Pure Juliet by Stella Gibbons Read Free Book Online

– let’s hear it. Juliet,’ gently, ‘it isn’t nice to read when other people are talking – put your book away, dear.’
    ‘Sorry, Auntie.’ The book obediently dropped at the side of the tuffet; the red deepened, as Juliet fixed her gaze on Miss Pennecuick’s face.
    ‘Yes, I really think everything’s arranged at last. I’m going to get the necessary papers signed next Monday.’
    ‘Then you’ll be in by Christmas. How delightful. We must have a party – and talking of parties, Clemence and Dolly are coming for the weekend.’
    At this point the luncheon gong sounded, and they went in.
    ‘I already see lots of Clem in Wanby,’ Frank said, as he drew his great-aunt’s chair for her, and she laughed and pinched his cheek.
    Here Sarah, who was sourly handing vegetables, said loudly, ‘Dr Masters ought to see that boy, Miss Addy. He’s got a bump on the back of his head the size of an egg. Some people ought to be ashamed of themselves,’ fixing Juliet with a glare.
    Juliet, gobbling, did not look up.
    ‘Well, Sarah, I did ask you to tell Pilar not to polish the floors so highly.’
    ‘You like the floors well polished, Miss Addy, and besides it wasn’t the floor. She pushed him.’
    ‘Pilar? His own sister?’
    ‘No, Miss Addy. Her,’ indicating Juliet with a jerk of the head.
    ‘Did you, Juliet dear? Surely not – what happened? Tell old Auntie – she promises not to be cross with her girlie.’
    ‘I expect he pulled her hair,’ Frank said. ‘I’ve seen him at it more than once.’
    ‘Did he, Juliet?’
    A nod.
    ‘And did you push him?’
    ‘Yes. As hard as I could.’ She gulped some water.
    ‘Well . . .’ Miss Pennecuick said helplessly, while Sarah’s voice cut in: ‘Comes of wearing it all over the place, instead of done up decent. What does she expect?’
    ‘It served him damn well right,’ Frank said calmly, ‘and if he does it again, you do it again, Juliet. That will do, Sarah, thank you,’ with a smile.
    Sarah crept out of the room.
    ‘I – I really don’t know what to say . . .’ Miss Pennecuick leant back feebly, pushing away her plate. ‘Sarah can be so tiresome – she’s faithfulness itself, of course, and she’s been with me so long, nearly fifty years, but it makes it so difficult sometimes, she gets jealous, I don’t know how it is, you can always manage things—’
    ‘I’m a man,’ and he laughed.
    Juliet continued to eat.
    ‘I’m so pleased and relieved, dear boy, that you’re coming to live at Wanby. Now if only you would settle down with that sweet girl—’
    ‘What sweet girl, Aunt?’
    ‘Now you know perfectly well who I mean—’
    ‘I assure you I haven’t the faintest idea . . . are you ready for pud?’ and he rang the bell.
    It was true; he had not the faintest idea. For he did not think of his great friend, Clemence Massey, as a sweet girl.
    Once or twice during the consumption of the pud, Juliet looked at Frank with a long stare. He had stood up for her. Not as that old fool of an auntie would have, but sensibly. If someone at the Comp hit you or pulled your hair, you hit or pulled back. Only common sense, that was, only natural.
    For the first time since their meeting in St Alberics high street, she thought about Frank Pennecuick. Bolting pudding, because she had forgotten Auntie’s gentle reproof, she let him invade her mind.
    An unfamiliar feeling came upon her when she looked at his long brown face. She wondered if she could talk to him about that part of her mind which was suffering confusion. For what she was beginning to feel towards him, without knowing its nature, was trust.
    At the Comp, the mathematics master had been permanently irritable and exhausted, and the one thing that he had always made starkly plain was the fact that no individual could have more than three minutes, preferably two, of his time.
    Juliet wanted an hour, perhaps half a day; she did not know how long because she did not know exactly what she wanted