Read Online Mulch Ado About Nothing by Jill Churchill - Free Book Online
Authors: Jill Churchill
Tags: det_irony
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shoulder, bobbing her head in a half-nodding, half-bowing manner.
“I'll walk about a bit, thank you," Jane said with the same formal tone.
She got her crutches lined up and started out to follow Shelley around. Sensing movement behind her, she turned slightly. The boy was stooping along behind her and brushing up the round dents her crutches made in the grass.
“I'm so sorry," Jane said, "but I'm afraid to walk on the round stones."
“No problem, miss," he said. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable sitting in the shade, however.”
Jane reconsidered and took his advice. His grandmother rushed inside and got a very pretty embroidered pillow to put behind her back as she sat down on a teak bench. "Thank you so much," Jane said, and couldn't resist a little pleasant head bobbing in return.
The rest of the class followed quickly and all of them walked obediently along the stone paths, examining small sculptures and little mounds of subtly shaded flowers. Lavender and pale blue and light yellow mounds with perfect foliage. From Jane's vantage point she couldn't tell what they were.
“It's a very pretty yard, Joe. Do you help take care of it?"
“ Yes, miss."
“You do a very good job."
“Thank you, miss.”
Polite conversations with polite children were hard on Jane. She gazed about, murmuring things like, "Oh, how pretty the paths are" and "Isn't that a lovely flowering bush?”
The garden was too perfect for her taste. There wasn't a thing wrong with it except its exactitude. Everything was precisely round, or oblong, or gently curved with great precision. There didn't appear to be a weed anywhere or a blade of grass out of place. Or a single object misplaced by an inch. It was soothingly bland. Nothing to excite or disturb the senses. She wondered whether this represented Dr. Eastman's taste or that of the housekeeper and her grandson.
Shelley and Miss Winstead wandered over to where Jane was sitting, and the housekeeper provided them with pillows as well. Her bobbing presence was daunting, but once the two chairs and bench were filled with sitters, she backed away and disappeared into the house. A moment later, she reappeared with an armload of fragile-looking folding chairs for the rest of the guests.
Joe was following Dr. Eastman and Stefan Eckert as they approached the tall, dense pines. Eastman pulled down a branch and was apparently telling Eckert something about it. Ursula was on her own, bending over to smell every clump of flowers. She was the only one with the nerve or insensitivity to actually touch any of the plants or ornaments. Arnold Waring was also on his own. Jane hadn't realized how barrel-chested the older man was until she saw him moving about. He carefully studied each area of the yard, as if mapping it in his mind.
When he got near Ursula, she all but grabbed him by the lapels to pontificate about something. He nodded several times and eased himself away from her, but she pursued him, still talking. Finally, in desperation, he simply turned his back on her and walked away.
Geneva Jackson, who hadn't been in the class this morning, had joined the group now, and she and the cardboard-stiff Charles Jones were chatting over a Hindu-type sitting stone figure.
“Julie Jackson must be getting better," Shelley said, "or Geneva wouldn't be here. I'll have a word with her.”
Left alone with Miss Winstead, Jane asked, "How long have you known Dr. Eastman?"
“Since a year before he married my cousin Edwina."
“Oh, you're related then."
“Barely, I'm glad to say.”
Jane was fascinated by these mysterious hints. "Miss Winstead, Shelley and I were talking about going to a late lunch together after the tour. Would you like to join us?"
“That would be lovely. You two young women seem to be old friends."
“We've lived next door to each other for twenty years.
“That surprises me. Someone told me you grew up in a diplomat's family. I thought you'd be used to moving from place to
“I'll walk about a bit, thank you," Jane said with the same formal tone.
She got her crutches lined up and started out to follow Shelley around. Sensing movement behind her, she turned slightly. The boy was stooping along behind her and brushing up the round dents her crutches made in the grass.
“I'm so sorry," Jane said, "but I'm afraid to walk on the round stones."
“No problem, miss," he said. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable sitting in the shade, however.”
Jane reconsidered and took his advice. His grandmother rushed inside and got a very pretty embroidered pillow to put behind her back as she sat down on a teak bench. "Thank you so much," Jane said, and couldn't resist a little pleasant head bobbing in return.
The rest of the class followed quickly and all of them walked obediently along the stone paths, examining small sculptures and little mounds of subtly shaded flowers. Lavender and pale blue and light yellow mounds with perfect foliage. From Jane's vantage point she couldn't tell what they were.
“It's a very pretty yard, Joe. Do you help take care of it?"
“ Yes, miss."
“You do a very good job."
“Thank you, miss.”
Polite conversations with polite children were hard on Jane. She gazed about, murmuring things like, "Oh, how pretty the paths are" and "Isn't that a lovely flowering bush?”
The garden was too perfect for her taste. There wasn't a thing wrong with it except its exactitude. Everything was precisely round, or oblong, or gently curved with great precision. There didn't appear to be a weed anywhere or a blade of grass out of place. Or a single object misplaced by an inch. It was soothingly bland. Nothing to excite or disturb the senses. She wondered whether this represented Dr. Eastman's taste or that of the housekeeper and her grandson.
Shelley and Miss Winstead wandered over to where Jane was sitting, and the housekeeper provided them with pillows as well. Her bobbing presence was daunting, but once the two chairs and bench were filled with sitters, she backed away and disappeared into the house. A moment later, she reappeared with an armload of fragile-looking folding chairs for the rest of the guests.
Joe was following Dr. Eastman and Stefan Eckert as they approached the tall, dense pines. Eastman pulled down a branch and was apparently telling Eckert something about it. Ursula was on her own, bending over to smell every clump of flowers. She was the only one with the nerve or insensitivity to actually touch any of the plants or ornaments. Arnold Waring was also on his own. Jane hadn't realized how barrel-chested the older man was until she saw him moving about. He carefully studied each area of the yard, as if mapping it in his mind.
When he got near Ursula, she all but grabbed him by the lapels to pontificate about something. He nodded several times and eased himself away from her, but she pursued him, still talking. Finally, in desperation, he simply turned his back on her and walked away.
Geneva Jackson, who hadn't been in the class this morning, had joined the group now, and she and the cardboard-stiff Charles Jones were chatting over a Hindu-type sitting stone figure.
“Julie Jackson must be getting better," Shelley said, "or Geneva wouldn't be here. I'll have a word with her.”
Left alone with Miss Winstead, Jane asked, "How long have you known Dr. Eastman?"
“Since a year before he married my cousin Edwina."
“Oh, you're related then."
“Barely, I'm glad to say.”
Jane was fascinated by these mysterious hints. "Miss Winstead, Shelley and I were talking about going to a late lunch together after the tour. Would you like to join us?"
“That would be lovely. You two young women seem to be old friends."
“We've lived next door to each other for twenty years.
“That surprises me. Someone told me you grew up in a diplomat's family. I thought you'd be used to moving from place to
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