"Diana Wynne Jones - The Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Diana Wynne)

impeccable neatness about her, like a picture painted very strictly
inside the lines. Grandma would approve of Aunt Geta, Hayley
thought. But Aunt Celia was a blurred sort of person. Aunt Alice,
who didn’t seem to have any children, was like a film star, almost
unreal she was so perfect. And the tall, calm Troy turned out to be
the son of another aunt who had stayed at home in Scotland. Most
confusingly of all, the slender brown lady, whose little pearl
earrings echoed the curves of her long cheeks and the shine of her
big dark eyes, turned out not to be an aunt at all, but Troy’s elder
sister, Harmony. Since Harmony had been bustling about just like
the aunts, setting the table and telling Tollie and the Tighs and
Laxtons to behave themselves, Hayley supposed it was a natural
mistake. But it made her feel stupid all the same.
“Supper’s ready,” Aunt May announced, tucking her flying grey
hair back into its uncoiling loose bun. “You sit here, Hayley my
dear.”
Everyone dived for the great table. Chairs squawked on the stone
floor and the noise was louder than ever. Harmony and Aunt Alice
raced to the kitchen and came back with bowls and casseroles and
dishes, while Aunt May bustled behind them with an enormous
brown turkey on a huge plate. Aunt May’s hair came uncoiled
completely as she put the bird down and she had to stand back from
the table and pin it up again. Meanwhile Cousin Mercer came back
from wherever he had disappeared to and set to work to carve the
turkey.
Aunt May was the untidiest person she had ever seen, Hayley
thought, sliding nervously into the chair Aunt May had said was
hers. Aunt May’s clothes were flapping, fraying, overlapping layers
of homespun wool, decorated in front by at least three necklaces
and a lot of gravy stains. Her feet were in worn-out fur slippers,
and as for her hair…! Remembering that Cousin Mercer had told
her Aunt May was Grandma’s eldest daughter, Hayley wondered
how on earth Grandma had managed with Aunt May as a child.
Grandma always said Hayley was untidy and spent hours trying to
make the curly tendrils of Hayley’s hair lie flat and neat. “I despair
of you, Hayley,” Grandma always said. “I really do!” With Aunt
May, Grandma must have despaired even more. Still, Hayley
thought, looking from neat Aunt Geta to beautiful Aunt Alice, the
younger daughters must have pleased Grandma quite a lot.
But Aunt May was kind. She sat next to Hayley and, while
Hayley struggled with a plate full of more food than she could
possibly eat, Aunt May explained that the Castle had once belonged
to Uncle Jolyon, but now it was a guesthouse, except for this one
week of the year. “I give the staff a holiday,” she said, “and have all
the family to stay. Even your aunt Ellie comes over some years.
And of course we have heaps of rooms. I’ve given you the little room
on the half-landing, my dear. I thought you’d feel a little strange if
I put you in with the other girls, not being used to it. Just tell me if
you’re not happy, won’t you?”
As Aunt May chatted on in this way, Hayley looked round the