover that it is a text story, which explains why I hadn’t listed it. No text stories are to be featured in BUNTY AND HER SISTERS.
I should have written ‘A Piano For Marjory’ of course, not Marjorie. Sorry, it’s been a busy day one way or another. Lois turned up unexpectedly at half ten with Lily, Autumn, Kenza and Jess, They only seemed to want a chat. They were still here gossiping at quarter past eleven, so I had to shoo them all out then as I wanted to keep my eye on what turned out to be a very exciting and involving final day of the Test Match. I gave Lois three free tickets to Hayle swimming pool, and one adult spectator ticket so that Russ could go with them, also free of charge. Depending on how many of them went, Russ might have had to pay for one or two of them. Tomorrow afternoon I’m going up to Lois’s to play the board game SORRY and the card game SPEED. A few hours of that will keep her out of mischief. In the morning I’m going to NEXT to get a couple of pairs of jeans. Lois said, “Not before time, either.” The cheeky mare!!!!! Not to worry. She’ll be back to school in a week or so, and I won’t(!!!%&%!!! = Na Na na Na Na). In Year 9 too. Doesn’t time fly? My petrol costs will rocket. I was supposed to be giving her some revision work in French this holiday but we never got round to it. A good thing really I believe. I remember handing over a 4th year summer term report to my father, in which Mr Kemp, my History teacher, was very critical of my work and my general attitude to his subject. Well, not surprising really as the lessons constantly interfered with my thinking about my imaginary football leagues. But there you go. I’m convinced that my father never understood children. He sent me back to school the next morning to get the text book that like everybody else I had handed in. I had to do so, otherwise I’d have got a belting, and my dad was certainly pleased when I showed him it when he got home from work. Three guesses as to how much work I did during that holiday, and I’m not referring just to History.
Coda:- I passed my GCE ‘O’ Level History with 45%, the bare minimum, but, as they don’t exactly say in France, “un oeuf is un oeuf”.