Большая маленькая ложь

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Лиана Мориарти (HR)

1.

Еhat doesn’t sound like a school trivia night,” said Mrs. Patty Ponder to Marie Antoinette.

That sounds like a riot.

The cat didn’t respond. She was dozing on the couch and found school trivia nights to be

trivial.

Not interested, eh? Let them eat cake! Is that what you’re thinking? They do eat a lot of cake,

don’t they? All those cake stalls. Goodness me. Although I don’t think any of the mothers ever

actually eat them. They’re all so sleek and skinny, aren’t they? Like you.

Marie Antoinette sneered at the compliment. The “let them eat cake” thing had grown old a long

time ago, and she’d recently heard one of Mrs. Ponder’s grandchildren say it was meant to be “let

them eat brioche” and also that Marie Antoinette never said it in the first place.

Mrs. Ponder picked up her television remote and turned down the volume on Dancing with the

Stars. She’d turned it up loud earlier because of the sound of the heavy rain, but the downpour had

eased now.

She could hear people shouting. Angry hollers crashed through the quiet, cold night air. It was

somehow hurtful for Mrs. Ponder to hear, as if all that rage were directed at her. (Mrs. Ponder had

grown up with an angry mother.)

Goodness me. Do you think they’re arguing over the capital of Guatemala? Do you know the

capital of Guatemala? No? I don’t either. We should Google it. Don’t sneer at me.

Marie Antoinette sniffed.

Let’s go see what’s going on,” said Mrs. Ponder briskly. She was feeling nervous and therefore

behaving briskly in front of the cat, the same way she’d once done with her children when her

husband was away and there were strange noises in the night.

Mrs. Ponder heaved herself up with the help of her walker. Marie Antoinette slid her slippery

body comfortingly in between Mrs. Ponder’s legs (she wasn’t falling for the brisk act) as she pushed

the walker down the hallway to the back of the house.

Her sewing room looked straight out onto the school yard of Pirriwee Public.

Mum, are you mad? You can’t live this close to a primary school,” her daughter had said when

she was first looking at buying the house.