all right in
the day time, with you here. I’ve got my work to do, anyway, so I
don’t go thinking about a lot of stuff. But in the evening it’s…
well, it’s sort of funny with Ma not here.’
Beth felt a pang of sympathy at the sight of
David’s wistful face. ‘It’s a shame Biff died.’ David’s old dog had
been found dead one January morning, when David had gone to call
him. ‘Animals are good company. It must be awful, being here all on
your own.’ She reached out and put her small hand over David’s
broad one.
David turned his hand palm upwards to take
hold of hers. ‘It’s all right, I suppose. Hey, I got a letter from
Ma, I picked it up this morning.’
‘Another one? She must be writing just about
every day.’
‘She said before she went away that she’d
write a lot. It sounds like she’s having a good time.’ He used his
free hand to fish the letter from his jacket pocket and spread it
out in front of him. ‘She says she went to a play—a Shakespeare
one. It was really good, she reckons.’
‘I wonder what it was like,’ Beth mused.
‘Richard’s been to plays and things. I suppose Aunt Lily might
have, too. What else does Aunt Amy say?’
‘There’s some stuff about dresses. Sarah’s
getting her some new dresses. She sounds pretty excited about that,
too.’
‘Oh, Sarah , is it?’ Beth said tartly,
her sharp reaction taking her by surprise. ‘I didn’t know you were
such good friends with her. What happened to “Miss Millish”?’
‘Well, she said to call her that,’ David
said, clearly unsure just how he had earned such an attack. ‘And
she’s the sort of person that you just do what she says, you know.
Like with your ma.’
‘She’s a lot younger than Ma,’ Beth said,
wondering as she did so why she felt the need to argue the point.
‘I heard Ma say she’s twenty-one. She’s really pretty, too.’
‘Is she only twenty-one? She sort of seems
older than that.’
‘Do you think she’s pretty?’ Beth
pressed.
I suppose so. Not as pretty as Ma, though.’
He grinned at Beth. ‘Not as pretty as you, either.’
Beth knew she was being teased, but that did
not prevent her taking a secret pleasure in the compliment. She
would not let David see it, though. ‘What a lot of rot! Miss
Millish has got such pretty dresses and things. She looks much
nicer than I do.’ Failing to raise the hoped-for contradiction, she
returned to more straightforward conversation. ‘She must be really
well-off, eh?’
‘Mmm. Ma says it’s a neat house she’s got,
too. I bet it is. I don’t suppose she misses this place.’
He looked wistful again, and Beth resorted
to a method that never failed to cheer her if she found herself as
low in spirits as David seemed to be. ‘I’d better get on and do
some work, or I’ll never get through it all,’ she said, extricating
her hand from his. ‘You look after the kitten for a bit.’
She fetched a tiny bundle of fur from a box
she had placed close to the range. The bundle stirred, and unfolded
itself into a small black kitten that stared around the room with
bright eyes and gave a tiny squeak of surprise at being moved.
The kitten was the runt of the latest litter
born at Beth’s home, and she had soon realised that the little
creature had no prospect of fighting its siblings for a fair share
of its mother’s milk. Turning down her father’s well-meant offer to
put the kitten out of its supposed misery, Beth had taken it upon
herself to rear the waif.
As was usually the case with Beth’s waifs
and strays, the kitten showed every sign of thriving. But Beth was
taking no chances; rather than leave the kitten at home where she
could not be sure anyone would remember to feed it as often as it
needed, she brought it to David’s farm every day, balancing the
kitten in a small box on her lap as she rode.
‘It’s all right, kitty,’ Beth soothed.
‘Davie will give you some milk.’ She placed the kitten on David’s
lap,
the day time, with you here. I’ve got my work to do, anyway, so I
don’t go thinking about a lot of stuff. But in the evening it’s…
well, it’s sort of funny with Ma not here.’
Beth felt a pang of sympathy at the sight of
David’s wistful face. ‘It’s a shame Biff died.’ David’s old dog had
been found dead one January morning, when David had gone to call
him. ‘Animals are good company. It must be awful, being here all on
your own.’ She reached out and put her small hand over David’s
broad one.
David turned his hand palm upwards to take
hold of hers. ‘It’s all right, I suppose. Hey, I got a letter from
Ma, I picked it up this morning.’
‘Another one? She must be writing just about
every day.’
‘She said before she went away that she’d
write a lot. It sounds like she’s having a good time.’ He used his
free hand to fish the letter from his jacket pocket and spread it
out in front of him. ‘She says she went to a play—a Shakespeare
one. It was really good, she reckons.’
‘I wonder what it was like,’ Beth mused.
‘Richard’s been to plays and things. I suppose Aunt Lily might
have, too. What else does Aunt Amy say?’
‘There’s some stuff about dresses. Sarah’s
getting her some new dresses. She sounds pretty excited about that,
too.’
‘Oh, Sarah , is it?’ Beth said tartly,
her sharp reaction taking her by surprise. ‘I didn’t know you were
such good friends with her. What happened to “Miss Millish”?’
‘Well, she said to call her that,’ David
said, clearly unsure just how he had earned such an attack. ‘And
she’s the sort of person that you just do what she says, you know.
Like with your ma.’
‘She’s a lot younger than Ma,’ Beth said,
wondering as she did so why she felt the need to argue the point.
‘I heard Ma say she’s twenty-one. She’s really pretty, too.’
‘Is she only twenty-one? She sort of seems
older than that.’
‘Do you think she’s pretty?’ Beth
pressed.
I suppose so. Not as pretty as Ma, though.’
He grinned at Beth. ‘Not as pretty as you, either.’
Beth knew she was being teased, but that did
not prevent her taking a secret pleasure in the compliment. She
would not let David see it, though. ‘What a lot of rot! Miss
Millish has got such pretty dresses and things. She looks much
nicer than I do.’ Failing to raise the hoped-for contradiction, she
returned to more straightforward conversation. ‘She must be really
well-off, eh?’
‘Mmm. Ma says it’s a neat house she’s got,
too. I bet it is. I don’t suppose she misses this place.’
He looked wistful again, and Beth resorted
to a method that never failed to cheer her if she found herself as
low in spirits as David seemed to be. ‘I’d better get on and do
some work, or I’ll never get through it all,’ she said, extricating
her hand from his. ‘You look after the kitten for a bit.’
She fetched a tiny bundle of fur from a box
she had placed close to the range. The bundle stirred, and unfolded
itself into a small black kitten that stared around the room with
bright eyes and gave a tiny squeak of surprise at being moved.
The kitten was the runt of the latest litter
born at Beth’s home, and she had soon realised that the little
creature had no prospect of fighting its siblings for a fair share
of its mother’s milk. Turning down her father’s well-meant offer to
put the kitten out of its supposed misery, Beth had taken it upon
herself to rear the waif.
As was usually the case with Beth’s waifs
and strays, the kitten showed every sign of thriving. But Beth was
taking no chances; rather than leave the kitten at home where she
could not be sure anyone would remember to feed it as often as it
needed, she brought it to David’s farm every day, balancing the
kitten in a small box on her lap as she rode.
‘It’s all right, kitty,’ Beth soothed.
‘Davie will give you some milk.’ She placed the kitten on David’s
lap,
Similar Books
