|
Description
'On your mark ... get ready ... get set ... go!'
The corgi wagged its stump of a tail but didn't get up. He was too old for chasing games now.
'Come on Yogi,' Nell called. 'Come on.'
The dog lifted his head from his paws and snapped lazily at a fly.
'You're no fun any more,' she said and stomped off.
Nell wandered into the cake shop where her mother was cleaning out the pie heater. 'Mum, there's nothing to do. I've got no one to play with and even Yogi won't play chasings. He's too old.'
'Ja, we all get old, Nell,' her Dutch mother said, sighing as she reached down under the counter for the window spray and a soft cloth. 'You can go and clean the front window. That's something to do.'
'Do I get any money for it?' Nell asked.
'Donder opt. Be quiet! Does anyone pay me?' But then her mother smiled and said, 'But I'll give you a lamington if you do a good job.'
At the front of the shop, Nell sprayed the window in a swirly pattern and began to rub the finger marks and streaks away. Reaching up to the top of the window a gust of wind caught the hem of her short cotton dress and she quickly tugged it down, turning to check if anyone in the street had seen her undies. She noticed dark clouds gathering over the mountains that surrounded Broughton and the air suddenly felt cool against her legs. Maybe it would storm later.
She rubbed the window till it was spotless and went back through the plastic fly curtain into the shop. 'Can I have my lamington now, Mum?'
Her older brother Gerrit was leaning against the door, eating a sausage roll. He was still in his school clothes, the grey trousers too short for his long legs, the white shirt straining against his broad shoulders. He was so tall that he nearly reached the top of... |
Looking for additional articles?
Click here
to search our database of over 3 million articles.
|
%20%20&position=1)