Cassie Read Online Free PDF Page A

walked, she rubbed the edge of the bell with a wooden stick. A resonating hum, similar to the sound you make if you rub a wet finger along the rim of a wine glass, swelled through the house and caused the fillings in Holly’s teeth to throb. She sat on her newly-made bed in her newly-made bedroom and hugged her knees to her chest. Ivy ghosted in and out with her bell.
    Holly was tired. She seemed to have been scrubbing, cleaning and shifting stuff for days, rather than eight hours. When she moved her bed, she discovered a dust-coated land fill site of books, papers, assorted cuddly toys and the occasional spider. A small earthmover would have come in handy. Now it was all tidied away (under her bed again, in the spare room) her muscles tightened. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. She might have done – there were still a couple of hours before their guests were due to arrive – if it hadn’t been for her mother’s musical performance. No one could sleep through that.
    â€˜Mum,’ she snapped, the next time her mother slipped into her room. ‘What are you doing?’
    â€˜Cleansing, chicken,’ said Ivy, bracketing her words between chants.
    â€˜Cleansing?’
    â€˜Getting rid of any negative atmospheres, purifying the energy flow. Cleansing.’
    â€˜Well, can you stop it? I’d rather have the negative energy in here than that wailing sound. It’s giving me a headache.’
    Ivy put the bell down on a chest of drawers and sat on the bed. She reached out her hand and brushed Holly’s leg.
    â€˜I’m very proud of you, chicken,’ she said. ‘You’ve worked so hard and I know the sacrifice you’ve made.’
    No, you don’t, thought Holly, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.
    â€˜But we’ve made an amazing difference,’ continued Ivy. ‘So what do you think of your new room? I think it’s cosy.’
    Holly glanced round the bedroom. It didn’t take long. She had seen roomier shoe boxes. If she spread her arms she could touch two walls. If she had been a little taller, she might have been able to make contact with the ceiling as well, on which there was a disturbing stain directly above her bed. A vague smell, like the ghost of cat pee, hung in the air. Cosy was not the word Holly would have chosen. Depressing, maybe. Claustrophobic, certainly.
    â€˜It’s okay.’
    Ivy patted her knee.
    â€˜You take it easy, sweetie. Have a nap. I’ll get dinner started. I thought I’d do an eggplant and brown lentil lasagne. What do you think?’
    â€˜No, Mum. Please? Let’s have Chinese takeaway.’ Holly was too tired for diplomacy. And she felt she was owed – for the abandoned sleepover, the bedroom eviction and the hard labour. If she couldn’t be forthright now, she never would.
    â€˜Takeaway? Wouldn’t that be rude when we have guests?’ A lot less rude than forcing them to eat one of her mother’s concoctions, thought Holly. Then again, if there was ever going to be something that might get them to think staying at the Holley household was a serious and possibly life-threatening mistake, then an eggplant and lentil lasagne would undoubtedly do the trick. They’d probably be gone inside a week. Two days if her Mum was really on form. But a takeaway was what Holly craved and doubtless the home-cooking would begin again tomorrow. It would only be a deterrence factor deferred.
    â€˜No. They might not be vegetarians and if we order a variety of dishes we’ll cover all possible tastes,’ said Holly. Plus, their chicken and cashew nuts with fried rice is to die for, she thought.
    Ivy opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again.
    â€˜And there would be less washing up, and more time for catching up,’ said Holly.
    â€˜Okay,’ said Ivy. ‘It’s not a bad idea. And, to be honest, I could do with a little down time before they