The World Within Read Online Free

was more exciting and fun that way, but it made her feel … what? Safe? Was that it? Yes. As if between them all they spun a web, a safety net that held her, and for a while at least she could be part of those worlds, could escape from the desperate feelings that had engulfed her after The Terrible Events — that’s how she thinks of them now, shutting everything away in a box with a neat label on it and burying it deep inside her.
    If they’re not going to do this together anymore, she’s afraid that the safety net might break, that the box might come open, letting all those feelings, those monsters, out again, and this time she’ll have nowhere to hide. Her heart races at the thought.
    There’s only one answer — if Branwell and Charlotte are ignoring her, she’ll have to push her way in.
    “Listen, you two,” she says, interrupting Charlotte and Branwell’s conversation. “What about Parry? And Ross,” she adds, on Anne’s behalf. “You haven’t mentioned them at all. One of them could lead the expedition.”
    “Parry!” Charlotte almost spits the word out. “The men will laugh at him.” She pinches her nose between her first finger and thumb. “Coob od, lads,” she says, sounding like Tabby with a cold. “Led de battle begid.”
    Emily recoils as if she’s been stung. “That’s not fair! Parry’s just as heroic as the marquis! And far more noble than Rogue. But you’re always leaving our men out. Aren’t they, Anne? You write about each other’s characters, but not ours.”
    Branwell turns on her. “That’s because our men are compelling and do great deeds or ravish their listeners with the poetic outpourings of their souls. They’re not weedy, like your men. And me and Charlotte have better ideas. Especially me.”
    Emily’s opening her mouth to retort when the door opens and Aunt looks in. Her expression is so grim Emily feels her heart plummet.
    But Aunt hasn’t come to berate them for their raised voices and she doesn’t even seem to notice Tiger. She beckons. “Branwell, run at once to Dr. Andrew with this.” She hands him a note. “Wait for an answer and come straight back.” Emily can hear the urgency in her voice.
    Branwell leaps up and follows Aunt out of the room. The next minute they see his head go past the window. He’s taking the shortcut through the churchyard.
    In the silence Emily looks at her sisters. If the doctor is being consulted, it can only mean one thing. Papa must be very ill indeed.

Charlotte breaks the silence that follows Branwell’s departure. “We’d better tidy up.”
    Anne immediately starts putting their lesson books away while Charlotte bends to pick up the little books from the floor. Emily goes to help her, but Charlotte waves her away, saying, “I’ll do it.”
    How long will it be before Branwell returns? Emily wanders over to Papa’s desk. There are all the familiar objects — Papa’s spectacles case, his comical tobacco jar with its gargoyle face, his inkpot. He’s left a pen out and she puts it back in the pen stand, arranging it tidily in line with the others. All the resentment and anguish that she felt a few minutes earlier has vanished. She can only think about Papa now.
    She grips the back of his chair. Impossible to imagine him lying upstairs in his bed, pale and still.
    Suddenly she notices that instead of putting the little books away in Papa’s case, Charlotte has taken them all out and is arranging them in piles.
    Emily drops to her knees next to her sister. “What are you doing?”
    Charlotte’s face is closed. “I’m getting my books out, separating them from everybody else’s. I’m going to make a catalog of them. Then I’ll store mine somewhere else and there’ll be more space in here for yours.”
    Emily stares. Tiger comes up and butts his head against her, wanting her to stroke him, but she ignores him.
    What does Charlotte mean — “my” books? They’ve always been “our” books. What’s going