Cindy Jones Read Online Free

her father pointed out. “Once everything is finished, I’m sure we’ll be happy with the results. We want the house cleaned up and painted for the wedding, don’t we?”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œOnly a few months away, Jacinda.” Mrs. Barry recovered her good humor and turned her attention to the professor. “What about showing me the lounge room, Godfrey? Did you manage to get your new fish settled in the bigger tank?”
    The professor’s face lit up. “Of course, Guinevere. I’d like you to see—”
    His voice cut off as the double doors swung shut behind them. Cindy sat at her desk and shuffled through her books and papers looking for her biology assignment.
    Mrs. Barry had brought home the dreadful reality of the wedding. Her father actually wanted the trees chopped down, the ivy stripped from the walls, and all his precious books and other belongings tidied up!
    Cindy propped the textbook open in front of her. After awhile the print stopped dancing and wavering and she could read it again. She started to write up her notes.
    Her father wasn’t married yet. Anything could happen before the wedding. A sudden thought struck Cindy. Her father was less concerned about her pushing Prunella into the pool than that she resented the changes happening.
    The anticipated row about her pushing Prunella into the pool had somehow defused. Of course no one could have a row in the presence of Miss Hopkins. She was so pedantic and controlled that no one would dare. Cindy grinned at the thought of Miss Hopkins in the guise of a fairy godmother, wand and all, but the fight had definitely been averted. She continued to work more cheerfully.
    Her pen slowed as she puzzled over the abrupt question about cooking. Was there a warning or a message in that odd question? Miss Hopkins was never illogical.
    She decided to talk to Gretta about cooking as soon as possible. What did she have to lose?

 
    Chapter Five
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    Cindy handed her father his jacket and briefcase. This morning he wore a bright yellow tie with a pale pink patterned shirt. He hummed to himself as he picked up his car keys.
    â€œDon’t forget you’re having lunch with Dr. Zelna.”
    â€œI’ll remember.” He ruffled her hair and turned to leave. “See you tonight, Cindy.”
    Cindy looked at the time. Horace was still missing. She hadn’t seen him since he followed Miss Hopkins out of the house. She shrugged and gave Pearl her saucer of milk. It was odd, but not worrying. Horace often went missing for a day or so. He would return when he was hungry.
    Gretta’s car was parked at the surgery, so Cindy turned her bike into the driveway. Gretta, wearing a stained old shirt over her jeans, was taking the temperatures of her overnight patients. Cindy sighed at the dropped ears and tails of the unhappy animals. She picked up a pen and filled in their cards as Gretta read out the temperatures.
    â€œAll normal this morning, thank goodness,” Gretta said as she put the last animal back into its cage. “I’ve got to check on a mare in foal as soon as my assistant arrives.”
    She scrubbed her hands clean, pulled off the dirty shirt, and shrugged into her white jacket. She pushed her untidy dark hair out of her eyes and reached for the appointment book and her notes.
    Cindy plunged into her request for recipes.
    â€œRecipes?” Gretta queried. “You make a wonderful pavlova and cheesecake, and none of my sponges are as fluffy as yours.”
    â€œI want to learn proper cooking. Like roast meat and vegetables, and casseroles and things.”
    â€œI don’t eat much of that sort of food,” Gretta admitted. “I’ve got recipes for cucumber and prawn gelatin, avocado soup, crabmeat puffs, oyster rissoles, spaghetti and lobster, Swiss fondue, onion casserole and stuffed chokos?”
    Cindy kept shaking her head. Gretta looked at her watch. “What about