The Secret Hen House Theatre Read Online Free PDF

wondering if we could maybe use the tractor-shed loft?”
    “Use it? For what?” His voice was tetchy. Hannah took a little step backwards.
    “Well, errmm, as a theatre.” Even the word theatre sounded strange in that room.
    “Theatre?” Her father mouthed the word as if it had an unpleasant taste. “Ha!”
    He went back to his typing. Bash, bash, bash, with his huge rough fingers.
    Hannah turned to Lottie, hovering in the doorway. Lottie stepped back out of the room and beckoned. Hannah tiptoed around the heaps of paper and followed her into the corridor.
    “We’ve got to tell him why we want it,” Lottie whispered. “Describe how good it’s going to be.”
    “Why would that work?”
    “Well, your mum used to act before she was married, didn’t she?”
    “Yes, exactly. Before she got married.”
    “Well, maybe if he knew how much you love theatre? He knows you won the Year Six Drama Cup, doesn’t he? So he knows how good you are. Go on, talk to him.”
    “Hmm,” said Hannah, but she weaved her way back through the obstacles, her heart beating faster. Over the past two days, the wonderful vision of her theatre had taken over her head. Lottie was right. It was worth a try.
    “Dad, you know I wrote a play?”
    “Eh?”
    “It fell in the mud but I’m writing it out again. And we’ve got loads of ideas for more. You see, there’s this drama competition we really want to enter, and we thought if we made a real theatre in the tractor-shed loft we could act the plays out properly, and Lottie can sew and she could make amazing costumes, and we’d make scenery and—”
    Now he raised his head, a deep frown on his face. “You want to take over the tractor-shed loft to use as a theatre ?”
    “Yes.”
    “And what about everything that’s in there?”
    Hannah glanced at Lottie, who had stayed in the doorway. “Well, we thought maybe we could help you sort through it.”
    “Oh, did you?” He glared at Hannah. “Do you think I haven’t got enough on my plate at the moment? I’ve just had Martha pestering for a television in the house. A television! So she can sit about night after night goggling at drivel. And now you come up here asking for the tractor-shed loft! Have you all gone mad?”
    “We could clear it out ourselves.”
    He banged his fist on the desk, raising clouds of dust from the disintegrating blotting paper. “Don’t you even think of messing about with all that stuff yourselves! You’ve got no idea what any of it is; you’ll get yourselves injured. And that floor up there isn’t sound. You’d end up falling through it and breaking your legs, and the last thing I need is to be taking one of you to hospital. For goodness’ sake, this is a farm,not a playground. Haven’t you got better things to do than mess about with plays?”
    Something in Hannah made her persist.
    “ Please , Dad. I know you don’t like theatre, but I love it. I love it just like Mum did.” She saw his face tighten, but she had to go on. “I can’t be just the same as you. You love your animals. This is what I love. Please, could I just have this?”
    Her father jumped up from his chair and suddenly he was towering above her, silhouetted by the dim light from the window.
    Hannah took a step back.
    Was he angry?
    Or was he upset?
    “Get out!” he yelled. “Just get out! I’ve got work to do, for goodness’ sake. Just leave me in peace!”
    Hannah was already stumbling out of the room. Her vision blurry with tears, she caught her foot on a pile of folders.
    “Aarghh!” she cried as her knee crashed on to the splintered floorboards. “Ow!”
    She shot out her hand and pushed over a heap of plastic wallets. They slithered across the floor, spilling their contents like an oil slick.
    Hannah scrambled to her feet, trying to pile the papers back together.
    “Leave them alone!” shouted her dad. “Don’t touch anything! Just get out!”

Chapter Six
The Photograph
    Hannah limped into the corridor,