Juneli's first Term: chapters 1 & 2

Juneli’s First Term is the first of a trilogy. The stories were first serialized in Children’s World, a popular children’s magazine in India, between 1978 and 1985. They were published as books in 1992 by Harper Collins (India). They have been out of print since 2002, after the children’s section was discontinued. Here are the first 2 chapters, for anyone who feels interested:

Juneli’s First Term


Chapter -1

Juneli at home

The sun shone brighter than ever and the sky looked twice as blue when Juneli opened her eyes and looked out of the window. It was a cold January morning. The doubly-folded blanket seemed the very refuge of snug comfort. But for Juneli, the world outside held greater attractions that morning. For today was the day of days! The day she had dreamt about and longed for, for months in the past. She was going to school for the first time at long last. She threw off the blanket and ran to the window overlooking the garden.
“I am going to school!” she called out aloud, “Yes, really I am!”

Twelve-year-old Juneli Ray was the only child of a loving father who had chosen the life of a recluse. Rajat Ray was a rich man, the owner of several tea gardens in Assam and Bengal. At one time he had been a very sociable person with many friends. Juneli could vaguely remember those grand parties held in the lawn of their house in Calcutta; the jolly picnics and rides in Darjeeling and the lavish ‘at homes’ given by her parents in different places. Juneli’s tiny, gentle, doll-like mother had been alive then. Juneli could just about recall her beautiful eyes, her soft voice and her loving ways. It was her mother who had named her. She belonged to Assam and was proud of her native tongue which her Bengali husband had never managed to learn. When Juneli was born one bright and sunny June morning he had wanted to call her “June”. But her mother had laughed and protested.
“No, not June. We shall call her Juneli. The word means ‘moonlight’ in Assamese.”
“But there was no moonlight when she arrived!” said her father laughing, “sunlight would fit her better. But I agree with you. Juneli is a lovely name.”

Jayati, Juneli’s mother, did not live long. She died of pneumonia when Juneli was barely four years old. It was so sudden that there was no time to do anything. They were in Darjeeling at the time. There was a sudden cloudburst followed by particularly bad weather. Landslides cut them off completely from the major roads. Juneli’s father rushed out on horseback to fetch the doctor. But she breathed her last just before the doctor arrived. Juneli’s father never got over the shock. His grief changed his entire life. He lived the life of a recluse ever since, shutting out everyone from his life. All but his motherless child. He bought a little cottage in the heart of a remote forest in Chotanagpur and moved there with his little girl and a few old and trusted servants.

Juneli and her father had lived there all these years in quiet seclusion except for a maid, a gardener, a driver and a couple of servants. There was Bindu who had looked after Juneli all these years and was the housekeeper as well. Ramu, another old hand, was Rajat Ray’s Man-Friday. Juneli had no near relatives except for an uncle, her father’s younger brother. But he was away at Canada with his family and had not been home for years. Juneli knew very little about her mother’s people. Of course, her father had cousins and other distant relatives. But after her mother died they hardly saw anyone at all. And letters were few and far between. As far as Juneli knew, there were merely her father’s business letters.

Father and daughter had been quietly happy in their secluded life and Juneli had no desire for anything different. She studied and played with her father, went hunting and fishing with him and worked with him in the garden. The tiny cottage was a spacious villa now and there was a flourishing garden as well as an orchard flanking it on both sides. Mr. Ray had been a keen tennis and badminton player long ago. He had courts made at the back of their cottage and had taught Juneli to play. Then there were Duke and Queenie, the magnificent Alsatians. With the two of them close by, Juneli wanted no other friends. Her little world had seemed quite complete.

Things might have gone on just like this. Juneli might never have realized the need for anything more for years to come had she not made a sudden discovery in the little-used store room. It was a trunk full of books that had belonged to her mother. Most of them were stories for girls. Juneli had looked at the colourful dust jackets and the intriguing titles curiously. There were several books by the same authors – L.M. Montgomery, Louisa M. Alcott, Susan Coolidge, Elsie J. Oxenham, Elinor Brent-Dyer, Enid Blyton, Dorita Fairlie Bruce, Angela Brazil and many others. Jayati had loved school stories and had an enormous collection which she insisted on carrying everywhere, much to her husband’s amusement. Juneli seized the books joyfully and read them eagerly. She had never read anything so fascinating in her life!

