Read Online (5/20)Over the Gate by Miss Read - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Miss Read
Tags: Historical
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Bertha advanced like some avenging fury.
'I'll thank you,' she began ominously, 'to step inside here a minute, Mrs Norton.'
This was the first time that Polly had been so called by her neighbour, and she was at once on her guard.
'What's up?' she enquired, trying to sound at ease, but her voice trembled.
'You knows, as well as I do, what's up!' breathed Bertha menacingly. 'You dare to dress up that kid of yours just like my Maria and parade it in front of all Fairacre! Trying to make me a laughing-stock! I've had enough of you and your copying ways!'
Polly tried to laugh, but she was very frightened. There is nothing more terrifying than a calm woman suddenly aroused. She had no idea that placid Bertha could feel such venom, or express it with such menace.
'No law against buying a coat and bonnet for my baby, I suppose?' queried Polly.
'No, nor curtains, nor flowers, nor hats, nor bedspreads, same as mine,' burst out Bertha, 'but you're not going to do it any longer, my girl, or you'll be in trouble! Take it from me, Polly Norton, if I ever sees any more copying from you I'll be round at your place and black your eye for you! I've just about had enough, see?"
She thrust a red furious face close to Polly's startled one and slammed the gate between them. Polly, much shaken, moved slowly towards her own.
'I'll tell—' she began truculently.
'You'll tell no-one,' Bertha cut in. 'All the village is on my side. You've branded yourself as a plain copycat. I ain't saying no more to you. Not ever. But just you mark what I've said to you!'
Still pulsing with righteous indignation, Bertha returned indoors to attend to the children and Leslie's tea.
'I feels all the better for that,' she told herself. 'It's cleared the air. Come to think of it, I should've done it months ago.'
Now that battle was joined, Bertha found life much more straightforward. She simply ignored her neighbour. If she met her in the garden, or in the village street, she had the exquisite pleasure of looking clean through her. Polly retaliated with a toss of the head or a muttered aside. The village watched with avid interest. There were a few who maintained that Polly was not as bad as she was painted, but the majority felt she had got off lightly in the affair and that Bertha had every justification for cutting off relations with her neighbour.
The two husbands found the whole thing very trying. At work, they talked normally to each other, each being careful to leave his wife's name out of the conversation. At home, they did their best to soothe their wives and keep out of trouble's way. It was not easy. Both women were expecting again, Bertha in October and Polly a month later, and tempers were frayed all round.
However, Polly had seen reason in Bertha's tirade that dark evening, and although she would not admit that she was in the wrong, she took care not to rouse her fire again by any obvious copying. Unfortunately, much remained that had been done before the split occurred. The canaries still sang and fluttered in the two front windows. The white stones flanked the two doorsteps, the curtains, the bedspreads and the babies' coats still remained identical, for neither would give way.
Even worse was the simultaneous ripening of the two rowan trees in the front gardens. Bertha's had been planted soon after their arrival, Polly's a month or two later. This year Polly's was covered in bright red clusters of berries. Bertha's was decidedly inferior. Bertha, now near her time, a massive unwieldy figure venturing no further than the garden, watched her neighbour picking sprays to take indoors It gave her no comfort to see that Polly was wearing a blue flowered smock over her bulk exactly like the one she had on. They had been worn during their earlier pregnancies and one could hardly expect Polly to throw hers away Nevertheless, Bertha found the sight annoying. Would she never be free from Polly shadowing her?
A week later Bertha was brought to bed.
'I'll thank you,' she began ominously, 'to step inside here a minute, Mrs Norton.'
This was the first time that Polly had been so called by her neighbour, and she was at once on her guard.
'What's up?' she enquired, trying to sound at ease, but her voice trembled.
'You knows, as well as I do, what's up!' breathed Bertha menacingly. 'You dare to dress up that kid of yours just like my Maria and parade it in front of all Fairacre! Trying to make me a laughing-stock! I've had enough of you and your copying ways!'
Polly tried to laugh, but she was very frightened. There is nothing more terrifying than a calm woman suddenly aroused. She had no idea that placid Bertha could feel such venom, or express it with such menace.
'No law against buying a coat and bonnet for my baby, I suppose?' queried Polly.
'No, nor curtains, nor flowers, nor hats, nor bedspreads, same as mine,' burst out Bertha, 'but you're not going to do it any longer, my girl, or you'll be in trouble! Take it from me, Polly Norton, if I ever sees any more copying from you I'll be round at your place and black your eye for you! I've just about had enough, see?"
She thrust a red furious face close to Polly's startled one and slammed the gate between them. Polly, much shaken, moved slowly towards her own.
'I'll tell—' she began truculently.
'You'll tell no-one,' Bertha cut in. 'All the village is on my side. You've branded yourself as a plain copycat. I ain't saying no more to you. Not ever. But just you mark what I've said to you!'
Still pulsing with righteous indignation, Bertha returned indoors to attend to the children and Leslie's tea.
'I feels all the better for that,' she told herself. 'It's cleared the air. Come to think of it, I should've done it months ago.'
Now that battle was joined, Bertha found life much more straightforward. She simply ignored her neighbour. If she met her in the garden, or in the village street, she had the exquisite pleasure of looking clean through her. Polly retaliated with a toss of the head or a muttered aside. The village watched with avid interest. There were a few who maintained that Polly was not as bad as she was painted, but the majority felt she had got off lightly in the affair and that Bertha had every justification for cutting off relations with her neighbour.
The two husbands found the whole thing very trying. At work, they talked normally to each other, each being careful to leave his wife's name out of the conversation. At home, they did their best to soothe their wives and keep out of trouble's way. It was not easy. Both women were expecting again, Bertha in October and Polly a month later, and tempers were frayed all round.
However, Polly had seen reason in Bertha's tirade that dark evening, and although she would not admit that she was in the wrong, she took care not to rouse her fire again by any obvious copying. Unfortunately, much remained that had been done before the split occurred. The canaries still sang and fluttered in the two front windows. The white stones flanked the two doorsteps, the curtains, the bedspreads and the babies' coats still remained identical, for neither would give way.
Even worse was the simultaneous ripening of the two rowan trees in the front gardens. Bertha's had been planted soon after their arrival, Polly's a month or two later. This year Polly's was covered in bright red clusters of berries. Bertha's was decidedly inferior. Bertha, now near her time, a massive unwieldy figure venturing no further than the garden, watched her neighbour picking sprays to take indoors It gave her no comfort to see that Polly was wearing a blue flowered smock over her bulk exactly like the one she had on. They had been worn during their earlier pregnancies and one could hardly expect Polly to throw hers away Nevertheless, Bertha found the sight annoying. Would she never be free from Polly shadowing her?
A week later Bertha was brought to bed.
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