Great Meadow Read Online Free Page B

along, take them off, it’s a fine summer’s day, you’ll come to no grief on thegrass in your socks. Give them to me and I’ll clean them up in a trice, otherwise it cakes. Chalk does.’
    She was being very bossy but you could see Brian didn’t want a bit to take his shoes off, only he knew he had to, and you could see why when he did: there were huge holes in his socks. My sister was just about to say something about the holes – I mean, you could see that, and she had pointed – when Lally gave her a box on the ears, not very hard, and said, ‘Into the kitchen with you, Maddemoselle, and wash your hands . . . Fifteen minutes to lunch time.’
    We walked behind her to the cottage.
    â€˜What’s for lunch, then?’ I said, because there was a bit of a silence and I thought Brian Thing was a bit pale looking at all his toes. Almost.
    â€˜Tea, toast and six eggs,’ said Lally quite crossly and went into the kitchen with the shoes.
    â€˜It isn’t really that,’ I said. ‘It’s just what she always says when you ask tea, toast and six eggs. It’s to put you off and stop you being a Nosey Parker, I think.’
    But he didn’t say anything, just looked rather uncomfortable, and suddenly Lally stuck her head out of the kitchen window. ‘Don’t loll about there, you two, wash your hands and show Brian where. And, Brian? – why don’t you take off your socks and go barefoot? It’s such a hot day, and I’m doing my wash this afternoon. You’re bound to have got them muddy . . . hurry along. And you two take off
your
sandals – I don’t want you traipsing about my kitchen with mud everywhere, thank you very much. Lunch in ten minutes . . .’
    Well, it was pretty silly telling us to take off our sandals because she never did before and they weren’t even muddy,but she did it just to make old Brian Thing feel at home, on account of he must have felt a bit silly sitting there on the grass in his holey socks. So we did and he did, and it was rather a nice feeling putting your feet into the grass and walking on the red bricks in the kitchen, and he seemed to quite cheer up. And so did I because it was my favourite lunch anyway: pressed tongue and pickled onions and damson tart for afterwards. It was quite funny really, because old Brian Thing quite forgot about his shoes and his holey socks, and he also forgot to say Miss Jane once. He just said Lally. Like we did.
    In the end it really wasn’t such a bad week. Well, as weeks go. It’s always a bit mouldy if you have a Guest and have to be extra polite to him and do everything he wants to do and make him feel welcome. Even Family Hold Back on the pudding and so on, which was a bit irritating.
    And Brian Thing got quite nice, well, as nice as anyone can who looks like that: all pale and speckled and wearing tin glasses. But Lally kept on saying, ‘Just you both remember he’s got something to worry about with a new mother and all, and he’s a well-educated boy and not used to people like you.’ And that put us in our places, or so she jolly well thought. But anyway, we were all right to him and he wasn’t bad. And he got better after the holey socks time, and especially after the next day when Lally came down with us all to the village – which was a bit funny because she never came down in the mornings and always told us to skedaddle from under her feet and find something to do or go for the messages while she whipped round the house, as she called it.
    They were quite surprised in Wilde’s, the grocer’s, too. And bossy Miss Maltravers behind the post office counter-place said, ‘Well! Miss Jane. As I breathe! What a surprise. We don’t often see you here of a morning.’
    â€˜No more you don’t,’ said Lally. ‘Better things to do than traipsing about the shops, Miss Maltravers. Bit of elbow grease up at