Easy Peasy by Lesley Glaister Page B

Bridget were already up in the tree-house. Mummy had decided to bake some cakes and Puddle-duck stood in the kitchen gazing at her as she weighed flour. ‘Grizzle, take Vassily out to play,’ she said. I knew what would happen and I was right. The moment we were outside there were giggles from the tree-house, the creak of movement, Hazel playing ‘The Ugly Duckling’ on her recorder and then wolf-whistles.
    Puddle-duck, who had taken his hearing-aids off and left them on the kitchen table, heard none of this, of course, and he stood looking round the garden with an expression of stupid wonder on his face. Every so often he’d catch my eye and smile expectantly as if I was suddenly supposed to produce fun .
    I went back into the kitchen. Mummy didn’t look up, she had the tip of her tongue caught anxiously between her teeth as she rolled up a strawberry jam Swiss roll. Daddy had just returned from a game of golf and was foraging in the fridge.
    â€˜I don’t know what to do with him,’ I complained. ‘And Hazel and Bridget are being foul up in the tree-house. Teasing us. Teasing him .’ I thought that would bother her, but I didn’t expect Daddy to react. Usually he took no notice of us and our squabbles. But now he pushed past me into the garden. I followed him. There was a sudden silence from the tree-house.
    â€˜Hazel,’ Daddy’s voice was stern.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Could you come down and let Griselda and her pal up there.’
    There was a stifled guffaw from Bridget, ‘Pal!’ Hazel shushed her.
    â€˜Would you like to?’ Daddy smiled at Puddle-duck and pointed up at the tree-house, a question in his face.
    â€˜Yes,’ Puddle-duck answered in his loud spongy voice, ‘please.’
    â€˜It’s my turn today. We’re all set up,’ came Hazel’s voice. ‘Isn’t it, Grizzle? My turn.’
    Daddy looked at me. I shrugged. There was no such arrangement, I only knew that if Hazel had Bridget round the tree-house was automatically hers and I wasn’t allowed in. I should have backed her up but I was too interested in seeing what Daddy would do.
    â€˜I don’t care,’ he said. ‘Griselda’s visitor would like to look round.’
    â€˜ My visitor is looking round,’ Hazel said. I held my breath. How dare she cheek Daddy like that? She was only showing off in front of Bridget.
    â€˜I have said come down.’ Daddy’s voice wasn’t loud but it was very dangerous. This had never happened before because Daddy never got involved.
    â€˜I’d leave them to it, Ralph,’ said Mummy from the kitchen doorway.
    â€˜Down!’ Daddy repeated. I suddenly wanted to laugh. He was looking up at the tree-house as if at a massive and disobedient dog. ‘Down!’ Puddle-duck’s head was swivelling backwards and forwards between Daddy and the tree.
    After a moment, the hatch opened and the rope ladder flopped and swung to the ground. Bridget came down first, blowing a rude gum-bubble at me, and then Hazel. She had red marks on the backs of her thighs where she’d been sitting on the crumpled rug. Hazel didn’t look at me or Daddy but stalked past towards the kitchen door.
    â€˜Upstairs,’ Daddy said.
    â€˜But …’
    â€˜Bridget can go home now.’
    Hazel tossed her head as she went in but I could see the brilliant red of the backs of her ears.
    Mummy, in the doorway, let Hazel past and then stood frowning at Daddy. She had flour in her hair that made her seem old. The happy smell of fresh cakes floated out and I felt sorry for Hazel. I could see that Mummy wanted to object: she would never have sent Bridget home, but she didn’t let herself. She pursed her lips at me, then went back into the kitchen and shut the door.
    â€˜Up you go then, Vassily.’ Daddy held the ladder still for him. I watched. Daddy never did this, took any notice of our friends,