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

and contrived to sound well-brought-up and dependable saying it.
    â€œMrs. Price to you,” Astrid said haughtily. But she shook hands with Luke and did not look as haughty as she sounded. “Well, come along if you’re coming,” she said.
    When they reached the first shop, Luke stood, looking rather wondering, among the lines of coats and stacks of shirts, while David tried things on. David and Astrid disagreed, as David had known they would, about what to buy. David’s idea of good clothes was loose comfortable things that looked best grubby. He cast longing looks at a rack of jeans, and at cotton sweaters in interesting colors. Astrid’s idea was something Aunt Dot would not disapprove of. She made David try on a suit with tight prickly trousers and asked the assistant for distasteful white shirts, with buttons.
    â€œI don’t like this suit,” David said sadly. “It pricks. And I don’t like those shirts either.”
    Astrid took hold of his elbow fiercely and led him out of the assistant’s hearing. “I warn you David,” she told him in a passionate whisper, “I shall do something dreadful if nothing’s going to satisfy Your Majesty except red robes and ermine!”
    â€œI’d be satisfied with jeans,” David said hopefully.
    â€œYou ungrateful little—!” Astrid began, but stopped when she realized that Luke was standing just beside David. “I give up!” she said to them both.
    â€œQuite right,” Luke agreed cheerfully. “I don’t think much of that suit either.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with it?” Astrid asked angrily.
    â€œHe looks like a penguin,” Luke said.
    Astrid looked at David, ready to deny it. But, in fact, the tightness and prickliness of the suit did make David stand in an awkward, stiff way, with his arms slightly out, very much like a penguin. “ Doh! ” said Astrid, and marched back to the assistant. David heard her say that they would leave the suit and just take the shirts, and could hardly believe his luck. He looked at Luke, and Luke gave him a smile of pure mischief.
    This episode did not improve Astrid’s temper. After the assistant had packed up the disagreeable shirts and they were leaving the shop, she said: “Now we shall have to go all the way to Trubitt’s and I want no more nonsense. I’ve got one of my heads coming on already.”
    As David and Luke followed her, Luke said, out of the corner of his mouth: “How many heads has she got?” David doubled up with laughter. He could not help it. He staggered sideways across the pavement, howling and coughing, with packets of shirt sliding out of his arms in all directions.
    Astrid, naturally, turned back, demanding to know what had got into him this time.
    â€œI don’t know,” Luke said artlessly. Then, very artfully, he added: “You know, Mrs. Price, you look to me as if you’ve got a headache.”
    â€œI do?” said Astrid, forgetting David. “Well, as a matter of fact I have, Luke. Right over my left eye.”
    â€œTerrible,” Luke said sympathetically. “How would it be if we were to go somewhere where you could sit down and rest for a while?”
    â€œOh, I’d give anything if I could!” said Astrid. “But we haven’t time. I promised David’s Aunt I’d buy him some clothes and—”
    â€œYou’ll do it all the quicker for having a rest,” Luke told her, kindly and firmly. “There’s plenty of time. You take my arm and tell me where you’d like to go.”
    â€œYou are a nice, considerate boy!” Astrid exclaimed. “But I’m not sure we ought.”
    Luke, with a soothing smile, held out his arm to her and winked at David—one small flicker of a wink that Astrid did not see. Astrid hooked her arm through Luke’s and set off for the nearest cafe so quickly and thankfully that