Room for a Stranger by Ann Turnbull

Author:Ann Turnbull [Turnbull, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781406350678
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2013-06-06T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rhoda and Lennie left at twelve the next morning, as soon as Lennie got home from work.

“’Bye, Doreen,” said Rhoda in a small voice. She looked sheepish. Doreen guessed Mum had had a word with her last night.

“Have a good time,” she said sarcastically.

Mum sighed and shook her head. She began clearing the table.

Doreen heard Lennie and Rhoda talking as they walked across the yard. Then she heard the sound of the shed door opening. She sprang to her feet.

“My bike!” she said.

“Doreen—” Mum began. But Doreen was already out in the yard.

Lennie’s bicycle was propped up against the shed wall and he was bringing out the other one: a lady’s, with a basket on the front.

Doreen threw herself at him. “She’s not having my bike!”

“It’s not yours. It’s Mary’s.” Lennie felt the tyres: squashy; he unclipped the pump.

“It’s mine for now.”

“Yours and Mum’s,” said Lennie. He was pumping steadily.

“I asked your mam,” said Rhoda.

Doreen glared at her. “You never asked me! And you’re not having it.” She grabbed at the handlebars, knocking Lennie off balance.

“For heaven’s sake, Doreen,” he shouted, “don’t be so babyish!”

Mum had come out. “Doreen, I told Rhoda she could take the bike. It’s Mary’s bike, not yours. Now leave Lennie alone.”

Doreen gave the bicycle a hard shove towards Lennie and ran inside.

Everybody was against her. She hated them all. She stormed upstairs and into her bedroom. The two beds confronted her; hers unmade, Rhoda’s neatly covered with its floral quilt.

She hated Rhoda.

She began to drag out the screen from behind the dressing-table. Mum came up, alarmed by the noise.

“What are you doing?

“I want the screen up.”

“You’re being silly.”

“I’m not!” Doreen was close to tears. She got the screen into place and retreated behind it, to her own bed.

Mum followed her. “I told Rhoda she could have the bike. I know she was wrong to let you down, but refusing her the bike wouldn’t have made any difference.”

“It might have stopped her going.”

“And how would she have felt, then? She still wouldn’t have wanted to join in with you.”

“It’s not fair,” said Doreen. “She gets everything.”

“She doesn’t. I treat you all the same.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant…people. Lennie. Aunty Elsie.”

“Elsie does seem to like her,” Mum agreed.

“She used to like me.”

“Oh, Doreen! She loves you. You can love more than one person, you know. It isn’t rationed – not like butter.”

Doreen plucked at the patchwork quilt – the one Aunty Elsie had made her. “That Rhoda – she pushes in,” she muttered.

“Perhaps no one takes much notice of her back home,” suggested Mum. “If you could share Lennie and Aunty Elsie with her, while she’s here…It won’t be for ever.” She stood up briskly. “Why don’t you go and see Barbara?” Mum liked Barbara. “You might even feel like doing the show. I’ll turn up any road. I’ve got my ticket.”

“I don’t know,” said Doreen.

But she went to Barbara’s. Barbara was sitting on her back doorstep shelling peas. Her cat, Tiggy, was on her lap, struggling to get comfortable and nudging the colander out of his way.

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