Read Online Rosemary Aitken by Flowers for Miss Pengelly - Free Book Online Page B

carefully put up in rags last night (though the torment always stopped her sleeping properly) was being blown out of its artful curls and into rats’ tails by the rising wind. And then she’d be expected to tramp about for miles on what Bert always called his ‘favourite walk’.
    Drat the fellow! Why couldn’t he take her to the pictures for a change? There was a film of Valentino showing in the town. She would have loved to see it – she’d been dropping hints – but it never even seemed to cross his mind. Course it cost money, that was probably the thing, but all the same! Bert must be earning ten and six a week, though he worked for his father, so perhaps he kept him short. Still, they could have gone into the tuppennies – surely to goodness it wouldn’t hurt for once! But no, it was Mount Misery and the walk as usual. And even then he hadn’t met the bus. Why could he never be anywhere on time?
    She frowned and stood back in the shelter of the trees, huddling her best green hooded cape around her. She should have worn the brown one, it was far warmer, but it was getting old and she’d had to mend one corner where she’d caught it on a twig. She could hardly wear it when she was walking out with Bert. Still, he’d kept her waiting. Serve him right if she had turned up in that!
    The sound of a footfall on the path disturbed her thoughts and she stepped forward, ready with a smile. ‘Oh, there you are . . .’ She tailed off in surprise. ‘My dear life! Effie Pengelly! If it isn’t you!’
    Effie was looking at her in what looked like mild dismay, as if she wasn’t especially pleased to find her standing there. ‘Well, I never! Lettie! Fancy seeing you.’ Her face had turned an alarming shade of red.
    Lettie wasn’t stupid. She realized what it was. Effie was still ashamed about the books. They’d never really spoken since that awful day, though she had lingered at the Westons’ library once or twice. The only time that their paths had crossed in town there’d been a quick, ‘Hello, how are you?’ and Effie had hastened by, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere else. Lettie said carefully, ‘And a sight for sore eyes you are. Sorry that I haven’t seen you at the Westons’ all these weeks. I’ve missed our little chats.’
    Effie turned more scarlet still, if that were possible. It gave her face a colour which was flattering. She was wearing blue – a thick shawl and heavy skirt which did nothing for her shape but of a shade which drew attention to her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she was murmuring, ‘I haven’t stopped to wait. After that policeman gave me such a shock, I didn’t want to . . .’
    Lettie nodded. ‘Course, I understand. We would have had to stop that business soon in any case – if we’d gone on much longer they were sure to catch us out.’ She was aware that this wasn’t what she had said before – she’d always told Effie it was as safe as possible – but obviously things were rather different now. ‘Clever of you to get that book back on the shelves that day.’
    Effie looked first startled, then relieved. ‘You saw it then? I haven’t seen it since. I’d begun to wonder what had happened to the dratted thing!’
    Lettie laughed. ‘Saw it? I should think I did! I managed to take it out again – by accident. But Miss Blanche didn’t tumble to it, even then.’
    Effie had put on a determined face. ‘I aren’t doing it again, though, Lettie. Too dangerous, by half.’
    ‘Aren’t doing what?’ a voice behind them said, and there was Bert at last – looking a picture in his second-best Sunday suit, a bit too short and tight for him these days, and a little shiny round the cuffs and trouser-seat, but a proper suit for all that. He had a scarf and hat on and his boots were fairly clean – though he hadn’t brought his cycle and he must have walked for miles. Nice-looking as ever and grinning at them in that cheeky way of his. Lettie felt proud of him. She