friend, though, aren’t I? You can’t go on pretending you don’t like him whilst you really do.”
I didn’t answer, and I guess in a way that was an answer in itself. Instead I pointed at the ancient, arthritic fingers of wood curling around the arbors leading to her home, Hill House. “Have you noticed that the wisterias are starting to bloom, and their blooms actually look like clusters of juicy grapes?”
Penny said nothing for a minute. “That’s lovely, Savvy. It’s no wonder you want to be a writer. How do you know so much about flowers?”
“My mother is—was—a great gardener. She loved to garden at our old house. But she hasn’t been able to do much here yet.”
“My mum is a gardener too,” Penny said.
Just then we arrived at Hill House and walked up the long drive to the front door, where two Irish setters enthusiastically bounded out to greet us. For Penny’s sake I gritted my teeth and pretended to like the dogs jumping all over me. They were happy, after all. But Louanne was the dog person in our family.
I followed Penny into her kitchen. “Hello, Mrs. Barrowman.”
“Well, hullo, Savannah,” she replied. Penny’s mother was wearing a cashmere sweater set, wool pants, and pearls. I noticed a housekeeper bustling about in the background. “You’ll stay for supper tonight, then?”
“Yes, thank you for the invitation,” I said. I hoped there wouldn’t be lots of strange utensils like oyster forks and fish knives that I had no idea how to use. Didn’t want to embarrass Penny.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Penny said after kissing her mother on the cheek.
I followed her up the long, twisty stairway and into her suite—I mean, room. Once there she threw her book bag in the corner and slipped on her fuzzy slippers. “I found a new quiz for us.” She threw a magazine my way. I started making check marks in blue ink—Penny had already answered in red—to see what my conflict style was.
“So did you find a fancy dress?”
“A . . . what?”
“A fancy dress,” I said. “You know, for the ball.”
She giggled. “Oh, Savvy. Fancy dress means a costume. I really couldn’t show up at the ball in a costume, right?”
I blushed at my mistake. “Still learning British English,” I mumbled.
“I know,” she said kindly. “But no, I didn’t find anything to wear.”
I set down the magazine. “Really? I thought for sure you did but you weren’t telling me about it because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
“Really, I didn’t find anything,” she said. “The other girls found stuff. Most of the dresses were really cute. Except Chloe’s was a little . . . awkward looking.”
I crooked my eyebrow at her, and we both laughed. I was sure Chloe’s dress looked great. But Penny was a loyal friend. “I went to Be@titude on Friday, and they had great dresses. Do you want to run down there before dinner and check them out?”
“You don’t mind?” Penny asked.
“Not at all. We should get there before the best dresses are gone.”
Penny leaped up. “Perfect! I had fun with the girls on Friday, but I really missed your advice. You know, a lot of their dresses were kind of uptight, and I’m going for a more, uh, relaxed look now.”
She ran downstairs to make sure her mom was fine with our going, and then we took off to the village square. “I’ve got to drop something off at the post for my mum,” she said. We walked into the chemist’s shop, which had the post office in the back, and she handed the letter across the counter to the postman.
He looked at me and grinned. “How’s the writing coming, Miss Smith?”
I grinned back. “My pen has yet to run out of ink!” I was one of the few people who knew his secret—that he was “Father Christmas” too. I still had the Times of London pen he’d delivered to my house on Christmas Day.
A few minutes later Penny and I arrived at Be@titude.
“You’re back!” Becky said. “I’m so glad. The
I didn’t answer, and I guess in a way that was an answer in itself. Instead I pointed at the ancient, arthritic fingers of wood curling around the arbors leading to her home, Hill House. “Have you noticed that the wisterias are starting to bloom, and their blooms actually look like clusters of juicy grapes?”
Penny said nothing for a minute. “That’s lovely, Savvy. It’s no wonder you want to be a writer. How do you know so much about flowers?”
“My mother is—was—a great gardener. She loved to garden at our old house. But she hasn’t been able to do much here yet.”
“My mum is a gardener too,” Penny said.
Just then we arrived at Hill House and walked up the long drive to the front door, where two Irish setters enthusiastically bounded out to greet us. For Penny’s sake I gritted my teeth and pretended to like the dogs jumping all over me. They were happy, after all. But Louanne was the dog person in our family.
I followed Penny into her kitchen. “Hello, Mrs. Barrowman.”
“Well, hullo, Savannah,” she replied. Penny’s mother was wearing a cashmere sweater set, wool pants, and pearls. I noticed a housekeeper bustling about in the background. “You’ll stay for supper tonight, then?”
“Yes, thank you for the invitation,” I said. I hoped there wouldn’t be lots of strange utensils like oyster forks and fish knives that I had no idea how to use. Didn’t want to embarrass Penny.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Penny said after kissing her mother on the cheek.
I followed her up the long, twisty stairway and into her suite—I mean, room. Once there she threw her book bag in the corner and slipped on her fuzzy slippers. “I found a new quiz for us.” She threw a magazine my way. I started making check marks in blue ink—Penny had already answered in red—to see what my conflict style was.
“So did you find a fancy dress?”
“A . . . what?”
“A fancy dress,” I said. “You know, for the ball.”
She giggled. “Oh, Savvy. Fancy dress means a costume. I really couldn’t show up at the ball in a costume, right?”
I blushed at my mistake. “Still learning British English,” I mumbled.
“I know,” she said kindly. “But no, I didn’t find anything to wear.”
I set down the magazine. “Really? I thought for sure you did but you weren’t telling me about it because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
“Really, I didn’t find anything,” she said. “The other girls found stuff. Most of the dresses were really cute. Except Chloe’s was a little . . . awkward looking.”
I crooked my eyebrow at her, and we both laughed. I was sure Chloe’s dress looked great. But Penny was a loyal friend. “I went to Be@titude on Friday, and they had great dresses. Do you want to run down there before dinner and check them out?”
“You don’t mind?” Penny asked.
“Not at all. We should get there before the best dresses are gone.”
Penny leaped up. “Perfect! I had fun with the girls on Friday, but I really missed your advice. You know, a lot of their dresses were kind of uptight, and I’m going for a more, uh, relaxed look now.”
She ran downstairs to make sure her mom was fine with our going, and then we took off to the village square. “I’ve got to drop something off at the post for my mum,” she said. We walked into the chemist’s shop, which had the post office in the back, and she handed the letter across the counter to the postman.
He looked at me and grinned. “How’s the writing coming, Miss Smith?”
I grinned back. “My pen has yet to run out of ink!” I was one of the few people who knew his secret—that he was “Father Christmas” too. I still had the Times of London pen he’d delivered to my house on Christmas Day.
A few minutes later Penny and I arrived at Be@titude.
“You’re back!” Becky said. “I’m so glad. The
Similar Books
