Free The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place by Julie Berry Page B

mindful of Amanda Barnes’s footsteps bringing her ever nearer, like impending doom.
    “There is a parish strawberry social on Wednesday evening,” the junior law clerk croaked. “Will you be in attendance?”
    Poor Stout Alice’s head was a jumble of confusion now. What could it mean? He must, surely he must only intend to use that occasion as an opportunity to check to see that the papers had been properly delivered …
    Mr. Murphy’s face was paler than chalk, yet his cheeks and pustules f lamed vermilion. “Could I … would I … might I anticipate the pleasure of further conversation with you then?”
    Rhapsodies of roses and violins f looded Alice’s senses. “You may,” she breathed, then ran toward the house.

CHAPTER 7
    Back at the grave site, Smooth Kitty, Disgraceful Mary Jane, Dour Elinor, Dear Roberta, and Dull Martha were having a much harder time than anticipated. Not only had Mr. Godding’s irregular posture forced a deepening of the grave, but the awkward spread of his limbs required a widening as well. He was like a little boy sharing a bed with his brother and refusing to keep to his half. The girls dug and maneuvered their cocooned contraband as fast as they could, but the stubborn bodies would not submit.
    “How on earth is it so wretchedly difficult to bury something!” Mary Jane fumed. “We’d have an easier time of it wrestling living persons into a grave.”
    “Hush,” Smooth Kitty whispered. “Footsteps! And talking. Someone’s come to the house.”
    “All we can do is trust Alice, and hurry,” Mary Jane whispered. “That’s the way, Roberta Dear! Wedge this rock on top of Mr. Godding, won’t you, and then we can pour on the manure.”
    “They look like pupae,” Dour Elinor noted. “I’m sure that’s what Louise would say if she were here. Let’s hope they don’t hatch into gigantic insects.”
    “Really, Elinor!” Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “The things you say!”
    They finished wedging the bodies into a position that seemed likely to stay below ground at last, then they dumped an avalanche of manure over the shrouded bodies. Dear Roberta gagged into her handkerchief, but Dull Martha didn’t seem to mind. “It smells wholesome,” she said. “Like ponies.”
    “Rest in peace, Headmistress,” Dear Roberta said, bowing her head for a moment.
    “Very touching, and befitting the occasion.” Disgraceful Mary Jane patted Dear Roberta on the back. “And rest in peace, Her Ugly Rude Brother.”
    “Oh, oh, oh.” Dear Roberta began to moan. Her breathing accelerated anxiously.
    “What’s the matter?” Smooth Kitty cried. She recognized a faint was afoot.
    Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “Not again. And not now, for the love of Mike!”
    “It occurs to me,” Dear Roberta said between panting breaths, “that it’s not a very Christian thing we’re doing, burying them in this way.”
    No one spoke. Glances shifted from side to side until all eyes rested expectantly upon Kitty. This, she felt, was a test of her leadership.
    “That’s true, Roberta,” she said. “It isn’t.”
    “ Ohhhhh ,” wailed that conscience-stricken young lady. “I knew it!”
    “But,” Kitty went on firmly, “their heavenly reward is in no way linked to their burial. Think of all the poor sailors who die at sea.”
    Disgraceful Mary Jane nodded encouragingly. Keep going, Kit.
    “Mrs. Plackett and Mr. Godding have … burst the confines of this mortal prison,” Kitty continued, proud of herself for having extracted some use from one of Reverend Rumsey’s tedious sermons. “And we are brought to this unhappy pass through no fault of our own. We didn’t kill them.” Kitty glanced around the group to see what private thoughts, if any, this statement revealed. “So we shall pray for them, and from this point on, we shall reform ourselves and turn over a new leaf. I feel confident that fate will never present to us such a morbid dilemma again. No more bodies shall we ever