Liars' League

Takeaway by Alison Willis

 Takeaway

Read by Louisa Gummer

By my age, all the good men are either married or gay. Luckily for me, I'm married to a good man. Unluckily for him, he's married to me.

On Mondays, Andrea has gymnastics. On Tuesdays, Josh has under-nines football. On Wednesdays both of them have music lessons (Andrea plays the flute, indifferently; Josh is learning guitar). Friday's our family night; the kids watch DVDs, we order a takeaway from the organic pizza restaurant or the ethical Chinese or the authentic Indian, and Michael and I have sex, unless he's too tired. I'm never too tired; bored, yes, never tired. There's nothing more important to children than a stable home; there's nothing more crucial to a stable home than a happy marriage, and there's nothing more essential to a happy marriage than a healthy sex-life.

If you would like to read the rest of this story, please check out Lovers' Lies, the Arachne Press anthology in which it, and many other sexy and lovable stories from the League archives, appears.

Lavender Bunny and Celebrity Come Dine With Me by Quintin Forrest

LB and CCDWM

Read by Will Goodhand

Fame, fatal fame.

To be fair, everyone said that it wouldn't last. In fact for the last few weeks, nobody seemed to talk about anything else. It got so that by the end, Lavender Bunny and I could hardly face Stringfellows, it was as if Death himself was following us around, or sitting at our table in the VIP area, meaningfully eyeing the other celebs. It was a worry.

Deal or No Deal by Alan McCormick

Deal or No Deal

Read by Lin Sagovsky

 

The problem with you Brenda is you – you’re your own worst enemy. It was comments like this that made Brenda feel a little mad.  Not because she felt insulted or crazy, but because she didn’t understand what was meant by it.

 

The Tasting Menu by Liam Hogan

The Tasting Menu

Read by Lucie Howard

 

The twins giggled and fluttered the menu cards like fans around their flawless necks.  Lady sighed, and wondered again what she was doing there. She scanned the crowded room, hoping to see someone to talk to, someone interesting, or at least someone who wasn’t so very gauche, so very nouveau.  Instead, her eyes fell on their host, Herr Von Mueller. What on earth was he wearing? Some sort of a frock coat?

 

When You Are Gone by Brindley Hallam Dennis

When You Are Gone

Read by Kevin Potton

 

We were planning to insulate ourselves against the cold, and so I’d gone up into the loft to clear it out. There was all sorts of junk up there we’d been meaning to get around to throwing out. There were twenty years and more of what we’d done without, out of sight, out of mind, but which we hadn’t brought ourselves to finally get rid of.