“They told her after breakfast. Mum had sent Gavin over to play with Joey, who lived across the road. Norah was dismayed when Grandad went out as well, a furious expression on his face. She was invited to sit down in the front room. Muriel insisted on calling it the “drawing room”. It was only used on special occasions—when Muriel and Tibby entertained their young men, or when the vicar came to tea. The flimsy chairs were too stiff to be comfortable, as if they proclaimed “only serious matters a...re discussed here.” Norah tipped back her chair and waited. Mum had just polished the windows and a faint whiff of ammonia came from them. For the rest of her life, Norah would never smell ammonia without a flutter of panic. Dad began speaking in such a cheerful voice that she wanted to scream. “Well, Norah, you and Gavin are going to have a great adventure!” “No—” said Norah at once, but he waved her to be still. “Hold your horses! Just listen for a moment, then you can have your say.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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