Read Online Call of the Kiwi by Sarah Lark - Free Book Online

to school,” she informed Elaine.
    “What sort of subversive writing is Lilian putting to paper?” Jack asked, unsettled. “Is she not happy?”
    Elaine laughed. “She is. But I’m afraid Lily’s idea of happiness and that of her teachers don’t always match up. Here, see for yourself.”
    She took Lilian’s last letter out of a pocket in her dress. Elaine liked to carry Lilian’s letters with her and read them over and over until the next one arrived.
    “ ‘Dear Mummy, Daddy, and brothers, ’ ” Jack read aloud. “ ‘I got a bad grade on the English assignment where we were supposed to retell a story of Poe’s. It was so sad that I gave it a different ending. But that was wrong. Edgar Allen Poe sometimes wrote some really sad stories and really weird ones too. But there is no such thing as ghosts, however. I know that because last weekend I was at Bloomingbridge Castle with Amanda Wolveridge. Her family has a real castle, and it is supposed to be haunted, but Amanda and I stayed up all night and did not see any ghosts. Just her stupid brother in a sheet. Other than that, we rode Amanda’s ponies, and it was very fun. My pony was the fastest. Rube, can you send me a weta? Last week we stuck a spider in the map our teacher has to unroll. She was terribly frightened and leaped up on a chair. We could see her underwear. It would be much better with a weta since they sometimes jump after you. ’ ”
    Charlotte giggled as though she were still a little girl playing pranks on her teacher. Jack laughed, too, though he was disheartened. The letter was delightful; you could almost hear little Lilian prattling. Gloria’s letters were almost eerie by comparison. He would have to dig deeper. Only he had no idea how to go about doing that.
     

6
    G loria hated every second at Oaks Garden.
    Her spiteful roommate ripped her to pieces. Perhaps she envied Gloria’s famous mother, but more likely she was just looking for a scapegoat on whom to take out all of her own frustrations. Either way, Gloria was incapable of paying the girl’s scorn back in kind. Nor, however, could she ignore it. She was also well aware that she was far from adorable and looked awkward in her school uniform. And her lack of intelligence and talent was mercilessly brought to her attention every day.
    Not that the school was such a treasure trove of creative talent. Despite the school’s claim to be a bastion of the fine arts, most of the students smeared paint on their canvases with the same amateur strokes as Gloria and only managed to depict a house or garden from a halfway correct perspective with a good deal of help. Gabrielle Wentworth played the violin horrendously, and Melissa was not much better on the cello.
    But choir was the worst. Everyone except Gloria enjoyed singing in the choir. Then again, none of the other students had to endure a torture comparable to that of the daughter of Kura-maro-tini Martyn.
    “The daughter of the celebrated Mrs. Martyn!” Miss Wedgewood’s eyes gleamed when she called Gloria up to the podium first thing. “I’ve looked forward to meeting you so. Our alto section is a little weak, and if you have even half your mother’s voice, you should be able to hold it up. Could you sing an A for us?”
    She struck the note on the piano, and Gloria attempted to repeat it. Gloria was already embarrassed at having to stand next to the piano in front of the class. The reference to her mother did the rest. Gloria could not manage a single note. Although she had a strong and dulcet singing voice, the girl did not trust herself to sing even the simplest song properly and simply stood there self-consciously, unable to overcome her nerves.
    “Hmm. You don’t take after your mother at all,” Miss Wedgewood finally said, clearly disappointed, and Gloria disappeared into the last row, next to Gabrielle, who took every opportunity to blame any mistakes on her.
    Lilian wasn’t any help. The girls were assigned to