Free Just William by Richmal Crompton Page B

selfconsciously,
‘By Jove!’
    ‘We could do a show,’ said Ginger. ‘Get animals an’ things an’ charge money for lookin’ at them.’
    ‘Who’d pay it?’ said Henry, the doubter.
    Anyone would. You’d pay to see animals, wouldn’t you? Real animals. People do at the zoo, don’t they? Well, we’ll get some animals. That’s easy enough, isn’t
it?’
    A neighbouring church clock struck four and the meeting was adjourned.
    ‘Well, we’ll have a show an’ get money and buy bows an’ arrows an’ shoot things,’ summed up William, ‘an we’ll arrange the show next
week.’
    William returned home slowly and thoughtfully. He sat on his bed, his hands in his pockets, his brow drawn into a frown, his thoughts wandering in a dreamland of wonderful ‘shows’
and rare exotic beasts.
    Suddenly from the next room came a thin sound that gathered volume till it seemed to fill the house like the roaring of a lion, then died gradually away and was followed by silence. But only for
a second. It began again – a small whisper that grew louder and louder, became a raucous bellow, then faded slowly away to rise again after a moment’s silence. In the next room
William’s mother’s Aunt Emily was taking her afternoon nap. Aunt Emily had come down a month ago for a week’s visit and had not yet referred to the date of her departure.
William’s father was growing anxious. She was a stout, healthy lady, who spent all her time recovering from a slight illness she had had two years ago. Her life held two occupations, and only
two. These were eating and sleeping. For William she possessed a subtle but irresistible fascination. Her stature, her appetite, her gloom, added to the fact that she utterly ignored him, attracted
him strongly.
    The tea-bell rang and the sound of the snoring ceased abruptly. This entertainment over, William descended to the dining-room, where his father was addressing his mother with some heat.
    ‘Is she going to stay here for ever, or only for a few years? I’d like to know, because—’
    Perceiving William, he stopped abruptly, and William’s mother murmured:
    ‘It’s so nice to have her, dear.’
    Then Aunt Emily entered.
    ‘Have you slept well, Aunt?’
    ‘Slept!’ repeated Aunt Emily majestically. ‘I hardly expect to sleep in my state of health. A little rest is all I can expect.’
    ‘Sorry you’re no better,’ said William’s father sardonically.
    ‘ Better? ’ she repeated again indignantly. ‘It will be a long time before I’m better.’
    She lowered her large, healthy frame into a chair, carefully selected a substantial piece of bread and butter and attacked it with vigour.
    ‘I’m going to the post after tea,’ said William’s mother. ‘Would you care to come with me?’
    Aunt Emily took a large helping of jam.
    ‘You hardly expect me to go out in the evening in my state of health, surely? It’s years since I went out after tea. And I was at the post office this morning. There were a lot of
people there, but they served me first. I suppose they saw I looked ill.’
    William’s father choked suddenly and apologised, but not humbly.
    ‘Though I must say,’ went on Aunt Emily, ‘this place does suit me. I think after a few months here I should be a little stronger. Pass the jam, William.’
    The glance that William’s father fixed upon her would have made a stronger woman quail, but Aunt Emily was scraping out the last remnants of jam and did not notice.
    ‘I’m a bit overtired today, I think,’ she went on. ‘I’m so apt to forget how weak I am and then I overdo it. I’m ready for the cake, William. I just sat out
in the sun yesterday afternoon and sat a bit too long and overtired myself. I ought to write letters after tea, but I don’t think I have the strength. Another piece of cake, William.
I’ll go upstairs to rest instead, I think. I hope you’ll keep the house quiet. It’s so rarely that I can get a bit of sleep.’
    William’s