Secrets on Saturday by Ann Purser Read Free Book Online

“When I was young,” she said, and Sheila laughed.
    “So you’ve given it up, now you are the great age of seventeen?” Floss’s reply was aborted by the kitchen door opening and an elegant elderly lady walking briskly towards them.
    “Morning, Sheila.” Mrs. T-J looked at Floss enquiringly, and Sheila introduced her as the new apprentice cleaner.
    “I shall be teaching her exactly how you like things done,” she said diplomatically.
    “Shall I be paying double for this?” Mrs. T-J said brutally.
    Sheila shook her head. “Of course not! Mrs. M just thought it would be good for Floss to begin with the nicest and most rewarding client we have.” Dear Lord, forgive me, she said to herself. I mean it for the best.
    “So long as I am not expected to reward you with cash,” Mrs. T-J said acidly. “You’d better come on in, then. We’ve wasted enough time already.”
    Floss was a good pupil. She had a natural aptitude for things domestic, and also a healthy curiosity stimulated by the splendour of the Hall’s furnishings. “Mrs. Stratford,” she said, “have you ever broken anything valuable?”
    Sheila put her finger to her lips. “Ssshh … only once,” she replied, “and that was not here, luckily!”
    In the large front hall, Floss looked up at stags’ heads mounted on the wall, and frowned. “Ugh!” she whispered. “Were they shot in the park?”
    Sheila shrugged. “Sboudn’t think so … more likely inScotland. Mrs. T-J goes up every year for several weeks. Got a house in Sutherland, I think. In the far north.”
    “But what’s that? That thing with tusks?”
    “Some kind of pig,” Sheila whispered. “Wild boar, probably. I think it came from France. They shoot anything that moves there. Anyway,” she continued, “we’d better get on and stop talking. Mrs. T-J will have her ears pinned back, you bet.”
    When Floss arrived home full of her first day with New Brooms, her mother asked her what it was like up at the Hall, and received a detailed account. “I wouldn’t mind us living there!” Floss enthused. “Except them stuffed animals … I’d take them to the dump straight away. I reckon shooting them’s cruel enough, but stuffing them to hang on the walls is grim. They’re moth-eaten, too. Ugh!”
    Her father came in at that moment, and was updated with Floss’s day. “Ah, well,” he said when she described the trophies, “that’s the upper classes for you. What’s grim to you and me is a day’s good sport to them. Now then, Mother, what’s for supper?” he added. “Your favourite—venison casserole,” she replied.
    A FTER HER PARENTS HAD SETTLED DOWN IN FRONT OF the television, Floss appeared at the door saying she was going round to her friend Charlotte for a while. “Righto, dear, said her father, without looking round. She was not, of course, going to see Charlotte, she had an assignation with young Ben Cullen, only son of a Scottish family who were the first to move in to Blackbeny Close. They referred to themselves as the oldest inhabitants, and were much liked in the village. Organizers of an event needing help could rely on Ben’s family, and his mother sang in the church choir, belonged to the WI, and helped at the Darby and Joan Club once a month.
    Floss’s mother knew of the friendship, and approved, but her father had a heavy hand with boyfriends who turned up. Not that he was discouraging. It was the opposite,with the lad being welcomed with a friendly thump on the back, and offers of drinks, meals, books to borrow, family outings to join. By this time, the boy was thoroughly put off, deciding that there must be something seriously wrong with Floss if she needed such a sales promotion.
    Ben was new on the scene, and of course it would not be long before Floss’s father would hear of it. But by that time, Floss and her mother hoped the boy would be hooked sufficiently to ride out the welcome.
    “So how did it go, Flossie?” Ben was waiting for her in