More William by Richmal Crompton Page A

me. I’m going to have a crown and—’ She turned round in order to avoid the scowling gaze of William in the distance. William had discovered that his
scowl annoyed her, and since then had given it little rest. But there was no satisfaction in scowling at the back of her well-curled head, so he relaxed his scowl and let his gaze wander round the
playground. And it fell upon Bettine. Bettine was also standing by herself and gazing at Evangeline Fish. But she was not scowling. She was looking at Evangeline Fish with wistful envy. For
Evangeline Fish was ‘angelic’ and a May Queen, and she was neither of these things. William strolled over and lolled against the wall next to her.
    ‘’Ullo!’ he said, without looking at her, for this change of position had brought him again within range of Evangeline Fish’s eye, and he was once more simply one
concentrated scowl.
    ‘’Ullo,’ murmured Bettine shyly and politely.
    ‘You like pink rock?’ was William’s next effort.
    ‘Um,’ said Bettine, nodding emphatically.
    ‘I’ll give you some next time I buy some,’ said William munificently, ‘but I shan’t be buying any for a long time,’ he added bitterly, ‘’cause an
ole ball slipped out my hands on to our dining-room window before I noticed it yesterday.’
    She nodded understandingly.
    ‘I don’t mind!’ she said sweetly. ‘I’ll like you jus’ as much if you don’t give me any rock.’
    William blushed.
    ‘I di’n’t know you liked me,’ he said.
    ‘I do,’ she said fervently. ‘I like your face an’ I like the things you say.’
    William had forgotten to scowl. He was one flaming mixture of embarrassment and delight. He plunged his hands into his pockets and brought out two marbles, a piece of clay, and a broken toy
gun.
    ‘You can have ’em all,’ he said in reckless generosity.
    ‘You keep ’em for me,’ said Bettine sweetly. ‘I hope you dance next to me at the maypole when Evangeline’s Queen. Won’t it be lovely?’ and she
sighed.
    ‘Lovely?’ exploded William. ‘Huh!’
    ‘Won’t you like it?’ said Bettine wonderingly.
    ‘ Me! ’ exploded William again. ‘Dancin’ round a pole! Round that ole girl?’
    ‘But she’s so pretty.’
    ‘No, she isn’t,’ said William firmly, ‘she jus’ isn’t. Not much ! I don’ like her narsy shiny hair an’ I don’t like her narsy blue
clothes, an’ I don’ like her narsy face, an’ I don’t like her narsy white shoes, nor her narsy necklaces, nor her narsy squeaky voice—’
    He paused.
    Bettine drew a deep breath.
    ‘Go on some more,’ she said. ‘I like listening to you.’
    ‘Do you like her?’ said William.
    ‘No. She’s awful greedy. Did you know she was awful greedy !’
    ‘I can b’lieve it,’ said William. ‘I can b’lieve anything of anyone wot talks in that squeaky voice.’
    ‘Jus’ watch her when she’s eatin’ cakes – she goes on eatin’ and eatin’ and eatin’.’
    ‘She’ll bust an’ die one day then,’ prophesied William solemnly, ’an’ I shan’t be sorry.’
    ‘But she’ll look ever so beautiful when she’s a May Queen.’
    ‘You’d look nicer,’ said William.
    Bettine’s small pale face flamed.
    ‘Oh, no ,’ she said.
    ‘Would you like to be a May Queen?’
    ‘Oh, yes ,’ she said.
    ‘Um,’ said William, and returned to the discomfiture of Evangeline Fish by his steady concentrated scowl.
    The next day he had the opportunity of watching her eating cakes. They met at the birthday party of a mutual classmate, and Evangeline Fish took her stand by the table and consumed cakes with a
perseverance and determination worthy of a nobler cause. William accorded her a certain grudging admiration. Not once did she falter or faint. Iced cakes, cream cakes, pastries melted away before
her and never did she lose her ethereal angelic appearance. Tight golden ringlets, blue eyes, faintly flushed cheeks, vivid pale blue dress remained immaculate and unruffled,