somewhere, her hair flying and her mouth open, yelling to them to get inside. They bundled in and she flew into the house after them, gasping for breath, and slammed and bolted the door, leaning back against it with her chest heaving and her hair drooping out of its pins. She and Lil stared wide-eyed at each other.
âDid he say anything?
Vera shook her head.
âDid he go for you?
She nodded.
âHellâs bells.
For the rest of the afternoon they stayed bolted in the house in a state of siege, with someone on lookout at the upstairs window for when the boys came back from fishing. Lil thought they should phone Dick, but Vera said to wait and see how Gilbert was when he calmed down. They waited for him to turn up at the house, with or without his rake. By nighttime he still hadnât come; they went to bed with the back door bolted but left the outhouses open so he would have somewhere warm to sleep.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
In the morning Ann said that Gus was acting funny. Vera went out to see if Gilbert was anywhere around; she even went down to the rhine and back, treading carefully in her slippers in the dew, looking for her shoes beside the path.
âGone, she said, heâs gone.
The sisters looked at each other in consternation.
âWhat will he do? said Lil.
âWhat shall I tell Dr. Gurton? Vera wailed.
They stuffed her shoes with newspaper and put them to dry, while they used the telephone to call the hospital, long distance.
âLook at Gus, said Ann. Thereâs something wrong with him.
The geese were in the yard, wanting to be fed. Gus stood apart from the others, his wings half open and dragging, his eyes filmed over. He wouldnât let any of them come near himâhe flapped and struggled if they triedâbut they could see his neck was twisted, with an ugly lump in it, and he couldnât hold up his head. Vera sent Martin to call Farmer Brookes, who came round to have a look.
âHowâs he gone and done that? the farmer said.
âWe donât know, said Vera and Lil together.
âWe just found him like that, when we got up this morning, Lil added.
The farmer persuaded Gus that he meant well, and Gus let him probe gently with his fingers into the creamy neck.
âLooks like itâs broken, Iâm afraid, poor old chappie. Got caught, maybe, in a bit of wire or something; although heâs not cut himself. Got any apples left to make sauce? Might as well put him out of his misery, Mrs. Stevenson. Want me to see to it?
Farmer Brookes carried Gus off through the orchard in the morning sunshine, holding him around the middle; Gus opened his wings so that it looked as though the farmer as he walked was wrestling with an angel. Ann wouldnât watch him go; she sank down on the doorstep with her head buried in her arms in grief. They told the Brookeses to eat the goose themselves.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
When joyce came back from paris, she caught the last bus out of the city to the docks; she had arranged to telephone from the Docks Police Station for Vera to come and pick her up in the car. The bus was crowded. A horrible old sailor with gray stubbly cheeks and breath that reeked of drink fell asleep beside her, and his head rolled onto her shoulder so many times that she gave up trying to push him off. She concentrated all her efforts on keeping Paris intact inside herâcoffee and bread and Dior and wine and a little restaurant with red-checked tablecloths on the Boulâ Michâso as not to lose one precious drop in collision with the ugly things of home. She had felt instantly, intimately, that she belonged to Paris; miraculously, she had seemed to understand what the Parisians said to her, far beyond the reach of her schoolgirl French. When the bus stopped and all the passengers shuffled up to get off, she realized with a shock that Daphne had been sitting all the time only a couple of seats behind her. Joyce had to pull
âDid he say anything?
Vera shook her head.
âDid he go for you?
She nodded.
âHellâs bells.
For the rest of the afternoon they stayed bolted in the house in a state of siege, with someone on lookout at the upstairs window for when the boys came back from fishing. Lil thought they should phone Dick, but Vera said to wait and see how Gilbert was when he calmed down. They waited for him to turn up at the house, with or without his rake. By nighttime he still hadnât come; they went to bed with the back door bolted but left the outhouses open so he would have somewhere warm to sleep.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
In the morning Ann said that Gus was acting funny. Vera went out to see if Gilbert was anywhere around; she even went down to the rhine and back, treading carefully in her slippers in the dew, looking for her shoes beside the path.
âGone, she said, heâs gone.
The sisters looked at each other in consternation.
âWhat will he do? said Lil.
âWhat shall I tell Dr. Gurton? Vera wailed.
They stuffed her shoes with newspaper and put them to dry, while they used the telephone to call the hospital, long distance.
âLook at Gus, said Ann. Thereâs something wrong with him.
The geese were in the yard, wanting to be fed. Gus stood apart from the others, his wings half open and dragging, his eyes filmed over. He wouldnât let any of them come near himâhe flapped and struggled if they triedâbut they could see his neck was twisted, with an ugly lump in it, and he couldnât hold up his head. Vera sent Martin to call Farmer Brookes, who came round to have a look.
âHowâs he gone and done that? the farmer said.
âWe donât know, said Vera and Lil together.
âWe just found him like that, when we got up this morning, Lil added.
The farmer persuaded Gus that he meant well, and Gus let him probe gently with his fingers into the creamy neck.
âLooks like itâs broken, Iâm afraid, poor old chappie. Got caught, maybe, in a bit of wire or something; although heâs not cut himself. Got any apples left to make sauce? Might as well put him out of his misery, Mrs. Stevenson. Want me to see to it?
Farmer Brookes carried Gus off through the orchard in the morning sunshine, holding him around the middle; Gus opened his wings so that it looked as though the farmer as he walked was wrestling with an angel. Ann wouldnât watch him go; she sank down on the doorstep with her head buried in her arms in grief. They told the Brookeses to eat the goose themselves.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
When joyce came back from paris, she caught the last bus out of the city to the docks; she had arranged to telephone from the Docks Police Station for Vera to come and pick her up in the car. The bus was crowded. A horrible old sailor with gray stubbly cheeks and breath that reeked of drink fell asleep beside her, and his head rolled onto her shoulder so many times that she gave up trying to push him off. She concentrated all her efforts on keeping Paris intact inside herâcoffee and bread and Dior and wine and a little restaurant with red-checked tablecloths on the Boulâ Michâso as not to lose one precious drop in collision with the ugly things of home. She had felt instantly, intimately, that she belonged to Paris; miraculously, she had seemed to understand what the Parisians said to her, far beyond the reach of her schoolgirl French. When the bus stopped and all the passengers shuffled up to get off, she realized with a shock that Daphne had been sitting all the time only a couple of seats behind her. Joyce had to pull
Similar Books
![Sacrifices of the Siren [Sirens and Sailors 6] (Siren Publishing Allure)](https://fs.ageofbook.com/501617/thumbs/152x264/sacrifices-of-the-siren-sirens-and-sailors-6-siren-publishing-allure.jpg)
