Season of Hate Read Online Free

fuming.
    "You're supposed to throw some feed on the ground to distract them, like Poppie showed us!"
    "I forgot," he smirked. I was rubbing my finger where she had attacked me, when Nan stuck her head out of the kitchen window.
    "You two, leave them chooks alone. I got today's eggs and fed 'em." This only made Doug laugh more, so I punched him on the arm then ran to the safety of the house steps before he could get to his feet.
    "Whippy taken one, two, three, safe," I declared. It was a lesson learnt. From then on we'd feed them before we even entered the pen. Eventually the chooks were ready and waiting for us and egg gathering would soon become second nature – the hens our pets.
     

     
    "Stand still or I'll nail yer bleedin' feet to the floor," Nan threatened as we wriggled about while she tried to hold us in turn with one hand while dragging a wet comb through our hair with the other. We were that eager, we were up and dressed for our first day at our new school even before breakfast. "Never seen anyone as keen to get some schoolin' as you two," she added. Dad was already at the table fully dressed in his suit and tie for the surgery as we took our seats in our old school uniforms, complete with freshly polished shoes. Nan had declared the uniforms would have to do until she could get into town later that week to buy new ones in the school's colours.
    "Well boys, excited?" Dad asked. We nodded enthusiastically. Not about the schooling, though I liked it better than Doug, but because all our holiday mates were there.
    Nan waved goodbye from the top of the front steps as we strode on either side of Dad up Main Street, with our brown leather satchels on our backs.
    Next door, Miss Bridget, one of the Walshe sisters, was cutting back a lantana bush that was strangling her roses. Her younger sister Miss Kitty had rarely been seen only talked about, or heard playing the piano when her sister was out working. They were both spinsters in their sixties. Barry had told us that his dad told him that no one ever saw Miss Kitty, especially of a day, because she was a vampire. She only came out at night to suck the blood of cats, after sticking her long fangs in their necks. That's why cats slept all day.
    "'Cause they're too weak to do anything else," Barry maintained. And the ones that disappeared altogether, Miss Kitty sold to the new Chinese restaurant, "but only after she's sucked 'em dry of every last drop of blood and skinned 'em alive," he concluded.
    "Good morning Miss Bridget," Dad greeted, tipping his hat. We hid behind his back, our heads peering out from either side.
    "Mornin', Harry. Off to your new school, boys?" We froze, supposing she was a vampire as well. After all, she was Miss Kitty's sister.
    "What, cat got your tongue?" she cooed, leaning over her fence to get a better look. We both recoiled, handfuls of Dad's pants twisting in our fingers. Dad slapped our hands to loosen our grip.
    "No, just bad mannered is all. I apologise for their behaviour. What's gotten into you two today?" Dad asked. We had no words to explain. A smile came over Miss Bridget's face.
    "They look so cute with those satchels on their backs, I could just eat them all up," she gushed. Doug and I shielded our faces completely behind Dad's back, fearful she might follow through with her menu selection.
    "Say hello to Miss Kitty for us," Dad concluded, before giving us one of his disappointed looks, as we continued up the street.
    "Bye boys," she called out as she waved, with a pair of sharp secateurs in her hand. I swallowed and exchanged a knowing glance with Doug, who was just as afraid. Barry was right, I thought.
    Other neighbours were going to their gates and saying goodbye to their children before letting them walk to school. We felt like babies accompanied by Dad, when all the other kids our age and younger were allowed to go to school by themselves. Mrs Figgins was saying goodbye to Barry as we passed. Doug and I ran up to him and