Read Online Falling Angels by Tracy Chevalier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tracy Chevalier
Ads: Link
ghost and all. I don't think anyone but Ivy May heard me--no one came back to see what was wrong.
When I had recovered I said, "What are you doing up there, naughty boy?"
"Looking at you," he said cheekily.
"Do you like me, then?" I asked.
"Sure."
"Better than Maude? I'm prettier."
"Her mum's the prettiest of all," he said.
I frowned. That was not at all what I'd wanted him to say. "Come, Ivy May," I said, "we must find the others." I held out my hand to her, but she would not take it. She just looked up at Simon, her hands clasped behind her as if she were inspecting something.
"Ivy May don't say much, do she?" he said.
"No, she doesn't."
"Sometimes I do," she said.
"There you go." Simon nodded. He smiled at her, and to my surprise Ivy May smiled back.
That was when the man came back--Mr. Jackson, the one who talked about all the burning. He rushed around the corner, saw Simon and me, and stopped.
"What are you doing here, Simon? You're meant to be helping your father. And what are you doing with these girls? They're not for the likes of you. Has he been bothering you, young lady?" he said to me.
"Oh, yes, he's been bothering me awfully," I said.
"Simon! I'll have your father's job for this. Go and tell him to stop digging. That's the end of you, lad."
I wasn't sure if he was bluffing. But Simon scrambled to his feet and stared at the man. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he glanced at me and didn't. Then suddenly he took a few steps back and before I knew it he'd jumped clear over our heads from the roof of the columbarium to the circle with the cedar in it. I was so surprised I just stood there with my mouth open. He must have jumped ten feet.
"Simon!" the man shouted again. Simon scrambled up the cedar and began creeping out along one of the branches. When he was quite a long way up he stopped and sat on the branch with his back to us, swinging his legs. He wore no shoes.
"She was lying. He wasn't bothering us."
Ivy May often chooses to speak just when I don't want her to. I felt like pinching her.
Mr. Jackson raised his eyebrows. "What was he doing?"
I couldn't think what to say, and looked at Ivy May.
"He was showing us where to go," Ivy May said.
I nodded. "We were lost, you see."
Mr. Jackson sighed. His jaw moved about as if he were chewing something. "Why don't I escort you two young ladies to your mother. Do you know where she is?"
"At our grave," I said.
"And what is your name?"
"Lavinia Ermyntrude Waterhouse."
"Ah, in the meadow, with an angel on it."
"Yes. I chose that angel, you know."
"Come with me, then."
As we turned to follow him I did give Ivy May a great pinch, but it was not very satisfying because she did not cry out--I suppose she thought she had used her mouth enough for one day.
Edith Coleman
I cut short my visit. I had planned to stay to supper and to see Richard, but found the trip to the cemetery so trying that when we returned to my son's house I asked the maid to fetch me a cab. The girl was standing in the hallway with a dose of Beecham's on a tray--the only time she has ever had the sense to anticipate anyone's needs. She had flavored it with lime water, which was entirely unnecessary, and I told her so, at which point she giggled. Insolent girl. I would have shown her the door in an instant, but Kitty didn't seem to notice.
It was most annoying that Kitty didn't tell me who the Waterhouses were--then I would have avoided an unfortunate moment. (I can't help but wonder if she did it deliberately.) When we visited our grave I remarked on the angel on the next grave. Richard has indicated for some time that he intends to ask the grave owners to replace the angel with an urn to match ours. I merely asked Gertrude Waterhouse her opinion--neglecting as I did so to note the name on the grave. I was as surprised to discover it is their angel as she was to find we do not like it. In the interest of getting the truth out into the open--someone must, after
When I had recovered I said, "What are you doing up there, naughty boy?"
"Looking at you," he said cheekily.
"Do you like me, then?" I asked.
"Sure."
"Better than Maude? I'm prettier."
"Her mum's the prettiest of all," he said.
I frowned. That was not at all what I'd wanted him to say. "Come, Ivy May," I said, "we must find the others." I held out my hand to her, but she would not take it. She just looked up at Simon, her hands clasped behind her as if she were inspecting something.
"Ivy May don't say much, do she?" he said.
"No, she doesn't."
"Sometimes I do," she said.
"There you go." Simon nodded. He smiled at her, and to my surprise Ivy May smiled back.
That was when the man came back--Mr. Jackson, the one who talked about all the burning. He rushed around the corner, saw Simon and me, and stopped.
"What are you doing here, Simon? You're meant to be helping your father. And what are you doing with these girls? They're not for the likes of you. Has he been bothering you, young lady?" he said to me.
"Oh, yes, he's been bothering me awfully," I said.
"Simon! I'll have your father's job for this. Go and tell him to stop digging. That's the end of you, lad."
I wasn't sure if he was bluffing. But Simon scrambled to his feet and stared at the man. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he glanced at me and didn't. Then suddenly he took a few steps back and before I knew it he'd jumped clear over our heads from the roof of the columbarium to the circle with the cedar in it. I was so surprised I just stood there with my mouth open. He must have jumped ten feet.
"Simon!" the man shouted again. Simon scrambled up the cedar and began creeping out along one of the branches. When he was quite a long way up he stopped and sat on the branch with his back to us, swinging his legs. He wore no shoes.
"She was lying. He wasn't bothering us."
Ivy May often chooses to speak just when I don't want her to. I felt like pinching her.
Mr. Jackson raised his eyebrows. "What was he doing?"
I couldn't think what to say, and looked at Ivy May.
"He was showing us where to go," Ivy May said.
I nodded. "We were lost, you see."
Mr. Jackson sighed. His jaw moved about as if he were chewing something. "Why don't I escort you two young ladies to your mother. Do you know where she is?"
"At our grave," I said.
"And what is your name?"
"Lavinia Ermyntrude Waterhouse."
"Ah, in the meadow, with an angel on it."
"Yes. I chose that angel, you know."
"Come with me, then."
As we turned to follow him I did give Ivy May a great pinch, but it was not very satisfying because she did not cry out--I suppose she thought she had used her mouth enough for one day.
Edith Coleman
I cut short my visit. I had planned to stay to supper and to see Richard, but found the trip to the cemetery so trying that when we returned to my son's house I asked the maid to fetch me a cab. The girl was standing in the hallway with a dose of Beecham's on a tray--the only time she has ever had the sense to anticipate anyone's needs. She had flavored it with lime water, which was entirely unnecessary, and I told her so, at which point she giggled. Insolent girl. I would have shown her the door in an instant, but Kitty didn't seem to notice.
It was most annoying that Kitty didn't tell me who the Waterhouses were--then I would have avoided an unfortunate moment. (I can't help but wonder if she did it deliberately.) When we visited our grave I remarked on the angel on the next grave. Richard has indicated for some time that he intends to ask the grave owners to replace the angel with an urn to match ours. I merely asked Gertrude Waterhouse her opinion--neglecting as I did so to note the name on the grave. I was as surprised to discover it is their angel as she was to find we do not like it. In the interest of getting the truth out into the open--someone must, after
Similar Books
The Bitter Road to Freedom: The Human Cost of Allied Victory in World War II Europe
William I. Hitchcock