It was this discovery that turned her little world upside down, filling her with a craving for the happy-go-lucky school life depicted in many of the books and the companionship of girls of her own age. She dreamt and longed to experience all the thrills of school life – lessons and games, pranks and jokes, and even examinations. But she was much too shy to speak out her longings to her father. How could she possibly tell him that she wanted to leave him all alone and go to school somewhere else? There were none nearby so the question of being a day girl did not arise. She was all her poor father had! Even the 12-year-old Juneli was intelligent enough to realize that he lived for her and her alone. So nothing was said and Juneli had kept her dreams and longings to herself.

Of course any normal father would have realized the child’s need for school education and friends of her own age. But intense grief had turned Rajat Ray into an eccentric, unable to see beyond himself. He strongly felt that no person or institute could do more more Juneli than himself. And he had no idea that she badly needed the companionship of children. Juneli stepped into her dream world of schools whenever she was alone and tried to tell herself that the fun described in the school stories existed only in books.

But something happened that suddenly made her dreams come true. One August evening as Juneli sat resting in the garden after a game of badminton with her father, some strangers turned up in a lovely white car and stopped just outside their gate. Ramu had taken Duke and Queenie for a walk or they would have raised the roof. But they were deep inside the forest chasing rabbits. Juneli could not help staring at the three people who alighted from the car – a tall man, about the same age as her father, a lady who smiled at her and a girl of about seventeen or so. The lady came forward and opened the gate. Then she looked at Juneli and said, “You must be Juneli. Where’s your daddy, dear? I am your Aunt Alo, his cousin. And this is my husband, your Uncle Sandeep, and our daughter.” Not being used to visitors, Juneli felt strangely tongue tied. She silently led them to the kitchen garden behind the house where her father was busy weeding.
“Daddy” she called somewhat nervously, not knowing what her father would say to these nice and friendly people, “here are some visitors to see you.”

To her astonishment the lady rushed to her father and threw her arms round him, crying, “why, Rajat dear, how solemn and grey you look! It seems like decades since I saw you last! How are you? Aren’t you glad to see me? Sandeep and Vineeta are here too. Won’t you ask us to stay?”
Juneli’s father, though taken aback by her sudden appearance, was obviously delighted.
“Alo, by all that’s wonderful! And Sandy too! Where have you sprung from? Lovely to see you after all these years! But I thought you were at Trivandrum, the other end of the country? When did you come here?”
“Last week” said Uncle Sandeep, who was an old school friend of Juneli’s father.
“We had come to see the National Park in Hazaribagh and thought we’d look you up” added Aunt Alo.
“Luckily Alo was able to dig out your address from one of her ancient notebooks or we could never have made it” said Uncle Sandeep laughing, “talk of being buried alive! This must be the remotest spot I’ve ever come across in these parts.”
“Of course you must stay” said Rajat joining in the laughter, “I’m afraid I’ve been rather unsociable for many years and lost touch with friends and relatives. Juneli dear, go and ask Bindu to get the upstairs room ready for you uncle and aunt. Vineeta can share your room. You have a double-bed in any case.”
“How nice of you to remember my name, Uncle Rajat” said Vineeta in surprise.
“Well, it was I who named you all those years ago – seventeen, I think” said Rajat smiling at her, “don’t you remember, Alo?”
“So you did!” said Alo and Sandeep together.

The days that followed seemed like a dream to Juneli. Aunt Alo was affectionate and jolly and mothered Juneli in a way that won her heart completely. Vineeta was friendly and great fun to be with. And Uncle Sandeep had a stock of the most amusing stories Juneli had ever heard. Every day seemed like a picnic whether they went out into the forest or stayed indoors. Juneli had never seen her father so jolly before. He seemed like a different person altogether.

Juneli showered Vineeta with questions about her school and was never tired of hearing about it. Amused at her avid interest, Vineeta told her all she could. Of course, she was in college now. But the memories of her happy school days were still quite fresh in her mind. Then one evening as Juneli and Vineeta went boating in the lake near their house, Aunt Alo decided to speak her mind to Juneli’s father.
“Rajat, that child is simply pining to go to school. Why don’t you send her?”
“Don’t be crazy, Alo. She does very well here” said Juneli’s father, “I teach her myself – both studies and games. In school they’ll merely turn her into a snob.”
“You are wrong, they won’t. Juneli isn’t the kind to become a snob!” said Aunt Alo, “and there are so many good schools.”
“I think I’ve been teaching her fairly well”
“I know you have and with great care” said Aunt Alo, “but she’ll never have an all-round education unless she goes to school. I am quite sure of that. Especially in today’s world.”
“I’m not so sure” grunted Juneli’s father, still unwilling to consider another point of view.
“She needs friends of her own age” said Aunt Alo, “I know she is just longing to go to school. You should hear the number of questions she asks Vineeta about it. And why not? It’s every child’s right, after all.”

