Read Online Bilgewater by Jane Gardam - Free Book Online

she said. “We drove over the moors from York here yesterday—all the poor sheep with their bottoms turned into the wind. Just like grey chrysanthemums.”
    The Bex VI, Set B, had no views on this so Grace turned back to me and tossed her pink candy floss about which did not look like dead chrysanthemums or sheep’s bottoms. “Well old Marigold Bilgewater Green,” she said, “it’s nice to see you again after all these years. I like your hair. It’s gone quite curly. It’s great to see a face you know.”

C HAPTER 5
    I went bursting home from school to Paula that afternoon as I have never done before or since, up to the ironing room, over to the sick room, the San, down to father’s study and at length ran her to earth with father over in the Long Dormitory. Boys scuttered out round my feet like rats from a barn as I flew in. I banged into Boakes with his face in a book as he walked out and I collapsed up to Paula who was demonstrating blind cords and neither she nor father showed any great interest in the news I brought.
    â€œGrace Gathering’s arrived,” I declared.
    â€œThink they’d all been trying to hang theirzelves,” said Paula. “Shredded to bits so they won’t pull downwards, or
elze
they get pulled about too hard and ping back!”
    â€œPing back,” said father meditatively, squinting out at a vista, “Hullo Marigold. Lovely cloud formation. Look.”
    â€œSo they’ll have to be renewed and it’ll cost a hundred pounds and will have to be faced.”
    â€œGrace Gathering’s here.”
    â€œIt’s not dezent the way they spring about naked.” (She pronounced it to rhyme with baked.)
    â€œOh come now,” said father, “I’m sure it’s not important. Who’s arrived, Marigold?”
    â€œGrace Gathering. She’s been expelled from Dartington Hall. She’s coming to our school. She’s going to live at home over at the Head’s.”
    â€œOh good. She’ll be a friend for you,” Paula said, “and I’m not having those great hairy seniors prancing about no blinds drawn and young girls about corruptible. Who’s this Grace Gatherin’ then?”
    â€œWell she’s Grace
Gathering
. She was once my best friend. Don’t you remember. She’s
terribly
friendly and she’s grown simply beautiful. And
kind
,” I added coldly as Paula started leaning about with a tape measure.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you?” she said. “Who’s
un
kind? B EWARE OF SELF PITY . All I have to get straight at the moment is whether I can order new
bloinds
.”
    â€œCouldn’t you—run up some of those nice net curtains we used to have long ago?” father asked a bit exhaustedly.
    â€œDirt catchers. Fol-de-rols. Burned them all long since and there’ll be no more in my time. After my time may be. And they need good thick bloinds in winter as well as curtains. For warmth. No patience with this Tom Brown’s Schooldays fiddle-de-dee—” On and on they went.
    â€œI’m going now,” I said and they paid no attention. “I’m going across to the Head’s to look her up.” This was a very extraordinary thing for me to do as I never stirred foot after school over the House doorstep but all Paula cried was, “Supper. Don’t forget your supper. Eggs and beans gets leathery.”
    â€œI shall be
out
to supper,” I declared and vanished round the woodsheds, loitering over the road, past the other Houses, and out of sight towards the Headmaster’s wrought-iron work and Georgian front door. What I thought I was going to do when I got there I know not, but the arrival of Grace had shaken me very oddly. I had felt quite certain from the moment she appeared that she had been in some way Sent—that she was some sort of salvation, even though until the moment she had put her head