And This Is Laura. Ellen Conford

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to stall with. The moment I issued my polite invitation, Beth said, “Great! When?”

4

      “WELL, HERE WE ARE,” I said nervously as Beth followed me into my house the next week.

      “What a terrific place,” Beth marveled. “It’s just beautiful.”

      “Don’t jump to conclusions,” I warned her. “Wait till you see the rest of it.”

      “Anybody home?” I practically whispered, hoping that no one would hear me. That way I could lead Beth right up to my room, which was a relative oasis of neatness and quiet.

      “In the kitchen,” my mother called. She has ears like a bat.

      “. . . suppose a stiletto would be better than a dagger?” she was saying as I brought Beth into the kitchen. “I can never remember which one is long and thin.”

      My father, dressed in his usual depth-of-fashion style, was leaning against the refrigerator juggling three eggs—something he does when he’s trying to figure out some knotty work problem that’s hanging him up. My mother was in a chair, tilting it back on two legs and defying gravity to toss her over on her head.

      “Oh, hi!” she said. She brought the chair forward with a thunk. “You must be Beth.”

      “Pleased to meet you,” said Beth.

      My father caught the eggs neatly in one hand and reached his other hand out for Beth to shake.

      “Hello.”

      “Hello,” Beth said. “You’re really a good juggler.”

      “Thank you. But they’re hard-boiled,” he added modestly.

      “Even so . . .”

      “Well, it’s just a hobby.”

      “Do you girls know whether it’s a dagger or a stiletto that’s long and thin?”

      “Gee, I don’t know,” I said. I cast a sideways glance at Beth. She looked a little confused. “Why don’t you look it up in the dictionary?”

      “That’s a very good idea,” my mother agreed, “except that I can’t find the dictionary. You see, I want Linnet to see the blade glinting in the moonlight, and if the swarthy stranger has it pressed against her throat, I’m not sure that enough of the blade would extend out past her chin so that she could see it.”

      “Why don’t you make it a saber?” my father suggested. “That’s plenty long enough.” He resumed his juggling.

      “Oh, no,” my mother said impatiently. “You can’t carry a saber around in your teeth. Besides, this creep would never slink through back alleys shlepping a saber.”

      “She’s writing a book,” I hastened to explain before Beth ran screaming from the room. To be perfectly honest, Beth didn’t seem to be ready to run at all. In fact she appeared utterly fascinated by the whole ridiculous conversation.

      “Writing a book! How marvelous! What’s the name of it?”

      “I’m not sure. Either The Dark Side of Eden or Shadows in Paradise. Which do you like better?”

      “They’re both wonderful titles. I don’t know how you can pick.”

      “Maybe a dirk,” my mother said suddenly. “Does anyone have the remotest idea of what a dirk looks like?”

      “Come on, Beth. Let’s get something to eat and go up to my room.” But Beth wasn’t in much of a hurry to escape from my parents.

      “What kind of a book is it? Have you written anything else?”

      “Oh, lots,” my mother told her. “This one is a gothic romance. You know, where the heroine marries a mysterious stranger she hardly knows and goes to live in the old family mansion—”

      “Oh yeah, I’ve read some of those. Maybe I’ve even read something you wrote without knowing it.”

      “Come on, Beth. Let’s go upstairs.”

      “What are some of the names?” she persisted.

      “Let’s see, there’s The Secret of Cliffhaven, The Second Mrs. Marlowe, Legacy of Fear, The Crompton Estate, The Diary of Lydia Blake—”

      “You wrote all those?”

      “She wrote more than that,” I answered irritably. “Come on, Beth, we were going to practice our monologues.”

      “In a minute, in a minute. You know, the minute I get home I’m going to the library and look for some of your books.”

      “You probably won’t find too many of them in the library. They’re all paperbacks. But we’ve got lots of them around. Why don’t you borrow some if you feel like it?” My mother looked over at me, standing with my arms folded across my chest and my lips tightened into a narrow line.

      “Guess I’d better get back to work,” she said. She stretched lazily and uncoiled herself from the chair. “You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you, Beth?”

      “Yes, thank you.”

      “See you later.”

      “Excuse me,” I said pointedly to my father, who was blocking the refrigerator. He moved to the sink without ever stopping his juggling. Beth just stared.

      I was collecting Cokes and a big bag of popcorn when Dennis came wandering in.

      “Do you think I could count to afinity?” he asked my father.

      “You mean infinity?”

      “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

      “No, I don’t think so.”

      “Why not?” Dennis asked.

      “Because you’d never get there.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because that’s what infinity means.”

      “Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do after I get to a million.”

      “You could count to two million,” my father suggested.

      “No, that would just be the same thing. I wanted to do something different.”

      I had to practically drag Beth out of the kitchen.

      “He’s so cute,” she said. “Not at all like Roger. And so smart.”

      “Yeah,” I agreed sourly.

      We were no sooner up in my room with the door СКАЧАТЬ