Rajat Ray frowned. There were not many who would dare to speak to him so frankly, he knew. But he also knew that Alo was genuinely fond of Juneli and wanted the best for her. “Aren’t you making a mountain of a molehill, Alo?” he asked at last, “Juneli has all that she wants here and has never been anything but happy. Ask her if you don’t believe me.”
“I don’t doubt it for a moment” said Aunt Alo, “but she’ll be much happier to have her share of schooling.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I do” said Aunt Alo, “You have seen life and a great deal of the world, Rajat. It doesn’t matter if you choose to remain a recluse for the rest of your life. But what right have you to shut this little girl from life and all the joys of childhood, all its fun and merriment? Tell me that. You are being most unfair to her just because you want her to be near you all the time.”
“Is that what you really feel?” asked Juneli’s father after a brief pause.
“Yes. I feel you are being both unfair and selfish” said Aunt Alo looking him straight in the eyes, “and I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t care for you both.”

Rajat Ray said no more. But when he came down for breakfast the next morning he looked pale and heavy-eyed. “You are quite right, Alo” he said without any preamble, “Juneli ought to go to school. I know that’s what her mother would also wish. Could you choose a good one? Not too far away, if possible, so that I could see her sometimes, apart from the school holidays.”
“Good for you, Rajat” cried Aunt Alo joyfully, “I knew you would see my point. As it happens, I know just the right school for Juneli. Send her to St. Brigid’s at Ranipur. It’s only about 50 miles from here.”
“How do you know about it?” asked Juneli’s father surprised, “you don’t live here!”
“I know about it because it is a branch of the same school which Vineeta went to near Trivandrum. It’s a very good school. Mother Benedicta, who is the principal of St. Brigid’s is an old teacher of Vineeta’s. I’m sure she’d be delighted to welcome Juneli.”
“Why don’t you send for their prospectus, Rajat?” said Uncle Sandeep coming into the room, “that will tell you all that you want to know about the school.”
“Right. I’ll do that first thing after breakfast” said Juneli’s father sounding a little more cheerful.

So the prospectus was sent for and Juneli was so enraptured with everything that she was duly registered as a pupil for the next term. She would have an entrance test when the school reopened so that they might decide which class she’d be in. when Aunt Alo and Uncle Sandeep left for Trivandrum leaving a radiantly happy Juneli behind they were satisfied that they had done the right thing. Juneli and her father took a short trip to Calcutta to buy the things mentioned in the school prospectus. All except books and uniforms which would be supplied by the school.

Juneli thought of the last few days as she got ready for school. The much expected day was here at last. Bindu had packed all her things neatly in the school trunk. That and the kitbag with the smaller items like pencils, pen, the tuckbox and the like were already in the car. They were to start soon after breakfast as it was rather a long way to go. Juneli knew she would miss her father badly. But he had promised to come and see her every weekend. And there would be vacations.

“Juneli, are you ready as yet?” she heard her father call, “ breakfast is on the table and we must start early. Better hurry!”
“Just coming, Dad” she replied, giving a quick glance at her room. Feeling that her cup of joy was quite full, Juneli ran down the steps in eager impatience.

Chapter -2

St. Brigid’s

Juneli sat wrapped up in dreams throughout the journey and had no eyes for the scenery outside. In fact she did not even realize that their car had come to a halt until her father said, “Wake up, Juneli. Here’s your school.”
Juneli sat up with a jerk. “I wasn’t sleeping” she said, “are we really there, daddy?”
“At least the gate says so” said her father laughing.
Juneli looked out of the window curiously. They were in front of a big white gate on which were printed in bright red letters – St. Brigid’s. A man in khaki uniform opened the gate and let them in. Juneli’s father stopped the car in front of a green and cream building. This was the convent where the nuns lived. Here was the parlour where Mother Benedicta interviewed parents and welcomed the new children.

