Windfallen Read Online Free PDF

house.
    “Ladies, can I get anyone some more tea?” Mrs. Holden was leaning toward the kitchen door, trying not to bend over too much because of her girdle. She had bought it a size too small, Celia told Lottie scornfully. It left great red welts all around her thighs. “Where is that girl? She’s been all over the place this morning.”
    “She told my Judy that she hadn’t wanted to come. They had been in London, you see. I believe they left in rather a hurry.”
    “Well, it doesn’t surprise me that she’s on the stage. She dresses very extravagantly .”
    “That’s a fine word for it,” snorted Mrs. Chilton. “Looks like she’s been going through a child’s dressing-up box.”
    There was a faint ripple of laughter.
    “Well, have you seen her? All silk and finery at eleven o’clock in the morning. She was wearing a man’s trilby when she went into the baker’s last week. A trilby! Mrs. Hatton from the Promenade was so taken aback she came out with half a dozen cream horns she hadn’t ordered.”
    “Now, ladies,” said Mrs. Holden, who disapproved of gossip. Lottie always suspected this to be down to her own well-founded fear of becoming the subject. “Who is next? Sarah dear, weren’t you going to read us something lovely from Wordsworth? Or was it Mr. Herbert again? The one about the broom?”
    Mrs. Ansty placed her cup carefully back on her saucer. “Well, all I can say is, she sounds a bit . . . unconventional for my liking. Call me old-fashioned, but I like things orderly. One husband. Children. No leaving places in a hurry.”
    There was much nodding from various upholstered chairs.
    “Let’s have some George Herbert. ‘I struck the boards and cried no more.’ Is that it?” Mrs. Holden cast around the low table for the book. “I can never remember the exact words. Deirdre, do you have a copy?”
    “Well, she’s not invited anyone up to see the house. Although I’ve heard all sorts went in there with her.”
    “You’d expect a small gathering. Even the MacPhersons put on a small gathering. It’s only polite, really.”
    “Perhaps some Byron?” said Mrs. Holden desperately. “Shelley? I can’t remember who it was you said. Now, where is that girl. Virginia? Virginia?”
    Lottie slid silently back behind the door. She took pains to ensure that Mrs. Holden didn’t see her, having been told off repeatedly for being “watchful.” She had an odd way of looking at people, Mrs. Holden had said recently. It made people uncomfortable. Lottie retorted that she couldn’t help it; she might just as well have been accused of having hair too straight or the wrong-shaped hands. She secretly thought that it probably made only Mrs. Holden uncomfortable. But then everything seemed to make Mrs. Holden uncomfortable lately. Even though she was trying to stop them talking about the actress, Lottie knew that Adeline Armand made her uncomfortable, too. When she had heard that Dr. Holden had dropped in there to take a look at Frances’s nose, her jaw had begun to tic in the same way it did when he said he was going to be “a little late home” for dinner.
    In the next room Virginia finally emerged through the hall door and collected the tray, her presence briefly quieting the visitors. Mrs. Holden, expelling an almost audible sigh of relief, began to bustle about, shepherding her to and from her various visitors.
    “The Guest House Association is having a meeting tomorrow,” Mrs. Chilton announced, wiping nonexistent crumbs from the sides of her mouth when the maid had gone. “There’s a view that we should all put our prices up.”
    Adeline Armand was briefly forgotten. While the ladies of the salon were not among those whose families were dependent on the holiday trade (Mrs. Chilton was the only one who actually worked), there were few whose income was not boosted by Merham’s regular summer visitors. Mr. Ansty’s chemist shop, Mr. Burton’s tailor just behind the parade, even Mr.