Read Online The Dress (Everyday Magic Trilogy: Book 1) by Sophie Nicholls - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sophie Nicholls
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pulled back the curtain, he crouched on his haunches at the side of her bed in a not-very-doctor-ish way and his face up close was smooth and clean-shaven, with a firm chin and eyes as twinkly as Billy’s.
‘Now then, young lady,’ he said. ‘What’ve you been up to?’
‘May I, senorita ?’ he asked, before placing his stethoscope inside her nightdress, as if he were asking her for a waltz around the bedroom. Not very doctor-like at all.
‘Tonsillitis,’ he pronounced. ‘Antibiotics. Necessary for this type of infection, I’m afraid.’
Through a haze of pain, Ella saw Mamma smoothing her dress over her hips, heard her offering the doctor a cup of coffee. She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the luminous hands of her Betty Boop alarm clock, one of Mamma’s more irritating eBay finds, pointed to half past midnight. She heard footsteps on the stairs and Mamma humming that little tune of hers under her breath. She closed her eyes again and felt the press of the cool flannel on her forehead.
A little while after that, she heard the clink of glasses in the kitchen sink, then bare feet padding across the hallway and the swish and rustle as Mamma undressed in the dark, sliding herself into her own bed on the other side of the curtain.
‘Mamma…’ she tried to whisper but her mouth made no sound and she floated on a flotsam of feathers.
*
Funny, Ella thought, how your body could be doing one thing – buttering a slice of toast or listening to Mrs Cossington explain that the earth’s core is made of molten magma – when your mind was somewhere else entirely.
And it was at times like this that The Signals would arrive, flying into her head like a flock of angry birds, all red beaks and green wings, like nothing she’d ever seen before - not with her ordinary eyes, anyway.
What did she mean by that, with her ordinary eyes? She didn’t know, exactly. It was just that she had no idea where these images came from or how they got there, inside her mind. It was as if she were pressing up against the outside of her body and she could feel the air against her skin beginning to change its colour and texture.
She noticed that it always happened before something went wrong or when someone was angry or upset or just when she was sitting in a big group of people, like in assemblies.
She’d asked Mamma about it again just the other day, the strange swirling colours, the feelings.
‘That’s right,’ Mamma had said, in a matter-of-fact way, ‘The Signals. Nothing to be afraid of, Ellissima. They can come in very handy.’
But there were so many other questions Ella wanted to ask. Would they start coming more and more often? And how was it that she seemed to be able to tune in to other people’s thoughts sometimes? Was she supposed to do that?
But Mamma was always so busy these days, with one of her customers or Dr Carter.
She’d noticed that The Signals happened in particular around her new friend, Katrina Cushworth. Because flippin’ Norah, here was the Big News. Ella finally had a new friend and the friend was even female.
Katrina Cushworth had blonde hair, one blue eye and one brown. And flippin’ Norah was something she would say. She’d been telling everyone that she and Ella were Inseparable. That was the word she used to her mother, who was Mrs Jean Cushworth, a Very Important Person in this city.
Snooty old cow, said Billy, and her stuck-up daughter too.
When Billy had come up to them in the playground today, Katrina had sighed loudly and said, ‘That Billy thinks he owns you, like a bag of bloomin’ marbles or a library book. Look at him, all soppy on you, the big daft thing.’
And another time she’d said, ‘He can’t put you in his pocket like a prize conker, you know. And anyway, everyone says he’s Trouble.’
When Katrina said anything, it always seemed to begin with a Capital Letter.
Katrina Cushworth lived off The Mount in one of the biggest houses in the city.
‘Now then, young lady,’ he said. ‘What’ve you been up to?’
‘May I, senorita ?’ he asked, before placing his stethoscope inside her nightdress, as if he were asking her for a waltz around the bedroom. Not very doctor-like at all.
‘Tonsillitis,’ he pronounced. ‘Antibiotics. Necessary for this type of infection, I’m afraid.’
Through a haze of pain, Ella saw Mamma smoothing her dress over her hips, heard her offering the doctor a cup of coffee. She closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the luminous hands of her Betty Boop alarm clock, one of Mamma’s more irritating eBay finds, pointed to half past midnight. She heard footsteps on the stairs and Mamma humming that little tune of hers under her breath. She closed her eyes again and felt the press of the cool flannel on her forehead.
A little while after that, she heard the clink of glasses in the kitchen sink, then bare feet padding across the hallway and the swish and rustle as Mamma undressed in the dark, sliding herself into her own bed on the other side of the curtain.
‘Mamma…’ she tried to whisper but her mouth made no sound and she floated on a flotsam of feathers.
*
Funny, Ella thought, how your body could be doing one thing – buttering a slice of toast or listening to Mrs Cossington explain that the earth’s core is made of molten magma – when your mind was somewhere else entirely.
And it was at times like this that The Signals would arrive, flying into her head like a flock of angry birds, all red beaks and green wings, like nothing she’d ever seen before - not with her ordinary eyes, anyway.
What did she mean by that, with her ordinary eyes? She didn’t know, exactly. It was just that she had no idea where these images came from or how they got there, inside her mind. It was as if she were pressing up against the outside of her body and she could feel the air against her skin beginning to change its colour and texture.
She noticed that it always happened before something went wrong or when someone was angry or upset or just when she was sitting in a big group of people, like in assemblies.
She’d asked Mamma about it again just the other day, the strange swirling colours, the feelings.
‘That’s right,’ Mamma had said, in a matter-of-fact way, ‘The Signals. Nothing to be afraid of, Ellissima. They can come in very handy.’
But there were so many other questions Ella wanted to ask. Would they start coming more and more often? And how was it that she seemed to be able to tune in to other people’s thoughts sometimes? Was she supposed to do that?
But Mamma was always so busy these days, with one of her customers or Dr Carter.
She’d noticed that The Signals happened in particular around her new friend, Katrina Cushworth. Because flippin’ Norah, here was the Big News. Ella finally had a new friend and the friend was even female.
Katrina Cushworth had blonde hair, one blue eye and one brown. And flippin’ Norah was something she would say. She’d been telling everyone that she and Ella were Inseparable. That was the word she used to her mother, who was Mrs Jean Cushworth, a Very Important Person in this city.
Snooty old cow, said Billy, and her stuck-up daughter too.
When Billy had come up to them in the playground today, Katrina had sighed loudly and said, ‘That Billy thinks he owns you, like a bag of bloomin’ marbles or a library book. Look at him, all soppy on you, the big daft thing.’
And another time she’d said, ‘He can’t put you in his pocket like a prize conker, you know. And anyway, everyone says he’s Trouble.’
When Katrina said anything, it always seemed to begin with a Capital Letter.
Katrina Cushworth lived off The Mount in one of the biggest houses in the city.
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