a column of militant women parading through the garden. It was a cause of continuing regret to her that she hadn’t been able to take an active part in the Women’s Suffrage movement. She switched into her rhetorical tone. ‘Marriage is pure slavery anyway. Look at your mother. Frustration, that’s her problem. Don’t think I don’t sympathize, because I do. Much too full of ideas to be married, that one.’
Suddenly she flagged, and sank back in the chair. ‘Where’s my book? You get out with your friends. I’ll be good, I promise.’
The others had moved down to kneel round the pond at the far end of the garden. They had a net and a bucket and were looking for tiddlers. Butterflies were slowly folding and unfolding their wings on the buddleia.
As I walked across the lawn, I saw Angus coming back in from next door carrying another net. There was a gate between our garden and the Harveys’ which enabled us to pass freely between them.
Angus was a tall, slim boy with a pale complexion and dark brown hair cut very short at the back but longer at the front so that it tumbled over his forehead. He had serious eyes and a more uncertain manner than William’s, whose body had a kind of physical arrogance about it. Like me, William had inherited a solid figure, but in him it was expressed in muscle: a brawny torso, thick, rugby-playing legs and a broad, freckled face topped by wavy fair hair. Angus was much lighter and more delicate looking, and dressed as ever in the careless Harvey way, in long baggy shorts and a buff-coloured shirt that looked a size or two too big.
William and I tolerated each other just about, but I always liked Angus better. William was self-confident, an achiever both in class and sports. Angus appeared less certain of himself and William often put him down.
‘Oh, come on,’ William would shout, exasperated, during a cricket game. ‘If you’re going to bowl at least put a bit of elbow into it. Even Katie could do better than that!’
And Angus would try harder, very seldom rising to William’s needling. It took me a long time to realize how much he minded it.
‘Is she all right?’ Angus asked. He sounded concerned, and I was grateful to him for being so and for not poking fun.
‘She’s had a cup of tea. I waited with her for a while.’
Angus nodded. ‘Poor thing. She’s missing Scotland I expect. My mother says she’s welcome to call round at our place any time, you know.’ He gave me his sudden smile which made his grey eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘We thought we’d go into the park. We were waiting for you.’
The gardens on our side of the road all shared their boundaries with a private park which had a lake in the middle.
As we neared the pond, Olivia looked up from where she was kneeling beside William on the rough slabs round the water.
‘About time!’ she called, jumping up. ‘Let’s go! There’s nothing to catch in here. Come on, William.’
To the equal astonishment of me and William, who was nearly sixteen and felt himself to be above our company nowadays, Olivia thrust her arms through each of ours and pulled us with her to the gate at the bottom of the garden. William strode along, apparently unable to resist but looking most uncomfortable.
We walked down the leafy path and round the still water of the lake to a shady spot from where you could look back up to the line of Chantry Road’s huge, ornate houses, their windows catching the light of the afternoon sun. Leaves rippled white, green, yellow. Moorhens and mallards slid over the surface of the lake. The boys started off with the nets. Olivia and I lay on our stomachs on the cool ground waiting for a turn and looking down into the dark water.
‘I look like the full moon,’ I sighed. My round face shuddered in the water’s surface. ‘Except the moon doesn’t wear specs.’ With her big dark eyes and long wavy hair Olivia looked like a wispy Ophelia in the water. ‘I wish I was pretty like
Suddenly she flagged, and sank back in the chair. ‘Where’s my book? You get out with your friends. I’ll be good, I promise.’
The others had moved down to kneel round the pond at the far end of the garden. They had a net and a bucket and were looking for tiddlers. Butterflies were slowly folding and unfolding their wings on the buddleia.
As I walked across the lawn, I saw Angus coming back in from next door carrying another net. There was a gate between our garden and the Harveys’ which enabled us to pass freely between them.
Angus was a tall, slim boy with a pale complexion and dark brown hair cut very short at the back but longer at the front so that it tumbled over his forehead. He had serious eyes and a more uncertain manner than William’s, whose body had a kind of physical arrogance about it. Like me, William had inherited a solid figure, but in him it was expressed in muscle: a brawny torso, thick, rugby-playing legs and a broad, freckled face topped by wavy fair hair. Angus was much lighter and more delicate looking, and dressed as ever in the careless Harvey way, in long baggy shorts and a buff-coloured shirt that looked a size or two too big.
William and I tolerated each other just about, but I always liked Angus better. William was self-confident, an achiever both in class and sports. Angus appeared less certain of himself and William often put him down.
‘Oh, come on,’ William would shout, exasperated, during a cricket game. ‘If you’re going to bowl at least put a bit of elbow into it. Even Katie could do better than that!’
And Angus would try harder, very seldom rising to William’s needling. It took me a long time to realize how much he minded it.
‘Is she all right?’ Angus asked. He sounded concerned, and I was grateful to him for being so and for not poking fun.
‘She’s had a cup of tea. I waited with her for a while.’
Angus nodded. ‘Poor thing. She’s missing Scotland I expect. My mother says she’s welcome to call round at our place any time, you know.’ He gave me his sudden smile which made his grey eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘We thought we’d go into the park. We were waiting for you.’
The gardens on our side of the road all shared their boundaries with a private park which had a lake in the middle.
As we neared the pond, Olivia looked up from where she was kneeling beside William on the rough slabs round the water.
‘About time!’ she called, jumping up. ‘Let’s go! There’s nothing to catch in here. Come on, William.’
To the equal astonishment of me and William, who was nearly sixteen and felt himself to be above our company nowadays, Olivia thrust her arms through each of ours and pulled us with her to the gate at the bottom of the garden. William strode along, apparently unable to resist but looking most uncomfortable.
We walked down the leafy path and round the still water of the lake to a shady spot from where you could look back up to the line of Chantry Road’s huge, ornate houses, their windows catching the light of the afternoon sun. Leaves rippled white, green, yellow. Moorhens and mallards slid over the surface of the lake. The boys started off with the nets. Olivia and I lay on our stomachs on the cool ground waiting for a turn and looking down into the dark water.
‘I look like the full moon,’ I sighed. My round face shuddered in the water’s surface. ‘Except the moon doesn’t wear specs.’ With her big dark eyes and long wavy hair Olivia looked like a wispy Ophelia in the water. ‘I wish I was pretty like
Similar Books
