meandered through a well-kept garden before sweeping up to a large house that resembled a relic from a Gothic novel.
The Lodge had two round towers, one on either corner of the stone facade. There was an immensely dark and ugly door and large lifeless looking windows that lay under a grey slated roof which held a multitude of stone chimneys.
As for the white gate, well I couldn’t see one. Being an avid reader of all kinds of books I could almost imagine this house harbouring an Edward Rochester or even, heaven forbid, a Count Dracula.
I rang the bell and wasn’t disappointed when it made a deep booming sound inside the interior. It was just as I expected and in keeping with this creepy house. That was why I was so surprised to find the door opened by a chubby and cheery woman who stood on the threshold, wiping her floury hands on a bright floral apron. I was half expecting, if not Quasimodo, then a hunchback at least.
‘It’s Ann, isn’t it?’ she smiled and moved aside to let me enter. ‘Come in out of the cold.’
The house was much bigger than the Pringles’ house but not so bright or cheerful.
The cheery woman introduced herself. ‘I’m Mrs Peters, the cook. I don’t normally open the door to visitors but it’s Miss Hood’s day off.’ She showed me into a dark, wood-lined room and smiled. ‘When you’ve finished chatting to Mrs Barrie, come into the kitchen for something to eat.’ She gave a small wave before departing down an equally dim corridor.
I glanced around the room and at first thought I was alone because it was so dark and quiet. Then a voice coming from the direction of the fireplace startled me. Mrs Barrie was sitting in an enormous wingback armchair that almost totally enveloped her.
‘Come and sit beside me, Ann,’ she said.
I was surprised by her voice – it was surprisingly deep and resonant and not in keeping with her fragile look. ‘You’ll have to excuse me sitting in the dark but I like to keep the light off till dusk. We get so little daylight at this time of year and I don’t like spoiling it with artificial light.’
I couldn’t understand why the room was so dark because the sun was still shining brightly when I entered the house. I then realised this room faced the back of the house and there were tall trees so close to the windows that the branches tapped gently against the windowpanes.
I sat down opposite Mrs Barrie, my hands clutched tightly in my lap. She was tiny and thin. Almost shrunken in stature, she had a deeply lined face and short white hair cut in a similar but softer version of Mrs Pringle’s.
Mrs Barrie placed thin, yellowed hands that showed raised blue veins on the arms of the chair. She wore four rings – all vying with each other to be the most beautiful in the diamonds and precious stones stakes.
‘Now, Ann, I’m sorry my housekeeper has the day off – it isn’t her normal one but she had unexpected business to attend to. But you’ve met Mrs Peters. The job consists of helping Miss Hood with the heavy housework because, like myself, she is getting on in years. Some days she will need specific jobs done but, apart from that, the work shouldn’t be too demanding.’
She fixed me with a gaze from her bright, bird-like eyes that suggested she liked to laugh a lot. ‘Is there anything you would like to know?’
I explained about the need to get two days off each week and she nodded. ‘Yes, Jane Pringle has told me about the tragic loss of your mother, Ann, and the fact you bring up your baby sister. Well, if you decide to take the job here, the wage is ten shillings a week. Plus, of course, your bed and board will be free.’
I clutched my hands together even more tightly, trying hard not to shout for joy at the mention of this wonderful sum of money, and I must have given the impression of a statue.
Still she didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’ll let Mrs Peters show you your room and, if you can start on the second of January, that
The Lodge had two round towers, one on either corner of the stone facade. There was an immensely dark and ugly door and large lifeless looking windows that lay under a grey slated roof which held a multitude of stone chimneys.
As for the white gate, well I couldn’t see one. Being an avid reader of all kinds of books I could almost imagine this house harbouring an Edward Rochester or even, heaven forbid, a Count Dracula.
I rang the bell and wasn’t disappointed when it made a deep booming sound inside the interior. It was just as I expected and in keeping with this creepy house. That was why I was so surprised to find the door opened by a chubby and cheery woman who stood on the threshold, wiping her floury hands on a bright floral apron. I was half expecting, if not Quasimodo, then a hunchback at least.
‘It’s Ann, isn’t it?’ she smiled and moved aside to let me enter. ‘Come in out of the cold.’
The house was much bigger than the Pringles’ house but not so bright or cheerful.
The cheery woman introduced herself. ‘I’m Mrs Peters, the cook. I don’t normally open the door to visitors but it’s Miss Hood’s day off.’ She showed me into a dark, wood-lined room and smiled. ‘When you’ve finished chatting to Mrs Barrie, come into the kitchen for something to eat.’ She gave a small wave before departing down an equally dim corridor.
I glanced around the room and at first thought I was alone because it was so dark and quiet. Then a voice coming from the direction of the fireplace startled me. Mrs Barrie was sitting in an enormous wingback armchair that almost totally enveloped her.
‘Come and sit beside me, Ann,’ she said.
I was surprised by her voice – it was surprisingly deep and resonant and not in keeping with her fragile look. ‘You’ll have to excuse me sitting in the dark but I like to keep the light off till dusk. We get so little daylight at this time of year and I don’t like spoiling it with artificial light.’
I couldn’t understand why the room was so dark because the sun was still shining brightly when I entered the house. I then realised this room faced the back of the house and there were tall trees so close to the windows that the branches tapped gently against the windowpanes.
I sat down opposite Mrs Barrie, my hands clutched tightly in my lap. She was tiny and thin. Almost shrunken in stature, she had a deeply lined face and short white hair cut in a similar but softer version of Mrs Pringle’s.
Mrs Barrie placed thin, yellowed hands that showed raised blue veins on the arms of the chair. She wore four rings – all vying with each other to be the most beautiful in the diamonds and precious stones stakes.
‘Now, Ann, I’m sorry my housekeeper has the day off – it isn’t her normal one but she had unexpected business to attend to. But you’ve met Mrs Peters. The job consists of helping Miss Hood with the heavy housework because, like myself, she is getting on in years. Some days she will need specific jobs done but, apart from that, the work shouldn’t be too demanding.’
She fixed me with a gaze from her bright, bird-like eyes that suggested she liked to laugh a lot. ‘Is there anything you would like to know?’
I explained about the need to get two days off each week and she nodded. ‘Yes, Jane Pringle has told me about the tragic loss of your mother, Ann, and the fact you bring up your baby sister. Well, if you decide to take the job here, the wage is ten shillings a week. Plus, of course, your bed and board will be free.’
I clutched my hands together even more tightly, trying hard not to shout for joy at the mention of this wonderful sum of money, and I must have given the impression of a statue.
Still she didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’ll let Mrs Peters show you your room and, if you can start on the second of January, that
Similar Books
