Read Online Loving Daughters by Olga Masters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Olga Masters
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nearly as wide as the sulky seat, Enid said to herself going inside.
The sulky purred along and so did George. The air was rushing past them clear and cold, making Small Henryâs face a deeper purple. Fresh air was good for him according to Violet, who told her mothers to get their babies out in the air for some time every day and not swaddle them too much or have them close enough to the fire to catch alight.
This thought reminded her of Ned. He might not be home though, out of the way in the bush somewhere and she could sit with George over the kitchen table in intimate talk. The news of her hospital was banked up there in her stout chest and Georgeâs red ear was close by, ready for a stream of words.
George was pacing Dolly out swiftly, not such a good idea in one way if he got to Albert Lane and found Ned at home. But he was dreaming of driving the Austin with the side curtains up and Violet beside him, the child somewhere else. He slapped Dolly into top speed, swaying the sulky as the Austin swayed so that Violet needed to put the arm not holding Small Henry along the back of the sulky seat and Georgeâs tingling back came in contact with her fingers.
âWell, the place hasnât burned down at least,â Violet said, although irritated at the difficulty of getting out of the sulky. She couldnât see the iron step past her skirt and might miss it.
You couldnât see down at all with this great bulk to hang onto! George leapt out and went around Dollyâs head (keep steady while this is on, you perverse old nag!) to help Violet down. She handed him Small Henry instead and his surprise was so great he nearly dropped him, looking up and down the street fearing someone would pop from a door or window and see him. Was he expected to go into the house and face Ned this way? But Violet, taking her time in hooking her bag onto her arm, hoisted Small Henry onto her own shoulder and George, turning hot then cold, was so confused he overlooked tying Dolly to a fence post, until Dolly took a warning step forward, suggesting he watch out for the consequences if she was a free agent.
Ned was in his corner of the kitchen couch, smoking and staring at the stove fire as if his one mission in life was to keep it going. Violet, having dumped Small Henry in his basket in the bedroom and closed the door, flung up the blind to show on the littered table the newspapers Ned was reading to tatters, a heel of bread he had been eating and a cup tipped over with cold black tea swamping the dish of butter beside it.
She made an angry show of cleaning it up, embarrassed that George, in spite of an association of many years, might make a comparison between her housekeeping and Enidâs, and even irritated by George remaining standing with lowered head.
âSit down, George!â she said. Here was another exasperating man needing directing all the time! George sat and Ned went shuffling to the front room, tucking his papers under his arm, as if they were all that was worth salvaging.
âLet him burn himself and his wretched papers to a cinder there if he wants to!â Violet cried, throwing a dipperful of water into a kettle that had puffed itself dry.
She sat at the table overcome with rage, trembling and with both hands before her face.
George longed to but didnât dare reach out and touch her wrist.
âGeorge!â she said suddenly uncovering her face. âIâm going to open a hospital!â
George had the strange and foolish thought that she wanted somewhere to admit herself.
Or Ned?
Violet brought both hands down â slap! â upon the table and the heel of bread, overlooked in the clean up, bowled itself over. Question marks hung invisibly in the air between the two. âA hospital for midwifery cases, George,â Violet said.
Where? said Georgeâs round eyes, grey like well water unfit for drinking, but useful in emergencies.
He looked down the
The sulky purred along and so did George. The air was rushing past them clear and cold, making Small Henryâs face a deeper purple. Fresh air was good for him according to Violet, who told her mothers to get their babies out in the air for some time every day and not swaddle them too much or have them close enough to the fire to catch alight.
This thought reminded her of Ned. He might not be home though, out of the way in the bush somewhere and she could sit with George over the kitchen table in intimate talk. The news of her hospital was banked up there in her stout chest and Georgeâs red ear was close by, ready for a stream of words.
George was pacing Dolly out swiftly, not such a good idea in one way if he got to Albert Lane and found Ned at home. But he was dreaming of driving the Austin with the side curtains up and Violet beside him, the child somewhere else. He slapped Dolly into top speed, swaying the sulky as the Austin swayed so that Violet needed to put the arm not holding Small Henry along the back of the sulky seat and Georgeâs tingling back came in contact with her fingers.
âWell, the place hasnât burned down at least,â Violet said, although irritated at the difficulty of getting out of the sulky. She couldnât see the iron step past her skirt and might miss it.
You couldnât see down at all with this great bulk to hang onto! George leapt out and went around Dollyâs head (keep steady while this is on, you perverse old nag!) to help Violet down. She handed him Small Henry instead and his surprise was so great he nearly dropped him, looking up and down the street fearing someone would pop from a door or window and see him. Was he expected to go into the house and face Ned this way? But Violet, taking her time in hooking her bag onto her arm, hoisted Small Henry onto her own shoulder and George, turning hot then cold, was so confused he overlooked tying Dolly to a fence post, until Dolly took a warning step forward, suggesting he watch out for the consequences if she was a free agent.
Ned was in his corner of the kitchen couch, smoking and staring at the stove fire as if his one mission in life was to keep it going. Violet, having dumped Small Henry in his basket in the bedroom and closed the door, flung up the blind to show on the littered table the newspapers Ned was reading to tatters, a heel of bread he had been eating and a cup tipped over with cold black tea swamping the dish of butter beside it.
She made an angry show of cleaning it up, embarrassed that George, in spite of an association of many years, might make a comparison between her housekeeping and Enidâs, and even irritated by George remaining standing with lowered head.
âSit down, George!â she said. Here was another exasperating man needing directing all the time! George sat and Ned went shuffling to the front room, tucking his papers under his arm, as if they were all that was worth salvaging.
âLet him burn himself and his wretched papers to a cinder there if he wants to!â Violet cried, throwing a dipperful of water into a kettle that had puffed itself dry.
She sat at the table overcome with rage, trembling and with both hands before her face.
George longed to but didnât dare reach out and touch her wrist.
âGeorge!â she said suddenly uncovering her face. âIâm going to open a hospital!â
George had the strange and foolish thought that she wanted somewhere to admit herself.
Or Ned?
Violet brought both hands down â slap! â upon the table and the heel of bread, overlooked in the clean up, bowled itself over. Question marks hung invisibly in the air between the two. âA hospital for midwifery cases, George,â Violet said.
Where? said Georgeâs round eyes, grey like well water unfit for drinking, but useful in emergencies.
He looked down the
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