Read Online Eva and the Hidden Diary by Judi Curtin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Judi Curtin
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way and it didn’t seem right to give up without trying.
‘Right,’ I said, trying to sound brave. ‘Let’s go.’
I pulled one of the gates half open, and the two of us walked towards the house. Our feet made crunchy noises on the gravel, and that distracted me from the thump-thump noises my heart was making. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was afraid of, and in a way, that made things even worse. I was tempted to turn around and run.
‘If there’s a guard dog, I’m totally out of here,’ I said.
‘This is important,’ said Kate. ‘We can’t let Daisy down.’
‘If there’s a dog chewing my leg, we mightjust have to let her down,’ I muttered.
Kate laughed. She totally loves all animals, even scary ones with big sharp teeth.
After what felt like a hundred years, we made it safely to the front door.
‘Maybe no one lives here any more,’ I said.
‘If that’s the case, then someone should tell the milkman,’ said Kate, pointing to a bottle of milk on the doorstep.
I knocked and gave a small jump as I heard the sound of the knock echoing through the house. A long minute passed.
‘I don’t think anyone’s home,’ I said, trying not to sound too relieved.
I was getting ready to walk away when we heard the click of high-heeled shoes on a wooden floor. I heard the sound of keys being turned, and seconds later, the door was open and a woman was standing looking at us.
‘Yes?’ she asked. ‘What can I do for you two girls?’
The woman was smiling at us in a friendly kind of way, and I started to feel a small bit braver.
‘Er, hi,’ I said. ‘My name is Eva, and this is my friend, Kate.’
The woman probably guessed that we hadn’t walked up her driveway and knocked on her door just to tell her our names. She looked at my mucky clothes, and she seemed to be waiting for me to say something else. Only trouble was, I didn’t know how to continue.
I looked desperately at Kate, but she just shrugged helplessly.
‘Er …… er …… Kate and I cycled here from Seacove,’ I said. ‘Er … we’re really interested in local history … it’s kind of like our specialist subject … and we …… were wondering … if … if well if you happen to know anything about a man called George Eades.’
‘Of course I know something about George Eades,’ the woman said. ‘He was my grandfather.But he was a quiet, private man and I’m afraid I can’t see why you girls would be interested in him.’
By now I was getting desperate. The vague plan I’d come up with in the safety of my own garden wasn’t much help now that I was standing on this doorstep trying to make conversation with George Eades’ grand-daughter.
I looked at Kate again, but she was no help whatsoever. She was playing with a piece of her hair, and acting like none of this had anything to do with her at all.
‘Er… we just wanted to know what George Eades was like and stuff,’ I said.
This was turning out to be a nightmare. The woman was tapping her foot on the shiny wooden floor and starting to look impatient. I guessed we had about thirty seconds before she told us to leave.
‘Just tell her the truth,’ said Kate, finally finding her voice.
I knew she was right. When you can’t think of any good lies, the truth is probably the best way to go.
I took the photograph out of my pocket and held it towards the woman. She took it from me and looked at it for a minute.
‘That’s a sweet photograph,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know these people. What have they got to do with me? What have they got to do with my grandfather?’
‘That’s a photo of the Lavelle family,’ I said. ‘Daisy, Florrie and Jean-Marc. They used to live over in Seacove – in the little house where I’m spending my summer holidays. They were a really happy family – at first. But then Mr Lavelle got sent to prison for something he didn’t do. There was a court case and we think that George Eades, your grandfather––’
Now the
‘Right,’ I said, trying to sound brave. ‘Let’s go.’
I pulled one of the gates half open, and the two of us walked towards the house. Our feet made crunchy noises on the gravel, and that distracted me from the thump-thump noises my heart was making. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was afraid of, and in a way, that made things even worse. I was tempted to turn around and run.
‘If there’s a guard dog, I’m totally out of here,’ I said.
‘This is important,’ said Kate. ‘We can’t let Daisy down.’
‘If there’s a dog chewing my leg, we mightjust have to let her down,’ I muttered.
Kate laughed. She totally loves all animals, even scary ones with big sharp teeth.
After what felt like a hundred years, we made it safely to the front door.
‘Maybe no one lives here any more,’ I said.
‘If that’s the case, then someone should tell the milkman,’ said Kate, pointing to a bottle of milk on the doorstep.
I knocked and gave a small jump as I heard the sound of the knock echoing through the house. A long minute passed.
‘I don’t think anyone’s home,’ I said, trying not to sound too relieved.
I was getting ready to walk away when we heard the click of high-heeled shoes on a wooden floor. I heard the sound of keys being turned, and seconds later, the door was open and a woman was standing looking at us.
‘Yes?’ she asked. ‘What can I do for you two girls?’
The woman was smiling at us in a friendly kind of way, and I started to feel a small bit braver.
‘Er, hi,’ I said. ‘My name is Eva, and this is my friend, Kate.’
The woman probably guessed that we hadn’t walked up her driveway and knocked on her door just to tell her our names. She looked at my mucky clothes, and she seemed to be waiting for me to say something else. Only trouble was, I didn’t know how to continue.
I looked desperately at Kate, but she just shrugged helplessly.
‘Er …… er …… Kate and I cycled here from Seacove,’ I said. ‘Er … we’re really interested in local history … it’s kind of like our specialist subject … and we …… were wondering … if … if well if you happen to know anything about a man called George Eades.’
‘Of course I know something about George Eades,’ the woman said. ‘He was my grandfather.But he was a quiet, private man and I’m afraid I can’t see why you girls would be interested in him.’
By now I was getting desperate. The vague plan I’d come up with in the safety of my own garden wasn’t much help now that I was standing on this doorstep trying to make conversation with George Eades’ grand-daughter.
I looked at Kate again, but she was no help whatsoever. She was playing with a piece of her hair, and acting like none of this had anything to do with her at all.
‘Er… we just wanted to know what George Eades was like and stuff,’ I said.
This was turning out to be a nightmare. The woman was tapping her foot on the shiny wooden floor and starting to look impatient. I guessed we had about thirty seconds before she told us to leave.
‘Just tell her the truth,’ said Kate, finally finding her voice.
I knew she was right. When you can’t think of any good lies, the truth is probably the best way to go.
I took the photograph out of my pocket and held it towards the woman. She took it from me and looked at it for a minute.
‘That’s a sweet photograph,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know these people. What have they got to do with me? What have they got to do with my grandfather?’
‘That’s a photo of the Lavelle family,’ I said. ‘Daisy, Florrie and Jean-Marc. They used to live over in Seacove – in the little house where I’m spending my summer holidays. They were a really happy family – at first. But then Mr Lavelle got sent to prison for something he didn’t do. There was a court case and we think that George Eades, your grandfather––’
Now the
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