Unwritten Books 3 - The Young City Read Online Free PDF Page B

Edmund’s bedroom. The door opened a crack. “Don’t laugh.”
    Rosemary rolled her eyes. “I won’t. Come on out.”
    The door opened the rest of the way and Peter entered the kitchen. His expression soured and Rosemary knew he’d spotted the quirk in her mouth. She bit her lip, but her shoulders betrayed her.
    While Rosemary was Faith’s height and girth, Peter towered almost a foot over Edmund. Cuffs bit into his wrists and his trousers ended halfway up his shins. Peter’s glare hardened as Rosemary struggled to hold back her giggles.
    Then Faith burst out laughing. Peter threw up his hands.
    “I’m sorry,” said Faith, bringing her laughter under control. “But ’tis the best we can do.”
    “What am I going to do?” moaned Peter. “I’ll go down to my church tomorrow,” said Faith. “I’ll see what they have in the poor box.”
    Peter sighed. “This will have to do, then. One more thing for the shopping list.”
    Edmund strode into the kitchen, stopped, and looked Rosemary up and down. “Ah! I knew Faith would find a use for those old clothes. You wear them well. Is supper ready, Faith? I could eat a horse!”
    At the mention of dinner, Peter and Rosemary’s stomachs grumbled. They stood at Edmund’s shoulder as Faith inspected the stew, testing it with a ladle before nodding and pouring the ladleful into a bowl. She clopped to the kitchen table without a word, leaving Edmund to ladle out his own bowl and join her. Peterand Rosemary followed. Edmund had his spoon halfway to his lips when Faith cleared her throat and fixed him with a sharp glare. He put down his spoon and leaned forward into grace.
    The moment “Amen” left his lips, Edmund attacked his stew, Faith not far behind. Peter and Rosemary were left staring a moment before they took up their spoons. Everybody ate with little thought to decorum. Edmund fetched himself a second bowl.
    “Now that we have you clothed and fed,” said Faith, cutting off a hunk of bread, “we must talk about shelter.”
    “But you’ve done so much for us already,” Rosemary began.
    “Least I could do for fellow Watsons,” said Edmund. He swallowed. “We have an apartment over our store, beside Faith’s room. Faith and I used to rent it out, but it’s been empty for a month.”
    “How are we going to pay you back for all this?” said Rosemary.
    “I have a suggestion.” Faith picked up a sheet of paper from the counter. She passed it to Rosemary.
    Edmund peered over her shoulder and said, “Your university application?”
    Rosemary blinked. Then she understood. “You’re applying to university?”
    Faith shook her head. “I’m already attending, I’m only applying for more classes. I take a class here, a class there, fitting things around my work. ’Tis a slowway to get an education. But now you are here.”
    Edmund stared. “Faith?”
    “You can cook?” Faith asked Rosemary.
    Rosemary drew into herself. “Some things.”
    “And you can man a shop counter as well as I could,” said Faith.
    “Faith,” Edmund cut in. “It takes skill to sell in a shop! You know that!”
    “I’ve manned counters before, though,” said Rosemary. “I helped staff a library ... where I was before.”
    “See?” Faith beamed at Edmund. “If Rosemary could take three hours a day, or four, I could take two extra classes and graduate a whole year sooner!”
    Edmund sat back. He picked up his spoon and started on his third helping of stew. “Time is one thing. What of money?”
    “There is my sewing,” said Faith. “I could take on another batch to pay the extra cost.”
    Edmund grunted. “That solves money. Now we are back to time. More sewing and more study?”
    Faith waved Edmund’s comments aside. “It means a few late evenings of work, ’tis all.”
    “You will ruin your eyesight.”
    “’Tis a small sacrifice.”
    “’Tis not!”
    “What are you studying?” Rosemary cut in.
    Faith drew herself up. “I am at the Women’s Medical