Bliss. Kathryn Littlewood
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Название: Bliss

Автор: Kathryn Littlewood

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Детская проза

Серия:

isbn: 9780007451753

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ you and I should run the bakery together.

      Rose beamed at the thought. “I guess it would be all right,” she began, “to just copy a few of the recipes out of the book and learn them ourselves; then we can teach them to her at the end of the week. That way she’ll just think it’s a regular recipe with a few weird ingredients. But she can’t know about the book!”

      Sage and Ty nodded, smiling. “Lily’s gonna love this,” Ty said.

      “OK,” Rose said, putting her toothbrush away, and then Leigh’s. “Let’s meet in the back of the fridge tomorrow morning before she wakes up and copy some recipes.”

      The brothers Bliss gave each other a high five, then patted Rose on the back. And for the first time in a while, she felt like they had all come from the same parents.

      “For the record, I have a bad feeling about this,” Rose said, but Ty and Sage were too busy doing a victory dance to hear. She picked Leigh up in her arms like a baby and plopped her on to her bed. Rose pulled the soft red jersey sheets up to her little sister’s chin and tucked them under. “Do you think I’m making a mistake, Leigh?”

      But Leigh was already asleep.

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      VERY EARLY THE next morning, Rose tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, still in her nightgown. She had a tiny bad feeling about this whole plan, but a huge thrilled feeling about using the cookbook and being part of a team with her brothers, so that won out.

      The sky outside was a pale grey, and little rivers of rain inched their way down the windows, blurring the lines of the backyard. Rose could barely make out the dark form of Aunt Lily’s motorcycle sitting in the driveway. Leigh was still asleep in her bed, and as Rose crept down the stairs, she had been able to hear Mrs Carlson snoring mightily. All was quiet from the basement, so it seemed that Lily was asleep as well.

      Ty was crammed into the booth, still wearing his blue lacrosse shorts, a white tank top and a lime-green walkie-talkie headset that he’d got for his birthday a few years before.

      “Welcome, Rosemary,” he said, motioning for her to sit. “You’re right on schedule.” He pressed a button on the headset and spoke into the microphone. “Coriander, come in. Come in, Coriander.”

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