Eight Days of Luke by Diana Wynne Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

Cousin Ronald’s refusal to let David near a radio. David wanted to hear the Test Match as much as Cousin Ronald, but Cousin Ronald, saying that any radio David went near became covered with compost, took all three radios with him into the study and shut the door in David’s face.
    There was nothing for David to do but unpack his trunk, which arrived soon after breakfast. His cricket bat, when he came to it, did not seem as large as he remembered, and all the clothes were rather small.
    â€œThat means new everything,” Astrid said, sighing. “We’ll be all afternoon. My head will be splitting in this heat, but I know you won’t care how I feel.”
    â€œYes I will,” David said truthfully. When Astrid had a headache, she was always more than usually spiteful, so it was natural to hope that her head would not split.
    â€œThanks for nothing,” Astrid retorted and climbed into her Mini, jangling bracelets and flouncing her handbag. “Don’t rush to get in, will you?”
    â€œYou have to unlock the door first,” David said patiently, wondering how he was to get through this shopping expedition without being rude to Astrid.
    It was very difficult. Astrid could find nowhere to park her Mini. She drove from place to place, grumbling, while the inside of the car became hotter and hotter. Astrid announced that she felt faint and said she would drive home again. She did not do this, however, because she was almost as much afraid of Aunt Dot as David was. Instead, she drove to a very distant car-park, and they set out to walk back to the shops. Astrid’s feet hurt her.
    â€œThere are shooting pains in my insteps,” she said. “Do you think I’ve dislocated my toe?”
    â€œNo. It’s because you wear such silly shoes,” David explained.
    â€œI’ve had about enough of your cheek!” Astrid said, and marched on very fast and upright to prove David wrong.
    David trotted after her, sweating in the heat and dodging among the crowds on the pavement. He longed to be elsewhere—preferably by the compost heap, meeting Luke. Then he began to wonder if it was really true that he only had to strike a match to bring Luke. He knew it was only Luke’s nonsense really. He could prove it, if he wanted, by striking a match here, in the middle of Ashbury, where Luke could not possibly turn up. David did not want to. He wanted to pretend that Luke was the one extraordinary thing that had happened in this exceptionally miserable holiday. But, by the time Astrid had told him twice not to dawdle and three times more about her feet, David had reached the stage where he wanted to prove that everything was flat and ordinary and horrible, just because everything so obviously was.
    While they were waiting to cross a street, David turned aside, fetched out the box, struck a match, and then had to throw it flaring in the gutter, because Astrid told him sharply not to dawdle and he had to walk on across the street.
    â€œHallo,” said Luke, strolling across beside him with his hands in his pockets. “Why are you looking so hot and bothered?”
    David beamed at him. Life was suddenly quite different. “I just hate shopping,” he said. “And she keeps on telling me to walk quicker.”
    â€œWhich cat’s mother’s she?” said Luke.
    â€œAstrid,” David said, giggling.
    Astrid turned round when she heard her name. “What are you at now ?”
    â€œI’ve met a friend,” David said gaily. “Can Luke come with us, Astrid?”
    â€œWell, really!” said Astrid, and she looked Luke over in a most unfriendly way. This, David thought, was unfair, because Luke looked remarkably clean and spruce today. His red hair was tidy, his freckled face was clean, and the burn on his cheek hardly showed at all.
    Luke, however, held out his hand to Astrid, smiling most politely. “How do you do, Astrid?” he said,