Chapters (27)
- Cover
- Susan ScarlettSummer Pudding
- INTRODUCTION
- Section 1
- Section 2
- Section 3
- Section 4
- Section 5
- Section 6
- Section 7
- Section 8
- Section 9
- Section 10
- Section 11
- Section 12
- Section 13
- Section 14
- Section 15
- Section 16
- Section 17
- Section 18
- Section 19
- Section 20
- Section 21
- About The Author
- Adult Fiction by Noel Streatfeild
- FURROWED MIDDLEBROW
Iris, flushed and swollen, was lying on her face amongst her tangled and crumpled sheets. Gladys was sitting by her and Donald leaning over the end of the bed. Janet peered round the door.
“Iris is a naughty girl,” Gladys explained in a loud voice intended to carry over Iris’ sobs. “She’s been having one of her tempers.”
Donald gave Janet a grateful nod. He came to the door and drew her back into the passage.
“She’s had some row with Gladys, I think. She asked for you. See if you can do anything with her. I rang the doctor and he said he’d come up if you didn’t soothe her.”
“Is she often like this?”
“If she gets in a state it’s difficult to get her out of it. Anna was given to something of the same sort.” They came back into the bedroom. Donald laid a hand on Iris’ heaving shoulders.
“Here’s Janet, old lady.”
Iris raised her head, then sprang up and held out her arms.
“Janet! Janet! Janet! Gladsayougoawaybutyouwon’twill-you!” Janet sat down on the bed and took Iris in her arms.
“I can’t hear a word if you make a noise like that.” She glanced at Donald. “Do you think we could be left to our heart-to-heart?” She waited until the door was shut and then said firmly, “Now tell me slowly what this hullabaloo is about.”
Iris struggled with her sobs, and gradually, in a broken, hiccoughing way, she told her story.
“It was when I was going to bed, I said to Gladys I did hope I could get up tomorrow to do lessons with the things you’d bought, and she said she thought you wouldn’t buy many because you were going away . . .”
Janet waited for the spasm of crying to stop.
“Going where?”
“To be a sailor for the war.”
Janet could not remember telling Gladys of her W.R.N.S. ambitions, but the news had no doubt travelled.
“I did mean to be a sailor, but that was before I met you, and the reason I can’t go is because I have to look after my mother.”
“But if you look after her you won’t come here any more.”
“Oh, yes, I will! As a matter of fact, I was going to talk to you about it in the morning. Now I’m going to wash your face and settle you for the night, and while I do it I’m going to tell you the plan I’m working out to teach you, as well as do the work at home. It’s very important you should know all about it because I want you to help me.”