Juneli’s father rang the bell which hung outside the parlour door. Almost immediately a young girl in a green sari opened the door and showed them in. Juneli felt strangely nervous as she looked about her. Everything was so new and unfamiliar! How on earth was she to live in this completely unknown place chockfull of strangers? What madness had prompted her to imagine that she would like it? Things sounded marvellous in books but in real life……? It had all been a big mistake! Could she lump her pride and tell her father that she didn’t want school after all and beg him to take her back with him? Aunt Alo and Uncle Sandeep would be disappointed but she’d try to make them understand. Poor Juneli was very nearly in tears.

In all probability she’d have let them fall but for the stormy entrance of a tabby cat chased by an indignant pup whose piece of meat the tabby had made away with. They knocked against the prim parlour maid who was new and terrified of cats. She let out a wild scream at the unexpected assault and dashed out into the garden with both cat and pup running after her. It was such a hilarious sight that both Juneli and her father burst out laughing.

Just then Mother Benedicta came into the parlour. Juneli stood up instinctively, looking at the tall and stately figure with awe and admiration. Mother Benedicta was not exactly beautiful but she had a lovely warm smile and kind, sympathetic eyes that seemed to read people’s thoughts. She greeted Rajat Ray and gave Juneli a welcoming smile. “So, you are Juneli? I am sure you will be happy with us, dear. St. Brigid’s is like a big family, you know. She turned to Juneli’s father who said, “I am sure it is just the right school for her, Mother. She has had a rather lonely childhood with no one but myself for company..”
“Yes, I know” said Mother Benedicta gently, “Mrs. Mukherjee, Vineeta’s mother, told me all about you when she came to see me.”
“I ought to have sent her to school years ago… but somehow I couldn’t bear to part with her” said Rajat Ray with a catch in his voice.
“She will be carefully looked after” said Mother Benedicta, “please don’t worry about her, Mr. Ray. Rest assured, she will be very happy with us, like the rest of our students.”
“The classes start tomorrow, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes. But I asked you to bring Juneli a day earlier so that she might settle down and make friends. Most of our girls will be back by this evening. And now I’d like to take you round the school. You’d like to see it, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh yes indeed” said Juneli’s father eagerly, “and I know Juneli is dying to explore every corner.”
“Come on, then” said Mother Benedicta smiling at Juneli as she led the way, “the central building where you have been waiting is the convent. The chapel is just behind. It used to be the main church not so long ago but they have a new one now so ours is just the school chapel. The big building to our right is the school and the smaller one to our left is the boarding house. You can see our playground and playing fields from here.” Mother Benedicta took them round the place showing them everything. She also introduced them to Sister Deirdre, the “Boarders’ mistress” as she was called, and her two assistants, Esther and Mary. Juneli never forgot the tour of the place. It seemed to her as if all her dreams of school were taking concrete shape at long last. It was now a real world to which she already belonged although she had to find out all about it.

“I must be going now” said Mr. Ray as he thanked Mother Benedicta for showing them round.
He saw Juneli’s face fall as he turned to go and felt a queer ache in his heart. But Mother Benedicta came to the rescue by saying, “ah here’s another arrival. It’s Rita Kapoor. She will look after Juneli until she settles down. Juneli, say goodbye to your father, dear. He has a long way to go.”
“Goodbye, little girl. I’ll come and see you soon” said Juneli’s father forcing himself to sound cheerful.
“Goodbye daddy. Give my love to Bindu and the dogs” said Juneli blinking back her tears.

But there was no time to think as Mother Benedicta called the new arrival at once.
“Rita, this is Juneli. Look after her and show her round” she told her, “it is Juneli’s first school so I’d like you to help her settle down and make friends.”
“Yes, Mother” said Rita looking curiously at Juneli. She grabbed her hand as soon as Juneli’s father’s car went out of the gate, “better hurry up and come with me if you want a bed by the window. I just saw Sister Deirdre with the lists. Have you met her yet?”
“Oh yes, I did” said Juneli.
“Well then, you might have guessed that she’s a lovely person. What about Esther and Mary? Have you seen them too? Esther or Esthu as we call her, is the thin one with glasses. And believe me, she has eyes all around her head– never misses a thing! Mary is more easy going. I only hope we don’t have Esthu in charge of our dormy this term! That would be simply awful! We won’t be able to have any fun at all!”

