Noel Streatfeild

Thursday’s Child


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      First published in Great Britain by William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd in 1970

      This edition published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2020

      Published in this ebook edition in 2020

      HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

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      London SE1 9GF

      The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Text copyright © Noel Streatfeild 1970

      Cover illustrations copyright © Sarah Gibb 2020

      Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

      Noel Streatfeild asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Source ISBN: 9780008244057

      Ebook Edition © Feb 2020 ISBN: 9780008244040

      Version: 2020-02-26

       Dedicated to an American penfriend, Kathy Retan, with love

       Monday’s child is fair of face,

       Tuesday’s child is full of grace,

       Wednesday’s child is full of woe,

       Thursday’s child has far to go,

       Friday’s child is loving and giving,

       Saturday’s child works hard for a living,

       And the child that is born on the Sabbath day

       Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

      – Anonymous

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       Epigraph

      Chapter One: The Choice

      Chapter Two: Packing Up

      Chapter Three: The Journey

       Chapter Nine: Plans for Sunday

       Chapter Ten: Half a Sunday

       Chapter Eleven: The Picnic

       Chapter Twelve: A Night Adventure

       Chapter Thirteen: By Moonlight

       Chapter Fourteen: The Archdeacon’s Brother

       Chapter Fifteen: The Invitation

       Chapter Sixteen: Questions

       Chapter Seventeen: Sunday with Mr Windle

       Chapter Eighteen: Trouble

       Chapter Nineteen: Escape

       Chapter Twenty: Jem

       Chapter Twenty-one: Polly Makes a Discovery

       Chapter Twenty-two: The Nightdress

       Chapter Twenty-three: Ma Smith

       Chapter Twenty-four: Wilberforce

       Chapter Twenty-five: First Morning

       Chapter Twenty-six: In the Drawing Room

       Chapter Twenty-seven: Rain

       Chapter Twenty-eight: New Plans

       Chapter Twenty-nine: Goodbye to Matron

       Chapter Thirty: The Tunnel

       Chapter Thirty-one: At the Bull

       Chapter Thirty-two: At Morning Prayers

       Chapter Thirty-three: The Theatre

       Chapter Thirty-four: The Whole Truth

       Chapter Thirty-five: The Rehearsal

       Chapter Thirty-six: The Crusader

       Chapter Thirty-seven: Curtain Down

       Keep Reading …

       About the Author

       Books by Noel Streatfeild

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

       THE CHOICE

      Margaret had been discovering all her life that grown-ups were disappointing conversationalists. So now that she was ten she was quite prepared to carry on a conversation by herself. That January afternoon as she walked – or sometimes, forgetting it was a crime – skipped home beside Hannah, she argued about boots.

      ‘I know you say and Miss Sylvia and Miss Selina say that boots are economical because they last longer but I don’t think that’s true. All the other girls at school wear shoes and they say they don’t wear out quickly and they ought to know. And what nobody understands is what wearing boots does to me – they humiliate my legs. If I wasn’t me but a different person they would humiliate me all over, but not even boots can do that. I am Margaret Thursday and unhumiliatable.’

      Hannah, her mind worrying round like a squirrel