you, Livy.’
Olivia smiled. She could be a minx when attacked but when I made a comment like that it brought out her better nature. ‘You’ve got a lovely face. All sort of big and generous.’ She called out to the boys, ‘Come on – let us have a turn now, won’t you?’
I took one of the long-handled nets and dipped it into the water. It came up containing nothing more than a coating of green slime.
‘Try again.’ I found Angus at my shoulder. He watched seriously as I dipped in the net and on the fourth attempt brought it up with something tiny flapping in the bottom amid the leaves and weed. Carefully we turned the net out into the enamel bucket. I saw the deft, precise movements of Angus’s slim fingers. Heads together, we watched the tiny, almost transparent creature struggle into the water.
‘We shall let it go, shan’t we?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes – it’d be cruel not to.’
For a second I became aware of Olivia watching us, her brown eyes puzzled. Suddenly she twirled round, floral skirt dancing about her legs, and skipped over to William.
‘William, will you help me? I can’t seem to catch anything either.’
William picked up his bucket looking surprised, walked over to Olivia and squatted down, his thick legs bent up on each side of the pail. Olivia inclined towards him as if she had a secret to tell him, and William, startled, jumped back and overbalanced, sitting down suddenly.
Olivia let out peals of giggles. ‘What are you doing?’ she cried. ‘Here – let me pull you up.’
‘I can get up myself,’ William said crossly, with a flushed face.
She kept on at him all that afternoon: ‘William, will you help me? William, walk with me. Will you carry my bucket?’ I couldn’t understand this sudden attention paid to him, nor his passive response to her clamouring. If I’d carried on like that I was quite sure he’d have told me to leave off. Finally he did say gently to her, ‘Can you leave me alone for a bit now, Livy, eh?’
Pouting slightly, Olivia stepped over to me.
‘William’s being rather mean.’ She turned her head to look at him over one shoulder, coquettishly, strands of her chestnut hair half covering her face.
‘Just leave him alone for a while,’ I replied, carefully moving my net through the water. ‘Anyone’d think you’ve got ants in your pants this afternoon.’
I was so absorbed in helping Angus to release some more tiny fish into the bucket that it was some time before I noticed Olivia was crying.
‘Hey, what on earth’s the matter?’ I flung an arm round her slim shoulders, but she wriggled uneasily.
‘Come over here,’ Olivia said. She seemed all twitchy and strange. We left the boys and walked back up slowly under the trees towards the garden.
‘I feel so peculiar,’ Olivia sniffed. ‘It’s – Katie, I got my – you know – today.’
I turned to her, baffled.
‘My – when you become a woman.’ Olivia seemed to have to wring the words out of herself.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Gosh. I see. Your periods.’ Thanks to Granny Munro I knew all about those. ‘Bad luck. Is it making you feel rotten then?’
‘No. My tummy hurts a bit. It’s sort of gripy, down here.’ She laid a hand on the lower part of her stomach. ‘But it’s not that. I feel awfully queer. I’ve never felt like this before. As if I want something very badly but I don’t know what it is.’
‘Oh,’ I said again. I hadn’t the remotest idea what Livy was talking about.
‘And when I told Mummy about it, she got all cross and then started crying. It’s made me feel awful.’
I was astonished. Hoping to cheer Livy up, I said, ‘Never mind. Let’s go in and have some tea before you have to go. Mrs Drysdale’s made shortbread and there’s chocolate cake.’
Olivia burst into tears all over again.
‘What’s up now?’ I cried.
‘I don’t know.’ She was wiping her face with her hanky. ‘It’s just how I feel.’
When we got inside, Mummy seemed
Olivia smiled. She could be a minx when attacked but when I made a comment like that it brought out her better nature. ‘You’ve got a lovely face. All sort of big and generous.’ She called out to the boys, ‘Come on – let us have a turn now, won’t you?’
I took one of the long-handled nets and dipped it into the water. It came up containing nothing more than a coating of green slime.
‘Try again.’ I found Angus at my shoulder. He watched seriously as I dipped in the net and on the fourth attempt brought it up with something tiny flapping in the bottom amid the leaves and weed. Carefully we turned the net out into the enamel bucket. I saw the deft, precise movements of Angus’s slim fingers. Heads together, we watched the tiny, almost transparent creature struggle into the water.
‘We shall let it go, shan’t we?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes – it’d be cruel not to.’
For a second I became aware of Olivia watching us, her brown eyes puzzled. Suddenly she twirled round, floral skirt dancing about her legs, and skipped over to William.
‘William, will you help me? I can’t seem to catch anything either.’
William picked up his bucket looking surprised, walked over to Olivia and squatted down, his thick legs bent up on each side of the pail. Olivia inclined towards him as if she had a secret to tell him, and William, startled, jumped back and overbalanced, sitting down suddenly.
Olivia let out peals of giggles. ‘What are you doing?’ she cried. ‘Here – let me pull you up.’
‘I can get up myself,’ William said crossly, with a flushed face.
She kept on at him all that afternoon: ‘William, will you help me? William, walk with me. Will you carry my bucket?’ I couldn’t understand this sudden attention paid to him, nor his passive response to her clamouring. If I’d carried on like that I was quite sure he’d have told me to leave off. Finally he did say gently to her, ‘Can you leave me alone for a bit now, Livy, eh?’
Pouting slightly, Olivia stepped over to me.
‘William’s being rather mean.’ She turned her head to look at him over one shoulder, coquettishly, strands of her chestnut hair half covering her face.
‘Just leave him alone for a while,’ I replied, carefully moving my net through the water. ‘Anyone’d think you’ve got ants in your pants this afternoon.’
I was so absorbed in helping Angus to release some more tiny fish into the bucket that it was some time before I noticed Olivia was crying.
‘Hey, what on earth’s the matter?’ I flung an arm round her slim shoulders, but she wriggled uneasily.
‘Come over here,’ Olivia said. She seemed all twitchy and strange. We left the boys and walked back up slowly under the trees towards the garden.
‘I feel so peculiar,’ Olivia sniffed. ‘It’s – Katie, I got my – you know – today.’
I turned to her, baffled.
‘My – when you become a woman.’ Olivia seemed to have to wring the words out of herself.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Gosh. I see. Your periods.’ Thanks to Granny Munro I knew all about those. ‘Bad luck. Is it making you feel rotten then?’
‘No. My tummy hurts a bit. It’s sort of gripy, down here.’ She laid a hand on the lower part of her stomach. ‘But it’s not that. I feel awfully queer. I’ve never felt like this before. As if I want something very badly but I don’t know what it is.’
‘Oh,’ I said again. I hadn’t the remotest idea what Livy was talking about.
‘And when I told Mummy about it, she got all cross and then started crying. It’s made me feel awful.’
I was astonished. Hoping to cheer Livy up, I said, ‘Never mind. Let’s go in and have some tea before you have to go. Mrs Drysdale’s made shortbread and there’s chocolate cake.’
Olivia burst into tears all over again.
‘What’s up now?’ I cried.
‘I don’t know.’ She was wiping her face with her hanky. ‘It’s just how I feel.’
When we got inside, Mummy seemed
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