First Fruits by Penelope evans Read Free Book Online Page B

could blame them? If it's
charm you're after, Lydia's always going to be the one that's left behind, the
first person out of the balloon. The one no-one would miss.
    Still, you have to look on the bright
side, even if it's for her sake.
    'It can't be that bad,' I say. And it's
true. She'd miss school and she wouldn't be in Scotland, the country
where she can't open her mouth without sounding like an alien.
    But Lydia's not having it. 'It is, it is
that bad. I mean, Laura loves it, but that's because she's young. She
doesn't mind the cats or Aunty Jane fussing. She doesn't even care about all of
Aunty Jane's friends. In fact she likes them. They give her fifty pences
and tell her she's wonderful.'
    Silly of me. I'd forgotten Laura. Then
again, clever Laura, knowing the value of old ladies. Cleverer than her big
sister, that's for sure. Listen to her now, still going on, complaining about
the smell, the draughts and tinned macaroni cheese. As if these were the worst
things ever.
    A proper moaning Minnie, that's what she
was being.
    Then suddenly, out of the blue, a voice
cuts in, stopping her saying another word.
    'If it's that bad, then why don't you
come and stay in the boarding house?'
    It's Fiona McPherson, appeared from
nowhere, cool as a cucumber, a copy of Just Seventeen folded under one
arm. She must have been listening to every word. But on whose say so? I give
her one of my special looks, the sort that would chop the legs out from under
Hilary. The sort of look that has no effect whatsoever on Fiona.
    Instead she's having an effect all of
her own.
    'What?' says Lydia in a voice gone all
faint. 'What did you say?'
    Fiona gives a smile, the sort anyone
else would have to practise in front of a mirror five times a night. Chilly,
but with just the correct touch of warmth - if you were the right
person. 'I said you could always get your parents to let you board for a while,
here at the school. People do it. You could sleep in our dorm.'
    She raises an eyebrow (plucked, you can
tell) and pauses, waiting for a reply. But Lydia is speechless. Fiona smiles,
even more coolly and, as a final gesture, places that copy of Just Seventeen on Lydia's desk. 'Have this' she says, so casual. 'It's this week's. And
ask your parents about the boarding.'
    Then she was gone - leaving Hilary and
Lydia to stare at the magazine as if it was a gift from high.
    'Well,' I say, brisk as anything. 'Well, really... '
    But this is bad. Because neither of them
seems to have heard me. Hilary reaches out a hand, touches the magazine, then
withdraws it, remembering it wasn't meant for her.
    'Lydia,' she says, all breathy. 'Oh
Lydia, would you..?'
    It's those books she will keep reading,
having their effect. Midnight feasts and talking far into the the night. All
girls together, having fun. Best of all, getting to sit with the boarders over
by the window day in, day out.
    And Lydia? She doesn't even answer.
She's too busy staring at Just Seventeen , eyes dreamy behind the broken
panes, a tiny smile on her lips. Golly, it's like a disease, and she's got it
worse than Hilary. You can see it would be no good saying anything to her now.
You might as well try talking to the wall.
    I think we may have lost her. And she
was turning out to have so much potential. Attention shared might have been
attention halved. Now Dad will never get his chance to meet her, and I'll never
see them together. It will just be just the two of us, as it has always been. 
I'll be his one and only for ever.
    Unless.
    Unless I do something about it.
     

Chapter Four
     
    A phone call, that's all it took.
    Monday morning, and Lydia is back to
normal. No more faraway looks, no more secret smiles aimed at the window, for
all the world as if she was safely there already, one of the gang. A single telephone
call and Lydia is herself again, one of us, where she belongs.
    But does she appreciate it? Saved from
her Aunty Jane, saved from having to sleep among strangers - who wouldn't want
her