Читать книгу Strangers at the Abbey - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 8

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“Don’t tell Rykie why you are living with us,” Joan warned Jen, as they drove to the station. “Just say you are staying at the Hall for a while. We don’t know her yet; she might resent the idea that you have come to help us.”

“To keep her in order; yes, she might get her back up,” Jen assented. “I’ll be careful. I’m staying with you, as I’ve done lots of times. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Quite right, and very natural. I’m sure it will be best.”

“I shall wait for you in the car,” Joy said, as she drew up at the station. “There’s no need for a whole mob to greet one infant.”

“But you want to see Belle, don’t you?” Joan asked. “She has half an hour to wait for a train back to town. I thought we’d give her coffee in the restaurant and have a talk with her.”

“I forgot Belle,” Joy acknowledged. “I’ll come, then. Yes, I’d like to see her. But I don’t really believe she’ll be there.”

“I hope she won’t have sent poor Rykie all alone to meet strangers,” Joan said.

“We’ll ask her what her mysterious job is in America,” Jen suggested. “I do hope she’ll come. I want to know what she’s like.”

They were standing together on the platform when the train drew in. After the usual bustle of arrival the crowd cleared, and the girls looked eagerly for their guests.

One small girl was left behind, standing by her suitcase and asking a porter to find her trunk.

“No Belle,” Joy said briefly. “I’m not surprised.”

Joan hurried forward, but Jen was before her. Rushing to the stranger, all her motherly instincts stirred, she cried, “Have you come quite alone? Oh, how dreadful for you! But we’re glad to see you; you’ll soon feel at home with us. You are Rykie, aren’t you?”

“I am Rykie,” the new girl assented, looking her up and down. “But who are you?”

“Jen is staying with us.” Joan came up. “I’m Joan, your cousin; and this is Joy, my cousin.”

“The one the house belongs to?” Rykie’s eyes rested thoughtfully on Joy.

The other three were looking curiously at her; Jen in simple wonder, Joan with astonished indignation. There would need to be changes in Rykie before she went to school.

The girl from Scotland had very fair hair, beside which Jen’s plaits looked yellow; it was shoulder-length and beautifully waved, in long smooth curls. Her lips were bright red; she was certainly wearing rouge and powder, and her fingernails matched her lips. She was, in fact, made up as completely as a film star.

“At fourteen!” Joan thought in horror.

Joy looked at Rykie and grinned in whole-hearted amusement. “Trying to impress the country cousins?” she asked pleasantly. “Or do you always go about looking a figure of fun?”

Rykie stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“I think you know,” Joan said brusquely. “But we won’t discuss your appearance here. Come along; the car’s outside. The sooner you get home and clean yourself up the better.”

“Oh, don’t you like make-up?” Rykie asked, with would-be innocence. “You don’t use any, do you?” She spoke, they all noticed, without a trace of Scottish accent.

“I shouldn’t think of it,” Joan retorted. “And you aren’t going to use it either, in our house. You may as well know that at once. If you don’t like the idea of having a clean face, you can go back to town; there’s a train in half an hour. What your sister can be thinking about to let you paint yourself like this at fourteen, I can’t imagine.”

“Oh, is it all put on?” Jen cried, listening wide-eyed. “I was thinking how pretty she is! But if it isn’t real, that’s different.”

“It isn’t real,” Joan assured her. “Are you coming, or are you going back to town, Rykie?”

“Oh, I’m coming,” Rykie said, rather sulkily. “I don’t want to go back. But it’s not your house; it’s hers,” with a glance under her long lashes at Joy.

“It’s mine,” Joy assented. “But anything that Joan says goes, with me, and don’t you forget it. Besides, I don’t want a stage puppet in my house. Your Belle must be mad. Fourteen!”

“Belle makes up herself,” Rykie said heatedly. “She has to look nice, meeting people as she does. She must be up to date.”

“Nice!” said Joan. “Look here, Rykie! We don’t want to be unkind, when you’ve just arrived, but you’ve been a bit of a shock, you know. I dare say when you’ve got that stuff off your face and hands, we may like you quite a lot. It must be more Belle’s fault than yours; we’ll be fair and remember that. But to us you look—well, completely unsuitable and even silly.”

“Of course, I suppose it doesn’t matter how one looks here.” And Rykie flung a doubtful glance round.

“It matters that you mustn’t look like a little old woman when you’re only a schoolgirl,” Joan informed her. “When we get home you’ll go straight upstairs and wash your face before Mother sees you. You couldn’t kiss her with all that lipstick on. She’d be upset, if she saw you like this.”

“She’d have forty fits,” Joy said, taking her place at the wheel. “Jen will lead you to the bathroom as soon as we arrive. And before we start, my child, I’ve one thing to say. As you reminded us, it’s my house, and I’m willing you should live in it. But if you do one single thing to worry or upset Aunty, you’ll be fired; you’ll go right back to town in double quick time. I will not have anything to bother Aunty. She isn’t strong; I won’t have her made ill. So be careful, if you want to stay with us.”

“You couldn’t send me back to town!” Rykie cried. “Belle’s starting to-morrow!”

