Riding With The Lyntons by Diana Pullein-Thompson

Riding With The Lyntons by Diana Pullein-Thompson

Author:Diana Pullein-Thompson [Pullein-Thompson, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Epona Publishing
Published: 2019-03-25T16:00:00+00:00


“I’m Doctor Phillips. Your father telephoned me to come and see your mother. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday,” said the bald man.

I picked up the spade and started to climb out of the window.

“I shall have to dig the snow away from the door before you can get in,” I told him.

“Hi, wait a moment,” said Doctor Phillips. “Perhaps I can squeeze in through that window and save you the trouble. Will that snow there stand my weight without skis do you think?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I’m sinking now a bit myself. It’s pretty soft.”

“I can have a try I suppose. You pop back in. Where’s your father?”

“In bed, too, with flu.”

“Dear, oh dear, what a sad state of affairs,” remarked Doctor Phillips unbuckling his skis and, with an enormous effort, scrambling through the window.

“I’ve left my car up on the big road,” he explained. “It’s wonderful to have an excuse and chance to ski in England. You should make your parents get you some skis and have a shot yourself.”

“Everything depends on Forget Not Thy Cloak. I’ll take you up to them now,” I said, and then I shouted to my parents, so that they should be prepared, “Here’s Dr Phillips. He’s just arrived on skis. I’m bringing him up.”

I left him in their bedroom and started to dig snow away from the front door. It was a strange beautiful night without darkness, and now that snow was falling again, it had grown warmer. The earlier wind had swept the branches of our oak clear and they stood naked against the whiteness of the sky. The hedges either side of the lane were like wide banks, for the snow had been swept up against them, and the trees close by looked short and stumpy as the snow mounted higher and higher against their trunks. Now that the doctor had come I felt sure my parents would be all right and, for the first time since Jingle’s death, I started to sing. Magic sat by the window watching me wistfully. She wanted to be out too. But I was afraid she might fall into a snowdrift and disappear for ever, and so I made her stay indoors.

I had just cleared away enough to open the front door a few inches when Dr Phillips reappeared.

“It’s only flu,” he said. “Nothing to worry about, and I’ve given them some medicine.”

“I’m so glad you’ve come,” I said.

“I killed two birds with one stone, actually, because I had a call from the Lyntons. Mrs Lynton and Gillian are down with it, too. The others are all right, though.”

I felt a stab of remorse as I saw Jingle again in that terrible night at the roadside.

“Do you know anything about Jon’s arm?” I asked.

“He’s not out of hospital yet,” said the doctor. “But he’ll be absolutely all right in the end. You know them I suppose.”

“Well, yes. They let me ride one of their ponies,” I told him.

“Get on all right with Mr Lynton?” asked the doctor.



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