Cindy Jones Read Free

Jim said. He hesitated, going red under his tan. “I don’t suppose you would let me take Hooper with me? I’d take good care of him.”
    â€œThat’s a terrific idea,” Cindy agreed.
    She explained that Hooper’s lead always hung in the laundry and told Jim to shut the gate firmly when he returned him.
    â€œI’ll drop by tonight and collect him,” Jim promised.
    â€œYoo-hoo, Cindy. Are you home?” The familiar voice rose over the noise of the chainsaws.
    Cindy glared at Constance and Prunella, marching into her back yard as though they owned it.
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    â€œJust visiting,” Constance drawled. She nudged Prunella, blinking her eyes up at Jim. “What are you doing here, Jim Plumstead?”
    â€œMaking friends with Hooper,” he explained. “Goodbye, Constance and Prunella. See you later, Cindy.”
    â€œFancy you knowing the fabulous Jim,” Prunella said with a titter.
    â€œA spunk and a dream,” Constance sighed.
    â€œWhat right has your mother got to order all our trees cut down?” Cindy demanded.
    â€œProfessor Jones said she can get everything cleaned up before we shift in,” Constance said smugly.
    â€œAnd we’re going to help Mother clean up inside over the weekend,” Prunella added.
    â€œMy father won’t let you touch his belongings,” Cindy warned. “Or are you going to crate him outside with his books?”
    â€œYah, yah, yah, smarty Cindy Jones,” Prunella sniggered. “The professor gave Mother a free hand to do anything she wants to.”
    Cindy shoved hard. Prunella shrieked and fell backwards into the pool. She struggled to the surface almost immediately. The water was only waist deep.
    Long strands of green slime and dead leaves clung to her. She opened her mouth and shrieked again. The sounds of the chainsaws stopped and workmen came running.
    â€œIs she all right?” someone called.
    â€œOf course she is,” Cindy retorted. “She fell into the shallow end.”
    â€œYou pushed me.” Prunella sobbed.
    The men turned away, and the chainsaws started up their noise again.
    â€œMother was right,” Constance spat out. “You’re so immature. The sooner you get some discipline the better.” She steadied Prunella as she sloshed up the steps. “Don’t cry, you sook. You’re just wet and filthy.”
    Prunella kept on sobbing. Her pale slacks and white blouse were stained and muddy, dripping slime and leaves, and her hair dripped lank and straight over her face.
    â€œCome into the laundry and have a hot shower,” Cindy suggested, feeling ashamed of the impulse that had caused her to push Prunella so hard.
    Prunella followed her into the laundry, still sniffling. Cindy gave her a clean towel and a cake of soap and turned on the hot water.
    â€œDon’t you have any proper scented soap, and where’s the shampoo?” Prunella demanded through her hiccupping sobs.
    â€œDaddy doesn’t like perfumed soap, and we never use any commercial shampoos,” Cindy said.
    She found a clean pair of jeans and underclothes, but hesitated over a top. Her shirts and jumpers were too small for Prunella. She decided on an old jumper of her father’s.
    Apart from the jeans being too short, Prunella looked almost respectable after her shower, except her hair was now as straight as Cindy’s.
    â€œI’m really sorry,” Cindy apologized as she handed over a hairbrush, but Prunella ignored her.
    â€œThe sooner Mother gets you under control the better,” Constance threatened, wrapping the dripping clothes in the towel.
    â€œYou just wait, Cindy Jones,” Prunella added as she slammed the front gate behind them. “Mother will fix you for being so nasty.”
    â€œI couldn’t be as nasty as your mother,” Cindy yelled at their departing backs.
    Inside she felt scared and panicky. The Barry