Читать книгу The Path to the Sea - Liz Fenwick - Страница 27
Оглавление3 August 1962, 7.45 p.m.
As her father popped his head through the door, Diana put down her book, To Kill a Mockingbird and slid it under the blanket.
‘How are you, my darling one?’ he asked, coming to sit on her bed. He was so handsome in his dinner jacket. She thought he looked handsome all the time, but tonight he had twinkling eyes. ‘Did you have a good day?’
She smiled and nodded but decided not to say it would have been better if it had just been the two of them. He would make a face and might become cross. He’d been cross a lot lately.
‘I’m pleased.’ He brushed her hair off her face and put his hand on the book moving it into sight. He squinted at it. ‘Are you enjoying the story?’
‘Yes.’ Looking at it, she frowned.
‘It’s rather serious, isn’t it?’
Nodding, she said, ‘But I am serious, Daddy, and many things in the world aren’t right.’
He put a hand over hers and stroked it. ‘And this worries you?’
She bit her lip, thinking. ‘I can’t do anything right now because I am too little, but one day I want to make a difference.’ Crossing her arms against her chest, she sat straighter.
He smiled. ‘Then I know you will.’
‘I think, like Uncle Tom said, I will try and make a difference with words.’
‘Did he say that?’
‘He said I was good with words.’
‘Uncle Tom likes words.’ He looked out the window and frowned.
She could hear the rain hitting the window. Was he cross about the rain?
‘But enough about Uncle Tom. Are you ready for a day’s sailing tomorrow?’
‘Of course. How many people will be with us?’
He laughed. ‘That is a good question and the success of tonight will tell me how many we will have tomorrow.’
‘It will be a success. Mummy always has successes.’
‘That she does, my little one. Your mother is the best hostess ever and very clever to boot.’
‘Are hostesses not clever?’ She wrinkled her nose. Most of the ladies she knew were hostesses. Were they not clever? She didn’t like that idea.
‘I’m not going to comment on that one, but your mother is a rare breed.’
‘Breed? Like a dog or an exotic bird?’
He stood. ‘You know, Diana, you are good with words.’
‘Thank you. I learned a new one today.’ She grinned. ‘Perceptive.’
‘Good word.’ He picked up her new diary on the desk. ‘Where did you hear it?
‘Mummy.’
‘Really?’ He tilted his head and his eyes met hers. ‘Who was perceptive?’
‘Uncle Tom.’
He put the diary down. ‘Of course. That’s the perfect word for Uncle Tom.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Have you started the diary yet?’
‘Yes, just a little while ago.’
‘Are you keeping it secret?’
She nodded. ‘Diaries are supposed to be secret. It’s for me only.’
‘Then make sure you keep it safe.’ He tapped it then blew her a kiss as he left the room. Diana picked up her diary and looked at what she had written so far.
PRIVATE
This belongs to Diana Trewin of Boskenna
She turned the page.
3 August 1962
Dear Diary,
I’m still not sure what to write about in this diary that Uncle Tom has given me. It is so beautiful. It’s bright red. It’s mine!
Today was mostly boring. The sailing was good but Daddy and I spent too much time with Mr and Mrs Venn. No one but me will read this so I can say that I don’t like them and no one can tell me not to say it. I want Mummy with us but although they haven’t told me I know Mummy isn’t sailing because she lost the baby a little while ago and she’s tired. I never saw the baby and that makes me sad.
Right now I’m thinking about the raspberries and cream that I had. Not for my pudding. It was more second pudding, I think, like the Hobbit’s second breakfast. Daddy finished reading The Hobbit to me two nights ago. My tummy is rumbling again. I wonder if they have even started dinner downstairs yet. They always eat so late. Maybe I’ll sneak downstairs after I read another chapter.
Running her finger over the words, she knew she would have to work harder if it was to be interesting to read. It was boring. She needed to be more perceptive in what she wrote, she decided.
