Pretty Lady Read Online Free

sometimes and shouted at him when he did things like that. Mum had explained it to him. Big boys didn’t touch other people’s property.
    Denny hesitated and looked over his shoulder. The puppy, sensing victory, began a shrill high yapping, leaping up as though determined to clear the hedge.
    â€˜Hello, boy!’ Denny reached over the hedge, patting the eager head. ‘Hello, there.’
    It was too bad Mum wouldn’t let him have a dog. He wouldn’t take care of it properly, she said, and it would just be more work for her, and God knew she had enough.
    He would take care of a dog, though. He’d train it never to chase birds or cats. And they could go for runs in the park – even grown-ups were allowed to run when they had a dog with them.
    The puppy would love to come out for a run. His wistful whimper told Denny so. If he was only a little bigger, he could jump over the hedge. As it was, someone had to open the gate for him before he could come out to play.
    Denny’s hand went to the gate, almost as though it had a will of its own. The puppy watched, whining hopefully.
    At the window, a curtain twitched suddenly. Denny's hand drew back. He knew what that meant. A movement of a curtain was followed by the window being flung up, or the door opening. In either case, people shouted at you.
    Uneasily, Denny began to move along, the puppy moving with him to the end of the hedge, still hoping he’d change his mind. He could feel the unseen eyes following him, too, making sure he went away.
    â€˜That’s a good boy, Denny.’ He jumped as the familiar voice sounded at his elbow. He had been so intent upon the puppy that he hadn’t seen Constable Pete approaching.
    â€˜Hello, Pete.’ He couldn’t quite shake off the guilty feeling. Had Pete known how close he’d come to letting the puppy out? To touching other people’s property?
    â€˜It’s a nice day for a walk.’ Constable Pete fell into step beside him. ‘Going far?’
    â€˜Going to feed the ducks,’ Denny said.
    â€˜Ah.’ Constable Pete nodded. ‘By the lake, eh? Fine families of little ducklings they’ve got there this year.’
    â€˜By the river,’ Denny said, already wondering whether he should go to the lake, instead. ‘Lots of little ducklings.’ Maybe he could go to the river tomorrow. Or maybe he ought to go to the lake tomorrow. He frowned, struggling to make the decision.
    â€˜I saw your artist friend, earlier,’ Constable Pete said. ‘He was setting up for business down in front of the Odeon Cinema.’
    â€˜Rembrandt?’ Denny brightened, remembering that he had been hoping to find Rembrandt today.
    â€˜Is that the name he gave you?’ Constable Pete laughed. ‘Well, it’s a good one, all right. They don’t come much better. Maybe he’s got the right idea.’
    â€˜Rembrandt is my friend,’ Denny said proudly.
    â€˜We’re all your friends, Denny,’ Constable Pete said. ‘Just you remember that.’
    Denny nodded obligingly, stifling a sigh. There were always so many things people wanted him to remember.
    â€˜I turn off here, Denny. Have a good day.’ Constable Pete watched Denny safely off his beat, returning his goodbye wave.
    Good day. Denny walked faster. The Odeon Cinema. That was where he’d find Rembrandt.
    It was going to be a good day, after all.
POLLY
    The waves of heat and food odours beat at her as she moved slowly past the steam table in the hospital canteen. It was a long slow queue and she gripped her tray tightly, leaning on it under the guise of sliding it along the rails.
    She had a milk pudding on her tray and, at the end of the counter, she would collect a cup of tea. It was more than she wanted, but she had to force herself to eat. She had to keep going. For a while longer.
    â€˜Mrs O’Magnon, are you all right?’ Teapot poised over the empty cup,