Time After Time by Wendy Godding Read Free Book Online

them, and look at me.’
    Beth glanced across the room to where Emma, Lilly and their group sat. They were surrounded by cheerleaders and the basketball team. ‘You could take them out any day. I mean, I know you’re tiny and all, but you’re one tough—’
    ‘I don’t mean that ,’ I interrupted, ‘I mean look at them, and look at me. If I hit her, who do you think is going to get suspended? Or expelled? And, knowing those two, probably even charged!’
    Beth fell quiet for a moment. She knew I was right. No one would stick up for me over Lilly. ‘You know, we could look a little different,’ Beth suggested. ‘We don’t have to look so…alternative.’
    ‘What? And look like them?’ I spat, ‘Like teenage replicas from Seventeen magazine? No. Thank. You.’
    Beth shrugged. ‘Just a thought. Then you could hit them and no one would blame you. And it would make my mother happy. Plus, we might stand a chance with Marcus Knight.’
    There it is again! That name! Not only was he next door and in my dreams, now my friends couldn’t stop talking about him.
    ‘Isn’t he a darling!’ Laura said, joining us. She plonked her tray down a little too hard, sloshing some of her Coke.
    I glanced at her wryly. ‘I’m not sure you’re his type.’
    ‘No. He must prefer blondes. Apparently he already has a date with the horrible Lilly Hamilton on Saturday night. Fast mover.’
    ‘More like Lilly’s a fast mover,’ I mumbled, feeling strangely irritated by the idea of Marcus dating Lilly. What do I care who Marcus goes out with?
    But I did care. Or, at least, I knew Penelope would care very much who Heath fraternised with. After all, judging by the way she blushed every time he looked at her, and how her heart took on a frenzied rhythm whenever his eyes fell on her, she was falling desperately in love with him.
    I arrived purposely late to art class, hoping to avoid any further confrontations with Lilly and Emma. I needn’t have worried. The two girls had already set up their easels near Marcus and were too busy flirting to even notice me. Savour the small graces , I told myself.
    Like Penelope, I loved art, mostly because I could lose myself in the soothing, meditative process of painting. It provided a brief escape from my chaotic, confusing life, if only for a little while. It was only when I painted or drew that I forgot about who I was during the day, and who I was at night.
    Right now we were creating using an architectural theme. Landscapes and buildings was the topic, and I was painting the parsonage. Using oils, I worked on the sky, which was causing me some bother. It was proving difficult to capture, as if I’d never really looked up and seen it.
    ‘Pretty, Abbie,’ said Miss Morup behind me, ‘An old English church. Very quaint. Are you working off a photograph?’ She glanced around my station but, of course, found no photograph.
    ‘No.’ I didn’t offer an explanation.
    ‘Well, very nicely done,’ she murmured before moving away.
    ‘It must be a sunset picture,’ Lilly called from across the room. Honestly, did the girl miss nothing? ‘All orange !’ It wasn’t funny, but most of the class had a good giggle.
    Ignoring her, I kept working. Mixing a selection of blues and greys, I concentrated on the clouds drifting above the parsonage. I was pleased with the buildings—the church and the cottage stood just as I remembered—but the sky somehow needed to show movement and change. I’d toyed with the idea of doing a sunset or sunrise, but that seemed too clichéd. It also seemed too hopeful, when I knew there was no hope for the parson’s daughter. There never was.
    He would get her in the end. He always got her in the end, and for Penelope, the end was drawing frightfully near.
    After working silently for a while, I became aware of someone standing behind me, watching wordlessly. Assuming it was Miss Morup again, I continued painting, concentrating on the clouds, making them darker and