Juneli listened to Rita’s chatter enraptured, quite forgetting to be homesick. She took a great liking to Rita. “What class are you in?” she asked.
“I shall be in the eighth standard this term and I am looking forward to it. What about you?”
“I don’t know yet” said Juneli looking troubled, “you see, I’ve never been to school before so I’ve no idea what my standard of work is like! I am supposed to have a test tomorrow. I only hope I’ll be able to write something. It would be too bad if I am put down amongst the kiddies. I feel quite worried about it.”
Rita looked at Juneli in surprise. A girl of her own age and not been to school ever! She had been hoping Juneli would be in her own class.
“Well, who taught you if you didn’t go to school? Did you have a tutor?”
“No, my father taught me. But I’m afraid I only read things I liked and found interesting and those daddy liked to teach! There are so many things I don’t know. Why, I had never even heard of some of the subjects until I looked at the prospectus.”
“Oh you’ll soon pick up things” said Rita in an assuring voice, “I don’t think you’re a dumb belle!” Juneli burst out laughing at her words. “What funny things you do say!”
“It’s what we call the really stupid ones” said Rita.

They ran to the boarding house together. Rita knocked on the door of Sister Deirdre’s room. She asked them to come in and smiled at the girls. “Hello Rita, welcome back.”
She looked at the list on her table and said, “I have put both you and Juneli in Faith this term. Mary will be in charge. You may go and select your beds.”
“Oh good!” Rita cried joyfully, “come, Juneli, Faith is in the first floor and has the nicest balcony overlooking the garden.”
“But who or what is faith?” asked Juneli looking bewildered.
“It’s the name of our dormy, stupid!” said Rita laughing, “The middle school has three dormies, called Faith, Hope and Charity. The kiddies have Gladness and Joy. The two highest classes have four-seaters and double-seaters. Lucky souls!”
Juneli was presently led to the big and airy dormitory which she was to share with a dozen other girls. The walls were a soft pastel green. The curtains were dark green. The bedspreads were also of a green and white printed material.
“I am glad everything is green” said Juneli, “it’s my favourite colour.”
“Come on” said Rita throwing her coat on a bed by the big window, “take the one next to mine. It’s got the same nice view. Mary will be sending up our trunks and hold-alls soon, I expect.
“I say, Rita” said Juneli a little shyly, “are you sure you’d like me to have this bed? Wouldn’t you rather your best friend had it? I could easily have one of the others even if it isn’t by the window.”
“Jolly nice of you to think of it but it’s quite all right” said Rita. “I don’t have a special friend right now as Pushpa, my best pal, left last term. I’m friends with most of our lot and haven’t any favourites.”

Just then Mary came in. “Have you chosen where you are going to sleep? Those beds by the window? Well, you may have them. But no unpacking now, I’m afraid as it’s almost lunch time.”
“Come Juneli, let’s go and swing” said Rita, “we won’t have a chance once the kiddies arrive.”
“Can we hear the lunch bell from there?” Juneli asked anxiously, “I wouldn’t like to be late for my first meal in school.”
“Oh yes, we can” said Rita, “we won’t be late”.

