“. . Harpsichord . . . Harridan . . . Gemma read faster than Andrew. By the time he reached the bottom of the page, her eyes were already on him. ‘What do you think?’ He twisted his face into a worried frown. He was about to speak, she knew. But then he just shook his head. He couldn’t find the words. ‘You think the chicken might have come from one of the farm sheds you pass on the way to school, don’t you?’ said Gemma. ‘I didn’t know the place had a name.’ Andrew turned back a page. ‘Harrowing ...Farm . . .’ he read aloud. ‘Funny name.’ ‘Not funny,’ said Gemma. ‘That’s just what harrowing doesn’t mean.’ ‘Harrowing means raking,’ Andrew corrected her. ‘A harrow is a tool that breaks up lumps in the soil.’ Now it was Gemma’s turn to correct him. ‘When we went to London,’ she told him, ‘my dad wouldn’t let me go in the Chamber of Horrors. He said it would be too harrowing.’ Andrew lifted his desk lid and rooted in the mess till he found his dictionary.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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