Charmed Life by Diana Wynne Jones

Author:Diana Wynne Jones
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780061756337
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-01-05T04:22:43+00:00

Cat found it hard to concentrate on lessons that afternoon. He had to watch Janet like a hawk. Janet had decided that the only safe thing was to be totally stupid—she thought Gwendolen must have been pretty stupid anyway—and Cat knew she was overdoing it. Even Gwendolen had known the twice-times table. Cat was worried too, in case Julia started knotting that handkerchief of hers when Mr. Saunders’ back was turned. Luckily, Julia did not quite dare. But Cat’s main worry was how to find twenty pounds by next Wednesday. He could hardly bear to think of what might happen if he did not. The very least thing, he knew, would be Janet confessing she was not Gwendolen. He thought of Chrestomanci giving him that scathing stare and saying, “You went with Gwendolen to buy dragons’ blood, Eric? But you knew it was illegal. And you tried to cover up by making Janet pretend to be Gwendolen? You show touching concern, Eric.” The mere idea made Cat shrivel up inside. But he had nothing to sell except a pair of earrings that shouted that they belonged to someone else. If he wrote to the Mayor of Wolvercote and asked if he could have twenty pounds out of the Fund, the Mayor would only write to Chrestomanci to ask why Cat wanted it. And then Chrestomanci would stare scathingly and say, “You went with Gwendolen to buy dragons’ blood, Eric?” It was hopeless.

“Are you feeling well, Eric?” Mr. Saunders asked several times.

“Oh, yes,” Cat replied each time. He was fairly sure that having your mind in three places at once did not count as illness, much as it felt like it.

“Play soldiers?” Roger suggested after lessons.

Cat would have liked to, but he dared not leave Janet on her own. “I’ve got to do something,” he said.

“With Gwendolen. I know,” Roger said wearily. “Anyone would think you were her left leg, or something.”

Cat felt hurt. The annoying thing was that he knew Janet could have done without her left leg more easily than she could have done without him. As he hurried after Janet to Gwendolen’s room, he wished heartily it was really Gwendolen he was hurrying after.

Inside the room, Janet was feverishly collecting things: Gwendolen’s spell books, the ornaments on the mantelpiece, the gold-backed brush and hand mirror off the dressing table, the jar on the bedside table, and half the towels from the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” said Cat.

“Finding things we can sell. Is there anything you can bear to spare from your room?” said Janet. “Don’t look like that. I know it amounts to stealing, but I get so desperate when I think of that horrible Mr. Bisto going to Chrestomanci that I don’t care anymore.” She went to the wardrobe and rattled the clothes along the rail. “There’s an awfully good coat in here.”

“You’ll need that on Sunday if it turns cold,” Cat said drearily. “I’ll go and see what I’ve got—only promise me to stay here until I come back.

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