While they were in the playground several cars arrived followed by one of the school buses. “Here comes the party from Calcutta” said Rita, “the train must have been on time for once. The Jamshedpur party will be here around tea time.”
“Does everyone come a day early?” asked Juneli.
“Nearly everyone – except for mamma’s darlings like Balbinder and snobs like Poonam who hate leaving their grand homes.”
“Don’t the others tease them?”
“Don’t they! And they get it fast and thick from the staff as well. But all comments roll off them like water off a duck’s back” said Rita.
Juneli laughed. She was quite enthralled by Rita’s nonstop chatter.
“Rita” she said a little hesitantly, “please tell me something. Is boarding school really like what you read about in stories?”
“Depends on which stories you’ve been reading” said Rita looking at her curiously.
“Well Mallory Towers, for instance or the Chalet School stories….” said Juneli.
“Not quite” said Rita at once, “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, Juneli, but a school in India can’t possibly be like a school in Cornwall or Switzerland. Our pattern of education is quite different and we don’t play hockey or lacrosse in our school and of course there are many other differences as well.”
“Are there?” asked Juneli looking so downcast that Rita laughed outright. “Cheer up” she said, “ours is quite a decent school and we do have plenty of fun even if it isn’t Mallory Towers.”
“I thought I’d come across the same kinds of things and people here” said Juneli.
“Oh well, there are plenty of things common to all schools wherever they are. And I guess schoolgirls are basically the same all the world over” said Rita.
“You mean we have characters like in the storybooks here as well?” asked Juneli sounding eager.
“Of course” said Rita. “We may not have Gwendolyn- Mary but I’m sure our darling Balbinder is quite like her in many ways. Even if we don’t have an artist as clever as Belinda, our Ina is a marvel where cartoons are concerned. It is her ambition to become another R. K. Laxman. You should see her sketches and how fast she does them!”
I’m dying to meet everyone” said Juneli, “I’ve never had any friends of my own age.”
“Good gracious! How weird!” cried Rita in round-eyed astonishment.
“I suppose it must seem odd” said Juneli, “I only hope the others are as nice and friendly as you are.”
“Tosh!” said Rita brushing aside the friendly compliment, “Tell me, what else are you expecting at school?”
“Do we have midnight feasts and tricks like those I read about?” Juneli was quite determined to find out as much as possible.
“Well” said Rita screwing up her eyes, “I haven’t been to any midnight feast myself. I tend to sleep like a log! But there’s no reason why we can’t have it some time. But NOT if Esthu is in charge! She’d wake up at the sound of dewdrops I should think.”
“What about tricks?”
“I haven’t heard of anyone trying things like stink balls and sneezing powders, bubbles on the ceiling and that sort of thing” said Rita with a chuckle, “are you thinking of trying any? Better be careful as it’s your first term.”
“I wasn’t thinking of it for myself – just wondering if anyone has done it before” said Juneli.

A group of youngsters walked into the playground.
“They want the swings, I expect” said Rita, “come on Juneli, let’s go to the dormy and do our hair. Yours looks frightful and mine isn’t much better. Sister Deirdre always insists on neatly done hair.”
“Will you tell me something else?”
“Gosh! What a question mark you are!” said Rita, “what is it now?
“Who is St. Brigid? Why is our school named after her? I don’t seem to have heard of her before” said Juneli, “and shouldn’t it be spelt Brigit?”
“No. That’s how the Irish spell the name. St. Brigid of Kildare was an Irish saint, one of the three patron saints of Ireland, actually.”
“But why an Irish saint?” asked Juneli puzzled.
“The Irish missionaries – both protestant and catholic – were the first to come to this part of India. So we have lots of places named after Irish saints. There is St. Columba’s College, St. Patrik’s School and of course, St. Brigid’s.”
“Could you tell me a little about her? I know daddy will ask me as soon as I go home.”
“I don’t know very much myself” admitted Rita, “but I remember Mother Benedicta telling us that she lived in the fifth century and founded the abbey of Kildare near Dublin. She is particularly known for her generosity to the poor and is considered the special patron of scholars. I guess that’s why our school is named after her.”

They were in the boarding house now. Both girls rushed in to comb their hair. The dormy was quite empty except for a few bags here and there which showed that their owners had already arrived.
“By the way, how many pillows have you brought, Juneli?” asked Rita.
“Pillows?” asked Juneli surprised, “only one of course. Should I have brought more?”
“Oh no” said Rita with a sudden hoot of laughter, “I merely remembered what dear Balbinder had done the first time she came here. Brought six pillows of different sizes, if you please! Said she couldn’t sleep without them! You should have seen Esthu’s face! Her eyes were literally popping out!”
“What happened?” asked Juneli with interest “was she allowed to keep them?”
“No fears! Sister Deirdre confiscated five of them and had them returned.”
Juneli burst out laughing. Rita certainly knew how to keep people amused!

Suddenly there was a booming noise. “The gong for lunch” cried Rita, “hurry up, Juneli or Mary will skin us alive. She can’t bear latecomers.”
“Mary?” asked Juneli astonished, “I thought you told me that Esther was the fierce one?”
“Juneli Ray, you must learn not to take everything so literally” said Rita, “that’s the first lesson you’ve got to learn. See?”
“OK” said Juneli laughing, “I’ll try. But it may not be a very easy lesson! People hardly ever joked with me before and daddy has always been rather serious, you know.”
“You’ll learn it fast enough if you stay with us” said Rita, “I can see that you’re the sporting sort and not a spoilt poppa’s pet!”
Both burst out laughing and ran towards the dining room.