Read Online Woman of the House by Alice; Taylor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alice; Taylor
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Peter protested.
“I know,” Nora said agreeably, “but it’s grand the way it’s all huddled into the trees so that you can’t see it from the road, and when you look out the front windows you can see down over Nolans’ fields away down to the village.
“Well, I never heard such a palaver about an old house,” Peter said. “Our house, because it’s lower down, is more sheltered.”
“That’s what Dada says,” Nora remarked.
“Norry, you’ll have to get used to saying ‘Dada said’, because Dad isn’t here anymore,” Peter said, biting his lip.
“But Pete,” she protested, “sometimes I forget and I expect him to come out the stable door or to be sitting on his chair by the fire. Part of me knows that he is gone, but another part of me keeps forgetting because he was always here,” she said.
“We better not start talking about Dad because we can’t cry today,” Peter decided.
He bolted the farm gate behind them and they walked back the road away from the cottage, both silently preparing themselves for the day ahead. When they came to Sarah Jones’s gate they saw the small neat woman with grey cropped hair out in the acre feeding the hens. She put down her bucket and, wiping her hands on her apron, she came towards them smiling.
“I’d rather she’d let us pass and not be delaying us,” Peter muttered under his breath.
“Shush,” Nora whispered.
“Good to see you on the road again,” Sarah smiled, putting her hand into her pocket and drawing out two sticks of barley sugar. Peter’s face broke into a smile of appreciation and Nora, standing on tiptoe, kissed her gratefully.
As they walked away from her gate Nora grinned at Peter. “Now are you sorry that she stopped us?”
“She’s not a bad old sort,” he admitted.
“Jack told me that she laid Dada out.”
“Nora, we’re not going to talk about Dad this morning.”
Then they rounded the first bend of the road and saw two figures trudging just ahead of them.
“The Nolans,” Nora said with relief. It would be good to have Rosie beside her facing back into school.
“Yoo-hoo,” Peter shouted after them as they ran to catch up. The two Nolans waited with smiles of welcome on their faces. Rosie was solid and serene with heavy blonde hair down to her waist, while her brother Jeremy was gangling with a short unruly thatch over a cheery, freckled face. Rosie was Nora’s best friend and the only one to whom she had confided about the horror of the white worm. In the play yard her ample presence had often shielded Nora from further threats. If only she was sitting beside Rosie in school, life would be so much easier.
“We missed the two of you,” Rosie said simply, and Nora smiled in gratitude because she wanted to feel that her school world was waiting for her. But even that world was darkened by the threat of the white worm. She did not like Miss Buckley either, but then nobody liked Miss Buckley. She knew that she had said something to Miss Buckley the night of the accident, but she could not remember exactly what it was because those days were all mixed up in her mind like bits of a broken jug that would not fit together.
The two boys forged ahead and Nora cracked her stick of barley sugar in half and gave it to Rosie, who looked at her with concern.
“Your face is as white as whitewash,” she said, but added comfortingly, “You’ll get better. My mother says that when things are bad they can only get better.”
“Hope so,” Nora said a bit forlornly.
“They will,” Rosie told her reassuringly, sucking her stick of barley sugar. That was one of the nice things about Rosie, she could always see the good side of things, and she was full of all kinds of exciting news.
“Wait until I tell you about the big fight Jeremy had with Rory Conway while you were missing,” she began.
Rosie chatted on non-stop and Nora was happy just to listen. The last couple of weeks had been a time of subdued whispering, so now
“I know,” Nora said agreeably, “but it’s grand the way it’s all huddled into the trees so that you can’t see it from the road, and when you look out the front windows you can see down over Nolans’ fields away down to the village.
“Well, I never heard such a palaver about an old house,” Peter said. “Our house, because it’s lower down, is more sheltered.”
“That’s what Dada says,” Nora remarked.
“Norry, you’ll have to get used to saying ‘Dada said’, because Dad isn’t here anymore,” Peter said, biting his lip.
“But Pete,” she protested, “sometimes I forget and I expect him to come out the stable door or to be sitting on his chair by the fire. Part of me knows that he is gone, but another part of me keeps forgetting because he was always here,” she said.
“We better not start talking about Dad because we can’t cry today,” Peter decided.
He bolted the farm gate behind them and they walked back the road away from the cottage, both silently preparing themselves for the day ahead. When they came to Sarah Jones’s gate they saw the small neat woman with grey cropped hair out in the acre feeding the hens. She put down her bucket and, wiping her hands on her apron, she came towards them smiling.
“I’d rather she’d let us pass and not be delaying us,” Peter muttered under his breath.
“Shush,” Nora whispered.
“Good to see you on the road again,” Sarah smiled, putting her hand into her pocket and drawing out two sticks of barley sugar. Peter’s face broke into a smile of appreciation and Nora, standing on tiptoe, kissed her gratefully.
As they walked away from her gate Nora grinned at Peter. “Now are you sorry that she stopped us?”
“She’s not a bad old sort,” he admitted.
“Jack told me that she laid Dada out.”
“Nora, we’re not going to talk about Dad this morning.”
Then they rounded the first bend of the road and saw two figures trudging just ahead of them.
“The Nolans,” Nora said with relief. It would be good to have Rosie beside her facing back into school.
“Yoo-hoo,” Peter shouted after them as they ran to catch up. The two Nolans waited with smiles of welcome on their faces. Rosie was solid and serene with heavy blonde hair down to her waist, while her brother Jeremy was gangling with a short unruly thatch over a cheery, freckled face. Rosie was Nora’s best friend and the only one to whom she had confided about the horror of the white worm. In the play yard her ample presence had often shielded Nora from further threats. If only she was sitting beside Rosie in school, life would be so much easier.
“We missed the two of you,” Rosie said simply, and Nora smiled in gratitude because she wanted to feel that her school world was waiting for her. But even that world was darkened by the threat of the white worm. She did not like Miss Buckley either, but then nobody liked Miss Buckley. She knew that she had said something to Miss Buckley the night of the accident, but she could not remember exactly what it was because those days were all mixed up in her mind like bits of a broken jug that would not fit together.
The two boys forged ahead and Nora cracked her stick of barley sugar in half and gave it to Rosie, who looked at her with concern.
“Your face is as white as whitewash,” she said, but added comfortingly, “You’ll get better. My mother says that when things are bad they can only get better.”
“Hope so,” Nora said a bit forlornly.
“They will,” Rosie told her reassuringly, sucking her stick of barley sugar. That was one of the nice things about Rosie, she could always see the good side of things, and she was full of all kinds of exciting news.
“Wait until I tell you about the big fight Jeremy had with Rory Conway while you were missing,” she began.
Rosie chatted on non-stop and Nora was happy just to listen. The last couple of weeks had been a time of subdued whispering, so now
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