“Oh, couldn’t we? We know the address of that lawyer-guardian-trustee; Belle gave it to us. I could easily run you up to London and dump you in his office, if you don’t fall in with the ways of the house.” And Joy looked capable of it, as she drove carefully out into the traffic.

Rykie said nothing for a time, but sat looking very thoughtful. “It’s a nice car,” she remarked at last.

Joy warmed towards her at once. “She’s new,” she said. “We had a tiny run-about at first.”

“This is much jollier. You drive well, don’t you?”

Joy grinned; this sounded very much like an attempt to soften her hard heart. “I’m very keen on driving.”

Joan in the back seat was sitting between Jen and Rykie, saying nothing, but looking troubled. Her new cousin seemed likely to be a bit of a problem.

Jen squeezed her arm. “Joan! Will she show me how she does it?”

Joan looked startled. “How who does what, Jenny-Wren?”

“How she puts that stuff on. I’d like to see her do it.”

Joan knit her brows. “I dare say Rykie would show you. Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious. I know grown-up people do it. I want to see how it’s done.”

“You can ask her. But I shouldn’t have thought it would appeal to you in the least.”

“Oh, it doesn’t!” Jen assured her. “I only want to know how she does it; I’d never want to do it myself. I think she looks horrible.”

Joan laughed in relief. “I thought you said it was pretty?”

“It is, in a way. But now that I know it’s just stuck on, I don’t like it. She looks like a very posh doll in a shop window. And—whisper, Joan!”

Joan bent, not very far, for Jen was tall.

“Her nails are awful!” Jen murmured. “I’ve seen shopgirls with hands like that. I loathe red nails!”

“You’re very sound,” Joan said. “I loathe them myself.”

Rykie was watching them. “What are you whispering about?”

Jen crimsoned. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude. I asked Joan if she thought you’d show me how you do it; make yourself look like that, you know.”

Joy gave a smothered chuckle. “Jen, if you begin painting your nails and lips, I’ll fling you out too.”

“You don’t understand,” Rykie said defiantly. “I use make-up because Belle does.”

“Then Belle ought to be ashamed of herself, for setting her young sister such a bad example,” Joy said.

“Belle must do it. She’d look dreadful, if she didn’t. Everybody does, where she is. She’s going to Hollywood; didn’t she tell you?”

“Hollywood!” Joan exclaimed. “Do you mean——?”

“Gosh!” cried Jen. “Has Joan got a cousin who’s a film star?”

“How extremely unsuitable!” Joy grinned broadly. “How completely unlike Aunty and Joan!”

“Belle’s always been good at acting.” Rykie’s tone was full of pride. “A man saw her and said she’d be a success in pictures. He gave her a test and they said she was just right. She had a small part in a film, made in a London studio, and then she had an offer from Hollywood. She’s off to-morrow morning.”

“I’m stunned and breathless!” Joy said solemnly. “So that’s Belle’s mysterious job, is it?”

“We didn’t understand.” Joan spoke gently. “It helps to explain you, Rykie. I hope Belle will be successful, though I can’t think it will be a pleasant life. But it’s full of glamour, I suppose. I wouldn’t care for it myself.”

Jen chuckled. “I can’t see you as a film star, Joan dear.”

“We understand now,” Joan went on. “If Belle is in film circles, I’ve no doubt make-up is essential and she’s had no choice. But for you, here in the country, it’s quite unsuitable. So you will get rid of it, as far as you can, when we reach the house, won’t you?”

“Oh, I suppose so, if you feel like that.” Rykie’s tone was grudging. “But it’s awfully old-fashioned not to use make-up.”

“Not in the country,” Joan said, quietly but firmly. “You’ve come to live in the country. You must get used to country ways.”

“Where does Belle sail from to-morrow?” Joy asked. “Southampton? Liverpool?”

“She isn’t sailing. Some people she knows are flying and they managed to get her a seat in the plane. Hollywood wants her in a hurry,” Rykie said importantly.

“Flying!” Joy exclaimed. “Gosh, I’d love to fly! Some day I shall try it. Belle’s in luck.”

“I don’t think I’d like it,” Jen ventured.

Joan smiled at her. “You aren’t likely to have the chance at present, Jenny-Wren.”

“Why do they call you that?” Rykie demanded.

Jen reddened. “It’s daft. It’s terribly silly, but everybody at school does it. My name’s Jen Robins, and robins and wrens seem to go together in some people’s stupid minds. They called me Jenny-Wren, and it stuck.”

“It doesn’t suit her,” Joan laughed. “Wrens are little and Jen’s big. But it’s her pet name and she can’t get rid of it.”

“Where does she live?”

“I’m a boarder at school, but I live in Yorkshire, on the moors near Sheffield.” Jen spoke for herself.

“Then why——?” Rykie began.

“I’m staying with Joan. I often do.”

“We like to have her at the Hall,” Joy said seriously. “Joan and I are so terribly old and staid. It brightens the house to have some young life about.”

Jen grinned. “I do my best to cheer you up. Rykie will help, I expect.”