The Secret Orphan. Glynis Peters

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       Chapter 9

      The following morning Elenor heard the soft singing of a child from outside the back door and it occurred to her she’d not met the Sherbournes’ daughter. She squinted into the sunshine. A tiny blonde child sat on a wall swinging her legs and pulling the petals from a daisy.

      ‘He loves me. He loves me not.’

      ‘I’m sure he loves you,’ Elenor interrupted the girl’s rhyme. ‘I’m Elenor. Mrs Matthews’ niece. You must be Rose.’

      The little girl jumped down from the wall.

      ‘I’m nearly five. How old are you? Did you bring a cow from your farm?’ Rose fired questions one after the other with great enthusiasm.

      Elenor laughed. ‘No, it wouldn’t fit on the bus. And congratulations on being nearly five, I will be nineteen next month.’

      ‘Will you have cake? Can I have some? Pleeease!’ Rose threw aside the flower and pressed her hands together as if in prayer.

      Elenor was reminded of a pretty doll with a rosebud mouth and smiling eyes.

      ‘Rose!’ Victoria’s sharp voice interrupted the laughter and made Elenor jump.

      Rose’s facial expression moved to sombre.

      ‘Coming,’ she called.

      ‘We’ll meet later and discuss cake,’ said Elenor.

      ‘I’m to stay away from you,’ Rose said. ‘I’m not to be a bother.’

      As she ran back inside, Elenor watched her curls bounce on her shoulders and thought the child could never be a bother to anyone. She followed her into the house just in time to see Victoria reprimand the girl.

      ‘I told you not to disturb Miss Cardew. Stay in your room until you are told to come out. Understood?’

      Rose nodded, and a single tear dripped from the end of her nose.

      ‘She spoke to me. I was already there,’ she said through gulping sniffles.

      Elenor stepped inside the kitchen.

      ‘It’s true, Victoria. I distracted your daughter and we made friends,’ she said in a gentle tone, attempting to calm Victoria down.

      ‘Well, she’s been told to keep out from under our feet on more than one occasion. Go to your room, Rose.’

      ‘Victoria, what if Rose is given a useful job? She could help us carry the books from your rooms to the day room.’

      Rose looked to Elenor and gave a beautiful smile which lit up her pretty blue eyes and in those few seconds Elenor, unsure why, felt an overwhelming feeling of wanting to protect her.

      Victoria folded a tea towel over the back of a chair and Elenor could see she was struggling with the suggestion.

      ‘After all, why have her sitting around doing nothing? Idle hands are of no use. On the farm she would have several jobs. Think about it, but I am keen to get started.’

      Not waiting for a reply, Elenor left the kitchen and entered the day room. She set herself a writing space under the window.

      ‘I’ve got four books in my arms and they are heavy,’ Rose’s voice called out from the doorway. She was peering above a small pile of paperbacks.

      ‘Come and put them down here.’ Elenor patted her desk.

      ‘I’ll get some more. This is fun and …’

      Victoria entered the room and Rose ran out.

      Two hours later the shelves were full.

      After lemonade with Rose and Victoria, Elenor sat at the desk looking through an atlas for Canada. When she found it, she traced her way across the country until she’d found Vancouver. She rushed to her aunt sitting in the parlour.

      ‘I found Canada. Look!’

      Her startled aunt looked up from her newspaper and gave a smile.

      ‘I do think it was founded by another keen soul, but I congratulate you Elenor.’

      Elenor lifted a chair from the corner of the room and sat beside her aunt.

      ‘I’m sorry, did I disturb you? It is fascinating, this book, and Canada looks enormous compared to England. Here it is, see?’

      Her aunt peered into the atlas.

      ‘I do see, yes. Vast lands are uninhabited, and there are others where brown bears wander free, alongside wolves.’

      Elenor sat back in wonderment.

      ‘I’d be so scared if I came across a bear on our farm,’ she declared.

      ‘The chances are minimal. I would have liked to visit Canada, but your uncle was not a traveller.’

      Her aunt tapped the book. ‘Where shall we visit next, Wales? It is closer to home. Your uncle’s family originated from there. A place called, Blaenau Ffestiniog, now there’s a name for you.’

      They spent СКАЧАТЬ