The Summer of Secrets by Sarah Jasmon Read Free Book Online Page B

messy.
    ‘I suppose if she does it …’ Helen’s voice tailed off as Victoria turned round.
    ‘Alice?’ Victoria gave a short laugh. ‘Alice doesn’t do things. She waits for other people to do them for her.’
    She gave the mixture a vigorous stir. Drops of floury water flew out across the table and splattered down the front of Helen’s T-shirt.
    ‘Careful!’ Helen wiped some from her cheek.
    ‘Well, I did tell you to wear old clothes.’
    Victoria went back to her stirring and they were silent for a time. The weather had changed today. The air felt sticky and slow, and clouds, low and dark, had been building up as Helen had walked down to the cottage after breakfast. Now, the kitchen was full of shadows.
    ‘OK, it’s ready.’ Victoria turned off the gas and picked up the saucepan with both hands. She nodded towards the table. ‘You bring that one.’
    As Helen went after her towards the stairs, there came a rumble from the sky outside. Helen stopped to count the seconds before the lightning. It was a long way off yet. Victoria lifted her saucepan above her head and glanced over her shoulder.
    ‘It looks as if we’ve cooked up some magic,’ she said, and broke into a run.
    Victoria had discovered the wallpaper in an outhouse. It had been partly used at some point, the end edges left roughly cut and the tightness of the rolls finishing in a loose furl. There was no sign of its pattern inside the cottage, which Helen could understand. She thought it was horrible, the huge brown and orange flowers reaching out with nightmare tendrils towards each other. Now, putting her saucepan down inside Victoria’s bedroom door, she leaned her head to one side. Spread out in long strips on the floor, it wasn’t any nicer than she remembered.
    ‘And you’re sure you want this on your ceiling?’ She spoke to Victoria’s back. ‘It’d give me nightmares.’
    Victoria was gathering armfuls of clothes from the floor and piling them on to the bed.
    ‘It’s brilliant.’ She didn’t look round, but nodded towards a plastic washing up bowl. ‘Can you fill that with water?’
    A louder crack of thunder sounded. Helen turned, but was too late to see the lightning flash.
    ‘It’s going to rain any minute. Do you want to close the window?’
    ‘Not really.’ Victoria dragged a bedspread over the pile she had made and waved a hand towards the bowl. ‘Water!’
    Helen bent to pick it up as the next roll of thunder came. This time she was quick enough to see the forks of light stand out behind the network of trees on the far bank. She felt the air holding itself ready for the rain, but none came.
    ‘Hello! I need it over here!’ Victoria’s voice was sharp, but still Helen lingered by the window. The sky beyond the trees was a smooth metal plate, reflecting darkness with menace. ‘Helen!’
    She jumped at the tone, and dragged herself away.
    The flour-and-water glue turned out to be less sticky on the ceiling than it felt on their hands and arms. As Victoria pushed one end of the wallpaper against the corner of the wall, Helen pressed with her hands along its length. By the time she reached the end, though, the middle section was bellying off. She saw Victoria take a step forward and, in that instant, the far end fell away.
    ‘Quick, it’s coming down, behind you, behind you!’ She let go of her own piece to pat ineffectually further along, but her hand went straight through.
    ‘It’s got me!’ Victoria’s voice rose up in a shriek as her head and shoulders disappeared under the collapsing paper.
    Laughing, Helen forgot to keep an eye on her own end. Seconds later, it came down as well. There were acres of it, the clinging sodden folds wrapping themselves around her. It felt soft, but she couldn’t break through. Slime filled her mouth as another bolt of thunder cracked. Her breath was coming in gasps, and she couldn’t inhale. Just as panic was about to win, she felt the paper being pulled away.