Read Online The Mystery of the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks - Free Book Online

mischief always come.
    There came a great day for England, in November 1918. Armistice Day! The Great War was over. Everyone was rejoicing! And there was to be a parade, through the streets of London.
    The devil that had hold of me made me bold and reckless. I had a picture in my mind, of myself like royalty, wearing my theatrical finery - all feathers and furbelows and my boldest stage dress, bright red satin trimmed with black braid — riding my own horse out there in front of the parade!
    Well, I had no horse, but that didn’t stop me. I hired one. Yes, I did! I rifled my savings and hired the tallest (and gentlest!) horse the West End Livery Stables had on offer. I told the groom to deck him out in all his brasses, andribbons in red, white, and blue, and polish his bridle and sidesaddle till they gleamed, and bring him to the starting place. This was to be my moment - my day as it was England’s - and I meant to make the most of it!
    And then quite suddenly, I thought what would make it all complete. I thought of Lottie!
    On the crest of my wave, I took a cab to Maria’s. The streets of London were choked with people and traffic — the noise of horns blaring and music and cheering were deafening. But I got through, and crossed the river to Clapham. I beat on her door, and the maid, Millie, let me into the hall. And Matthew came, and Maria. They looked astonished to see me standing there in all my finery.
    â€œI’m going to ride in the parade!” I gasped out. And then I told them what I wanted.
I wanted Lottie to ride with me —
up in front of me on the horse, at the head of the parade!
    Maria was horrified. “But it would be dangerous! What if she fell? All those people — she’d be trampled—”
    â€œShe won’t fall,” I said. “I promise you! Maria, let her do it! It’s something she’ll never forget — the end of this terrible war — a day of triumph and joy! Don’t make her watch it all tamely from a pavement - let her be part of it!”
    â€œBut Jessie, she’s not even eight years old! What will people think?”
    I thought I’d lost. But suddenly to my astonishment, Matthew stepped in.
    â€œYes!” he said.
    I’ll never forget it! The way he spoke — what a man! Such a ringing tone of audacious decision!
    â€œYes, Maria! We’ll allow this. The occasion is unique and we must rise to it! Indeed it is something she will remember all her life. And we will go and watch our little daughter on her Victory Ride.”
    You, reader of the future, mark me. My sister was not defeated yet. She turned to her husband and said, “But in that big crowd, there may be people who will recognize Jessie — people who
know.”
And she looked sideways at me, her black-sheep sister.
    And Matthew looked at me with fresh eyes, with Maria’s eyes, with the eyes of respectable society, and after a long moment he pronounced sentence on me.
    â€œIt will not matter just for today, what people see or what they think. Because this is the last time your sister and Lottie will be together.”
    It was the doom Maria had warned me of, two years before. The time for separating my darling from me for ever had come.
    I said nothing, but I know I was white to the lips. I stood there in frozen silence and they hurried to fetch Lottie and get her ready. She appeared all in a rush, wearing a fine little riding habit (she was already taking lessons so that she could ride out on Rotten Row in Hyde Park) and clutching a miniature riding crop in her gloved hand, her bowler hat perched on her pretty head, her face flushed with excitement.
    â€œIs it true, Aunt Jessie? Are you really going to let me ride with you in the parade?”
    I crouched before her.
    â€œYes, darling. There is no one in the world I would rather celebrate victory with than you.” But my heart and my pure love for her were muddled with fury because