V for Violet Read Online Free PDF

Hepburn, the star of the film. But I bet they don’t know any of the things that I know about her.
    1. For a start, Audrey Hepburn is far too skinny and could do with eating a few bags of chips.
    2. And even though she’s that skinny, she’s got huge feet. Size ten.
    3. She can speak five different languages.
    4. She had to stand by and watch some of her family being shot by the Nazis.
    I lift my eyes from the pavement. I can see Ruby’s Café in the distance now. The windows are steamed up, which is annoying because I want to see where everybody is sitting before I go inside. I want to prepare my face, to arrange my features so that I look like I don’t care if they are all in there or not.
    But I can’t do that now. I’ll have to open the café door and look around the room first. And one of them is bound to see me come in and there’ll be nudging and winking and then they’ll go all quiet when I walk over to their table. I know I’ll go red. I know I will. I can feel my cheeks burning already.
    I put my hand up to check my hair. It feels a lumpy mess where the wind has stirred it up, like a bowl of porridge. I pull my fingers through it uselessly. I open the café door. A rush of warm dampness hits me in the face, and the smell of fried eggs, burnt toast and cigarette smoke curl around my nostrils.
    I hear them before I see them. Jackie’s lemon-sharp giggle cuts through the grease in the air, and there’s another sound of hoarse, confident laughter that makes the palms of my hands sweat.
    They’re over in the corner, squashed around a red Formica table that’s covered in mugs and crumb-scattered plates and a glass ashtray balancing a tower of fag ends. There’s four of them, including Jackie.
    None of them look round. They’re too interested in each other. I have to walk right up to the table and tap Jackie on the shoulder.
    She turns round. ‘Oh. Hi, Violet,’ she says.
    The others stop talking. For a long, awkward moment all I can feel are their eyes, sliding up and down me, judging the scruffy pumps on my feet and the blue cotton slacks that Norma passed on to me when she got bored with them. Suddenly, I can’t imagine why I ever thought they’d look good with my old white blouse and the lemon cardie that Jackie’s nan knitted for me last Christmas. I pull down the hem of the cardie, as if it will make it look any better.
    ‘You going to sit down?’ says Jackie. ‘Here.’ She shuffles across her seat and pats the small space left beside her. I balance myself on the edge of her chair and nod to the three girls who are still watching me.
    ‘Oh,’ says Jackie, suddenly remembering her manners. She flicks her hand at the other girls. ‘This is Pauline, Sharon and Mary.’ She turns to me. ‘And girls … this is Violet.’
    They all smile quick, stiff little smiles and I notice how they are all wearing the same shade of lipstick, like strawberry jam smeared thickly across their mouths. ‘Anyway,’ says the one called Sharon. ‘Like I was saying. Do you think if I pinned my hair back like this …’ She grabs the ends of her dark shoulder-length hair and pulls it back from her face. ‘… And if I flick my eyeliner out at the edges …’ She widens her eyes and blinks slowly. ‘… Do you think I might get mistaken for Audrey Hepburn?’
    ‘In your dreams!’ The one called Mary hoots with laughter. She has pale, down-to-her-bum hair and a dainty nose that twitches like a rabbit’s. She’s the one that has already done
it,
I remember. I scrutinise her face, looking for any tell-tale signs. She’s got lovely skin. Really white and clear and pearly-looking. Her eyes are huge and when she blinks her lashes touch the tops of her cheeks. But there’s no obvious sign that she’s done
it.
    I laugh to myself. What did I expect? A big badge pinned to her chest that says,
Warning. Spoiled goods. Keep clear
?
    ‘You all right?’ says Jackie, nudging me. ‘What’s so