Read Online Love Notes from Vinegar House by Karen Tayleur - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen Tayleur
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autopilot. The running water continued. I thought I heard the sound of splashing about, like someone was in the bath already.
I needed to go to the toilet but I wasn’t about to go if someone was in the bath so I reached out and tugged at the curtain in a jerky move.
“What are you doing?”
I screamed.
There was no one in the bath, but when I turned around Mrs Skelton was standing by the sink watching me with a frown on her face.
“I … I heard the water …”
The housekeeper moved forwards and turned the taps off tightly.
“This house is old,” she said. “The whole plumbing system needs replacing, but …” She shrugged.
“The taps?”
“Sometimes the taps work themselves loose,” said Mrs Skelton. “I’ll get Mr Chilvers to look at it tomorrow.”
Then she pulled at the chain attached to the bathplug so that the water could escape. We didn’t discuss how the plug just happened to be in place.
She stared me down until I said, “All right.”
I felt her watch me as I returned to my bedroom. I left the dresser light on and hopped back into bed, then realised I hadn’t made it to the toilet after all. I’d just have to wait until morning.
And I tried not to think about the splashing noises from the bath.
Chapter 11
I don’t like conflict. Some people seem to like the excitement of it. They enjoy the yelling and the drama, but it makes my insides twist, and I run and hide whenever I can until the trouble is over. I guess you could call me a coward. It’s why I always gave in to my cousin Rumer and why I dread her bad temper. Waiting for Rumer to have one of her meltdowns was like waiting for a threatening thunderstorm. After a couple of days at Vinegar House I could feel the clouds rolling in from the horizon. There was a definite temperature drop and occasional glimpses of lightning when she snapped at me.
“
Please
don’t use my shampoo, it’s very expensive.”
“
I
was going to take that piece of toast.”
“Can you be
quiet
, I’m trying to study.”
“Do you
have
to be so noisy when you get up in the mornings?”
“Are you
totally
stupid?”
It may not seem much to you, but I knew Rumer, and this was the start of something bigger. Something was bugging her and someone was going to pay.
She was spending a lot of time in her room and I wasn’t sure what that was about.
At home I’d sleep in until lunchtime when I was on holidays. At Vinegar House I was waking up early with a cold hot water bottle – which really just made it a cold water bottle, I suppose – and a cold nose, and could only get warm if I had a hot shower. By then I was wide awake and my bed was usually made once I returned to my room. I assumed Mrs Skelton was to blame, but I never caught her at it.
Grandma insisted that Rumer and I come down to breakfast by nine every morning so that Mrs Skelton could clear the breakfast dishes. At home I hardly ever ate breakfast unless it was Sunday, and if I did, it was standing up grabbing bites of toast while doing something else. Still, it was something to do as I was already bored with my homework and we were only allowed to watch TV for a couple of hours at night.
The second morning, Rumer was late downstairs, and by the third morning she nearly missed breakfast altogether. When she did eventually get to the dining table, it wasn’t to eat anything.
“Where’s my red top?” she demanded.
I shrugged and nibbled at my toast crust.
Grandma carefully sectioned off the last of her poached egg and pushed it onto the back of her fork. Once she’d eaten it, she dabbed at her lips with a napkin and placed her knife and fork side by side on the plate.
“Red top?” she repeated.
“I only have one red top here,” said Rumer, “and it’s missing.”
“Elbows,” said Grandma, and Rumer lifted her elbows from the dining table with a puff of exasperation.
“Is it in the wash?” I asked timidly.
“I’ve gone through the clean washing and it isn’t
I needed to go to the toilet but I wasn’t about to go if someone was in the bath so I reached out and tugged at the curtain in a jerky move.
“What are you doing?”
I screamed.
There was no one in the bath, but when I turned around Mrs Skelton was standing by the sink watching me with a frown on her face.
“I … I heard the water …”
The housekeeper moved forwards and turned the taps off tightly.
“This house is old,” she said. “The whole plumbing system needs replacing, but …” She shrugged.
“The taps?”
“Sometimes the taps work themselves loose,” said Mrs Skelton. “I’ll get Mr Chilvers to look at it tomorrow.”
Then she pulled at the chain attached to the bathplug so that the water could escape. We didn’t discuss how the plug just happened to be in place.
She stared me down until I said, “All right.”
I felt her watch me as I returned to my bedroom. I left the dresser light on and hopped back into bed, then realised I hadn’t made it to the toilet after all. I’d just have to wait until morning.
And I tried not to think about the splashing noises from the bath.
Chapter 11
I don’t like conflict. Some people seem to like the excitement of it. They enjoy the yelling and the drama, but it makes my insides twist, and I run and hide whenever I can until the trouble is over. I guess you could call me a coward. It’s why I always gave in to my cousin Rumer and why I dread her bad temper. Waiting for Rumer to have one of her meltdowns was like waiting for a threatening thunderstorm. After a couple of days at Vinegar House I could feel the clouds rolling in from the horizon. There was a definite temperature drop and occasional glimpses of lightning when she snapped at me.
“
Please
don’t use my shampoo, it’s very expensive.”
“
I
was going to take that piece of toast.”
“Can you be
quiet
, I’m trying to study.”
“Do you
have
to be so noisy when you get up in the mornings?”
“Are you
totally
stupid?”
It may not seem much to you, but I knew Rumer, and this was the start of something bigger. Something was bugging her and someone was going to pay.
She was spending a lot of time in her room and I wasn’t sure what that was about.
At home I’d sleep in until lunchtime when I was on holidays. At Vinegar House I was waking up early with a cold hot water bottle – which really just made it a cold water bottle, I suppose – and a cold nose, and could only get warm if I had a hot shower. By then I was wide awake and my bed was usually made once I returned to my room. I assumed Mrs Skelton was to blame, but I never caught her at it.
Grandma insisted that Rumer and I come down to breakfast by nine every morning so that Mrs Skelton could clear the breakfast dishes. At home I hardly ever ate breakfast unless it was Sunday, and if I did, it was standing up grabbing bites of toast while doing something else. Still, it was something to do as I was already bored with my homework and we were only allowed to watch TV for a couple of hours at night.
The second morning, Rumer was late downstairs, and by the third morning she nearly missed breakfast altogether. When she did eventually get to the dining table, it wasn’t to eat anything.
“Where’s my red top?” she demanded.
I shrugged and nibbled at my toast crust.
Grandma carefully sectioned off the last of her poached egg and pushed it onto the back of her fork. Once she’d eaten it, she dabbed at her lips with a napkin and placed her knife and fork side by side on the plate.
“Red top?” she repeated.
“I only have one red top here,” said Rumer, “and it’s missing.”
“Elbows,” said Grandma, and Rumer lifted her elbows from the dining table with a puff of exasperation.
“Is it in the wash?” I asked timidly.
“I’ve gone through the clean washing and it isn’t
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