A Stitch in Time Read Online Free

sun-umbrellas, adorned the neatly mown lawn. There did not seem to be a swing there either, though there was a small bowling green and a badminton net.
    The cat appeared, and sharpened its claws against the trunk of the tree with a rasping noise.
    â€œWhat did you say your name was?” it said.
    â€œMaria.”
    â€œMary, you mean.”
    â€œNo. Maria.”
    â€œThat’s a bit fancy, isn’t it?” said the cat scornfully.
    â€œMy mother thinks old-fashioned names are nice.”
    â€œPretentious, I call it,” said the cat. It watched a clump of grass intently, its tail twitching.
    â€œDoes the dog live next door?” said Maria. “The one that barks in the night?”
    The cat shuddered. “Do you mind? One has some feelings.”
    â€œI just wondered.”
    Some children had come out into the hotel garden and were playing an energetic game of badminton, with much shrieking and shouting.
    â€œJolly lot,” said the cat. “Why don’t you ask if you can play with them?”
    â€œI might.”
    â€œGo on then.”
    â€œIn a minute.”
    â€œYou’re scared they wouldn’t want you,” said the cat.
    Maria slid down the tree and walked slowly towards the ragged hedge that separated the two gardens at this point. The cat watched her through half-closed eyes. She stood looking at the children for a minute or so and then said, “Actually, I’ve got to go in and help my mother.”
    â€œSez you,” said the cat.
    In the kitchen, her mother was energetically filling shelves and cupboards with their kind of food, and sorting out the crockery.
    â€œWhy were you chasing that cat away?”
    â€œIt’s an unfriendly cat,” said Maria.
    â€œNonsense. It’s been purring round my legs all morning.”
    Hasn’t she ever noticed, Maria wondered to herself, that people can be quite different depending on whom they’rewith? Animals too, presumably. Like Mrs Hayward at school smiles and smiles when there are parents there so you see her teeth all the way round and then when there’s only children again, her face goes all long and thin and you don’t see her teeth any more and her voice goes different too, kind of quicker and crosser…
    The front doorbell rang.
    â€œA caller!” said Mrs Foster. “But we don’t know anyone.”
    She went through to the hall. Beyond the open door Maria could hear the mixture of voices – a strange one and her mother’s (that’s her talking-to-people-she-doesn’t-know voice, she thought). The voices ebbed and flowed; the kitchen clock ticked; the sun came out and made a neat golden square across half the table, down its legs and on to the floor. Maria became aware that she was being called, and went reluctantly into the hall.
    â€œThis is Maria,” said her mother. “Mrs Shand is our landlady. She lives over the road.”
    Mrs Shand was very old. Her clothes were old-fashioned but lady-like, Maria recognised; silk dress and brooches and necklaces, and stockings that ended oddly in a pair of white plimsolls. She stared at Maria and said, “The last tenants had four. Just the one will be quite a change. Not that I mind children.”
    I have never met a landlady before, thought Maria, so I don’t know if I mind them or not. I expect I shall find out.
    â€œWell,” said Mrs Shand, “there’s plenty of space for the three of you, that’s for sure.”
    â€œPlenty,” said Mrs Foster. “We hadn’t realised quite how large the house was.”
    â€œTenants are often surprised. The furnishings arouse comment also, from time to time.”
    â€œWe like Victorian things,” said Mrs Foster. “Aren’t you afraid of damage, though? With children about, and people being careless…”
    â€œThe house has been subjected to children all its life,” said Mrs Shand, a little tartly.