Eight Days of Luke Read Free Page A

throwing David another malicious look.
    Uncle Bernard, frail and puzzled, looked up at David.
    â€œIt’s chewing gum,” David confessed wretchedly. How it had got stuck to the mat on his dressing table, he could not imagine. He supposed he must have put it down there while he was hunting for clothes. But he knew it was all up for him now.
    â€œChewing gum? In my house!” said Uncle Bernard.
    â€œHow simply filthy!” said Aunt Dot.
    Astrid and Cousin Ronald closed in again then too, while Mrs. Thirsk, looking like the Triumph of Righteousness, briskly planked a plate of stiff, cold chocolate pudding in front of David. Such of it as David managed to eat tasted as thick and brown as the rest of supper. As the row went on, as all four of his relations continued to clamor how disgusting he was and Mrs. Thirsk to shoot smug looks at him, David resolved bitterly, vengefully, that if it was the last thing he did, he would tell Mrs. Thirsk how rotten her food was.
    It ended with David being sent up to bed. By that time he was quite glad to go.

2
THE SECOND TROUBLE
    T he next day was hot and sunny. David got out of bed deciding that he would walk the three miles to the recreation ground after breakfast. There were almost certain to be boys playing cricket there, and a little artful hanging around fielding stray balls should earn him a game quite easily. He was half dressed when Mrs. Thirsk came in. She was carrying an armful of clothes.
    â€œYour Aunt Dot had me look these out for you,” she said. “Your Cousin Ronald is too well-built for them these days. The trousers won’t fit too bad if you turn them up round the waist. You can hold them up with a belt, can’t you?”
    David eyed the armful with horror as Mrs. Thirsk dumped it on the bed. “I suppose so,” he said, and decided he would rather die than wear Cousin Ronald’s castoffs.
    â€œAnd don’t say you will and then not wear them,” said Mrs. Thirsk. “I know you. You’ll do what your Aunt wants for once, you will.”
    â€œAll right,” said David.
    â€œIt had better be all right, or I’ll tell your Uncle,” said Mrs. Thirsk turning to go.
    By that, David knew he was condemned to wear the things and misery made him angry. “Your food isn’t,” he said to Mrs. Thirsk’s back.
    â€œIsn’t what?” demanded Mrs. Thirsk, turning round quickly.
    â€œIsn’t all right. It’s horrible. I never tasted such horrible stuff,” said David.
    Mrs. Thirsk’s blunt face went purple. She said not a word, but she slammed the door as she went out. David laughed.
    He stopped laughing when he saw himself in Cousin Ronald’s clothes—though he was afraid that most other people would laugh their heads off. The trousers were far too loose, belt them as he would, and the large fawn sweater flared out over them like a ballet skirt. Cousin Ronald had been what Mrs. Thirsk called well-built most of his life. David blushed when he looked in the mirror. The only comfort was that the wide trousers were not at all too long—it was pleasant to think that he was suddenly the same height as Cousin Ronald and going to end up taller—but the rest of him was so grotesque that he knew he would have to give up going to the recreation ground. He dared not show himself to anyone looking like this.
    He was so ashamed of his appearance that he dashed down to the dining room before anyone else was up and—in a great hurry to get away before Astrid or someone came in and started to laugh at him—shook all the toast out of the toast-rack on to the tablecloth. He put butter on all of it and marmalade on half, and quantities went on the cloth because he was in such a hurry. He arranged it in a stack that he could carry, seized the radio from the sideboard to provide entertainment, and made off with the lot through the French window to the end of the garden where he could