The Little One [Quick Read 2012] Read Online Free PDF

Margaret gave an odd half-smile, as if she knew Barbara had been lying.
    ‘Is there a local taxi that could take me to the station?’
    Margaret checked an old notebook hanging on a piece of string by the phone.
    ‘I have a few numbers. Let me call the station first and see what times the trains are running to London.’
    She looked up, smiling.
    ‘If the worst comes to the worst, I can drive you.’
    Margaret discovered there was a direct train at five fifteen, but the local taxi service was engaged.
    ‘You could stay on here. Do you have something to get back to London for?’ Margaret asked.
    ‘I don’t actually. I was going to look for a place to live,’ Barbara replied.
    Margaret placed more logs on to the fire, making a really big blaze. The kitchen was as warm as toast.
    ‘Do you play Scrabble?’ she asked, as she opened a wooden box and delved inside.
    ‘Yes, I do.’
    ‘Shall we have a game?’
    Margaret opened the board and with childish enthusiasm began counting out the letters. Then she looked up, listening.
    ‘The wind is picking up. It howls round the house. Always sounds a lot worse than it is. Everything rattles.’
    They played for over an hour. Margaret was very competitive and won every game. She called the taxi company again, but they were booked out for the afternoon.
    ‘Maybe we shouldn’t even think about your leaving today. I can fix up a bedroom for you, or you can stay down here as it’s so warm.’
    Barbara didn’t hesitate. Another evening, another chance to gather more information.
    ‘I’ll stay over if you don’t mind.’
    Margaret patted Barbara’s cheek.
    ‘Of course I don’t mind. In fact, I’m really enjoying your company. I like you.’
    ‘I like you too,’ Barbara said.
    She blushed when Margaret caught hold of her hand and kissed her fingers.
    ‘I need a friend. Are you going to be a friend, Barbara?’
    Barbara paused and then said softly, ‘I would like to be your friend.’

 
Chapter Six
    It grew dark quickly that afternoon and the snow never stopped falling.
    Margaret said she would go and check upstairs. She wanted to make sure that the plumbing was behaving itself.
    ‘I won’t be long. Sometimes the pipes get frozen if I don’t run the hot water.’
    Barbara was disconcerted to realize that Margaret had locked the kitchen door after she left.
    The phone rang, breaking into the silence. It was Alan. Barbara explained she would be staying over another night because of the snow. Alan was relieved, as he didn’t feel like driving to
collect her.
    ‘Just don’t go nosing around. She’s a very private lady,’ he warned, and rang off.
    The old house creaked and moaned. Barbara could hear the rattle of pipes, but then she
heard something else.
    ‘Stay in your room and behave yourself, do you hear me?’
    Barbara sat bolt upright. There were running footsteps, followed by silence. She was startled when the key turned in the locked kitchen door.
    Margaret came in looking very agitated and pocketed the key.
    ‘Is everything all right?’ Barbara asked.
    ‘Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?’ Margaret snapped, then she began to bang around the kitchen, preparing supper. Her radical mood change was unnerving.
    Sitting by the fire as Margaret busied herself cooking, Barbara was certain she heard soft footsteps running above her. She wondered again if there was someone else in the house. Was it the
person who had pushed her down the stairs?
    ‘Sometimes in old houses you hear strange noises,’ she ventured.
    ‘It’s the hot-water pipes,’ Margaret said sharply.
    Again the footsteps sounded above her and Barbara looked up to the ceiling. There was an old slatted wooden airer, with a rope attached. It was shaking, just a fraction.
    ‘Watch the rice for me. I won’t be a minute,’ Margaret said, then hurried out.
    Barbara pressed her ear against the locked door. She distinctly heard Margaret running up the stairs. She could also hear her talking, but could