will be fine. She rang a small bell that was positioned on the wall by the side of her chair. ‘Now remember to have something to eat before you leave and you can let me know if you want the job.’ She retreated back into the depths of the huge chair.
Mrs Peters led me down the dim corridor then up two flights of stairs and along another corridor before opening a door at the far end. Stepping into the room was a delight when I realised it was in one of the towers I had seen on my arrival. The window faced an expanse of sand dunes that swept down to the sea. I gazed in rapture at it. It seemed as if the sea stretched forever before disappearing on the far grey horizon.
I was mystified as to why Mrs Barrie liked to sit in her dark room while the humble housemaid had all the sunshine and a wonderful view. I said this to the cook but she said Mrs Barrie had a lovely view from her bedroom as well.
Later, when I joined her in the lovely cosy kitchen, I was amazed by the unusual cooking range.
‘It’s an Aga cooker,’ she explained. ‘Put in this house at great expense but everything in this house is the best. All except …’ She stopped. ‘Oh never mind me – I’m chatting here while you’re dying for a cup of tea.’
She pottered around the kitchen, opening great cavernous cupboards and still chatting. ‘Do you think you’ll take the job, Ann?’
She handed me my tea in a nice thick cup and then produced a variety of scones, cakes and biscuits from a selection of large tins. I had never seen anything like it. It was a palatial feast and I wished Granny could have seen it. A fancy treat in our house meant the occasional tin of syrup or jar of strawberry jam – not this wonderful array of goodies.
After I had munched a thick, floury scone, I said, ‘Aye, Mrs Peters, I’ll be taking the job.’
A flicker of emotion crossed her face then she smiled. ‘Good. It’ll be grand to have a young face about the place.’
I went and told Mrs Barrie and she seemed very pleased but afterwards, as I travelled back on the bus, I recalled that strange expression on the cook’s face. It had been a mere flicker so I decided I had imagined it. I sat back in my seat, my head buzzing with all the good news I had to give to Granny.
5
It was Hogmanay and I was excited. Danny and Maddie were meeting me later that evening and we planned to see the New Year in together at the city square.
One spot of worry was Dad. I could never find him at home on any of my many visits to the Hilltown and now, on this last day of the year, he suddenly appeared at the Overgate around teatime.
Granny, who had also been irritated by his thoughtless and strange behaviour, now looked with annoyance at him as he sat looking ill at ease in her kitchen. She spoke bluntly. ‘I thought you would want to see more of your family, Johnny, instead of less.’
I felt a bit sorry for him. Although never plump, he had now lost so much weight that his old trousers clung to his thin legs and a threadbare jacket hung limply from his shoulders. A thick woolly scarf covered his scrawny neck. Still, he had taken the time to shave which was a slight improvement on his gaunt, stubbled appearance at the funeral.
He looked at Granny, his eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I’ll be as right as rain in a wee while and then Ann and Lily can come back and live at home. I don’t expect you to look after them forever.’
Granny held up her hands and looked embarrassed. ‘It’s not that Johnny.’
He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him. ‘As I said, it’s not that. It’s just that the lassies have lost their mother and they need you more than ever. We know you’re still grieving for Lily but we are as well. Ann has tried to see you lots of times but you’re never in the house.’
‘Aye, you’re right,’ he said sadly, putting his empty soup bowl by the side of the sink before pouring out a cup of strong black tea. Then he gazed at us with a cheerful
Mrs Peters led me down the dim corridor then up two flights of stairs and along another corridor before opening a door at the far end. Stepping into the room was a delight when I realised it was in one of the towers I had seen on my arrival. The window faced an expanse of sand dunes that swept down to the sea. I gazed in rapture at it. It seemed as if the sea stretched forever before disappearing on the far grey horizon.
I was mystified as to why Mrs Barrie liked to sit in her dark room while the humble housemaid had all the sunshine and a wonderful view. I said this to the cook but she said Mrs Barrie had a lovely view from her bedroom as well.
Later, when I joined her in the lovely cosy kitchen, I was amazed by the unusual cooking range.
‘It’s an Aga cooker,’ she explained. ‘Put in this house at great expense but everything in this house is the best. All except …’ She stopped. ‘Oh never mind me – I’m chatting here while you’re dying for a cup of tea.’
She pottered around the kitchen, opening great cavernous cupboards and still chatting. ‘Do you think you’ll take the job, Ann?’
She handed me my tea in a nice thick cup and then produced a variety of scones, cakes and biscuits from a selection of large tins. I had never seen anything like it. It was a palatial feast and I wished Granny could have seen it. A fancy treat in our house meant the occasional tin of syrup or jar of strawberry jam – not this wonderful array of goodies.
After I had munched a thick, floury scone, I said, ‘Aye, Mrs Peters, I’ll be taking the job.’
A flicker of emotion crossed her face then she smiled. ‘Good. It’ll be grand to have a young face about the place.’
I went and told Mrs Barrie and she seemed very pleased but afterwards, as I travelled back on the bus, I recalled that strange expression on the cook’s face. It had been a mere flicker so I decided I had imagined it. I sat back in my seat, my head buzzing with all the good news I had to give to Granny.
5
It was Hogmanay and I was excited. Danny and Maddie were meeting me later that evening and we planned to see the New Year in together at the city square.
One spot of worry was Dad. I could never find him at home on any of my many visits to the Hilltown and now, on this last day of the year, he suddenly appeared at the Overgate around teatime.
Granny, who had also been irritated by his thoughtless and strange behaviour, now looked with annoyance at him as he sat looking ill at ease in her kitchen. She spoke bluntly. ‘I thought you would want to see more of your family, Johnny, instead of less.’
I felt a bit sorry for him. Although never plump, he had now lost so much weight that his old trousers clung to his thin legs and a threadbare jacket hung limply from his shoulders. A thick woolly scarf covered his scrawny neck. Still, he had taken the time to shave which was a slight improvement on his gaunt, stubbled appearance at the funeral.
He looked at Granny, his eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I’ll be as right as rain in a wee while and then Ann and Lily can come back and live at home. I don’t expect you to look after them forever.’
Granny held up her hands and looked embarrassed. ‘It’s not that Johnny.’
He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him. ‘As I said, it’s not that. It’s just that the lassies have lost their mother and they need you more than ever. We know you’re still grieving for Lily but we are as well. Ann has tried to see you lots of times but you’re never in the house.’
‘Aye, you’re right,’ he said sadly, putting his empty soup bowl by the side of the sink before pouring out a cup of strong black tea. Then he gazed at us with a cheerful
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