Gossip from Thrush Green by Miss Read

Author:Miss Read [Read, Miss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780618219131
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 1981-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

That same day, after the school children had raced home, Miss Watson and Miss Fogerty enjoyed a well-deserved rest in the school house garden.

In common with the majority of Thrush Green residents, a modest tea was before them.

A tray with two cups and saucers, milk jug, teapot and a plate bearing half a dozen delicious lemon curd tartlets, made a brave sight.

The two friends were content to bask in the sun in silent companionship. An inquisitive blackbird made forays from the hedge, its bright eyes focused on the tea tray. Apart from its pattering claws upon the dead leaves, and the distant shouts of tardily departing children across the green, a blissful somnolence enwrapped them.

Agnes allowed her mind to drift from school matters to the more personal needs of her modest wardrobe. Should she buy another cotton frock, suitable for school, or should she get Miss Crookshank to make up the length of blue checked gingham she had prudently bought before material became so expensive?

The difficulty was that Miss Crookshank would probably need quite a month to get the frock made, pleading pressure of business, her mother's illness and other excuses, all probably quite genuine, Miss Fogerty told herself, but the result would be that the fine spell would probably be over by the time the garment was completed.

And, of course, she must get a new pattern. That princess-style, button-through one which had done so well for so many years, had its drawbacks. Far too often the bottom button had burst off when showing the children how to be a really energetic galloping horse in the playground. And, on occasions, she had discovered that the bodice gaped, which was immodest to say the least. Perhaps something with a yoke? No zip, of course, and certainly not at the back. Far too difficult to reach.

There was a lot to be said for buying a frock readymade. She had seen some attractive ones in two of the Lulling shops, but the prices had been excessive, and it was really a shocking waste not to have the gingham made up. On the other hand, was the gingham perhaps too light in colour for school wear? One must remember how quickly clothes grew grubby in contact with such things as coloured chalks, modelling clay, charcoal sticks, paste and poster paints, not to mention innumerable infants' fingers clutching at one's raiment.

Agnes, juggling gently with this problem, was brought to earth by a squeak from her companion.

'Oh dear, I didn't mean to wake you,' began Dorothy.

'I wasn't asleep, dear, I assure you. Did something sting you?'

'No, no. I was about to get up to carry in the tray, and my leg gave a twinge. All over now. I think I must have been sitting awkwardly.'

'Should you see the doctor again?' asked Agnes, full of solicitude.

'No, I'm really quite fit. Well, as fit as I'm going to be, I suspect.'

'But surely,' protested Agnes, 'you will go on getting stronger? It isn't all that long ago—'.

'It's well over a year,' said Dorothy.

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