Little Plum by Rumer Godden

Author:Rumer Godden [Godden, Rumer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan London Limited

Chapter 6

‘MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS’. Nona would have minded hers at once but, ‘Huh!’ said Belinda, as if she were delighted, and next afternoon, ‘Nona, haven’t you another paper sunshade like the dolls’ house one?’ she asked.

Nona had found two sunshades in crackers at a party that Christmas. They matched the one that stood in the dolls’ house ‘shoes off’ place and Nona had kept them carefully. Now reluctantly she took one out – it was pink with blossoms on it – and gave it to Belinda. ‘I was keeping it in case . . .’ she said, but Belinda was already writing. ‘How do you spell “umbrella”?’ she asked.

Gem almost caught Belinda that afternoon. Belinda had hardly got back to the platform and turned to draw back the ladder when Gem and Matson came up the garden path. Belinda was almost hidden by the top branch but not quite, and she froze as a rabbit does when it scents danger. ‘Oh, don’t look up! Don’t!’ prayed Belinda, and held her breath until Gem and Matson had passed safely into the house. Then she had to hurry and untie the ladder from the fork, but she tried so hard to be quick that her hands fumbled and she had only just time to draw back when Gem came into the sitting room. As fast as she could Belinda wriggled back to the platform and flattened herself against it and, ‘What will Gem do when she sees the sunshade?’ asked Belinda. She had put it on the windowsill with a message: ‘We take our dolls OUT. Why don’t you? If you’re afraid of rane, here’s an umbrella.’ The sunshade was not an umbrella, but Miss Happiness and Miss Flower could use theirs in the rain because Nona had painted it on the outside with oil.

Belinda had not long to wait. In what seemed a minute the window opened wide and the sunshade was thrown out, thrown by Gem’s hand, and hard. It was open, and like a little parachute, it caught the wind and floated, eddying towards the Fells’ garden, and Belinda saw that it went so well because it was weighted by a screwed-up paper. A message, thought Belinda. It eddied over the Fells’ garden, coming lower and lower.

Belinda ached to go and catch it, but with Gem at the window she had to stay where she was – and as still as that frozen rabbit. Suppose I sneeze, thought Belinda, and at once she wanted to sneeze. Luckily Tom had taught her a trick of rubbing her finger hard under her nose and she just managed not to sneeze.

The sunshade came down, caught in a forsythia bush in the Fells’ border, but still Gem stayed watching at the window, while Belinda grew colder and colder; she could not feel her feet at all, her hands ached with cold and her nose was running but, she’s trying to trap me, thought Belinda. Nothing would have made her move.

It was growing

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