Finding Home by Kate Field (read book .txt) 📗

in my socks,’ she said. She looked pointedly at Corin’s feet. He wasn’t wearing shoes either and the heels of both his socks were almost threadbare. In fact, now she studied him properly, all of him looked shabby – at least in comparison to the rest of the family; his jeans were frayed at the bottom and his jumper sported a hole above the left elbow. Unless he’d paid a fortune for the distressed look, his clothes must be even older than hers.

He laughed but had no chance to reply as Bea called them to the table for lunch. Mim let the conversation drift on around her as she tucked into thick slices of roast lamb, roast and mashed potatoes, and heaps of fresh vegetables. Vegetables! After two weeks of living off sandwiches, nothing had ever tasted so good. She was so absorbed in her food that she barely noticed that the conversation had turned to her again.

‘And she’s insisting on a barter system until she has enough money to pay rent,’ Bea was explaining to Corin. ‘Quite unnecessary, of course, because it’s not as if we’re doing anything else with those caravans.’

‘Quite understandable, too,’ Corin said. He put down his knife and fork. ‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting to pay your way, rather than having everything handed to you.’

‘So you won’t mind if Mim comes to clean your house?’ Bea persisted. ‘We can’t upset Mrs Dennis and her team by letting her help here and Ros has Anya.’

‘I’m perfectly capable of cleaning my own house. How is she supposed to find a job and earn money if she’s always doing favours for us?’ Corin leaned forward and peered down the table at Mim. ‘Sorry to talk about you as if you’re not here. What sort of work are you looking for? What qualifications do you have?’

‘I have an A level in maths.’ It sounded a bit pathetic on its own but Mim was proud of it. It had been an achievement against the odds. ‘My experience is in working in a hotel but I’ll do anything. I don’t mind cleaning, or shop work, or bar work. I can’t afford to be choosy. As long as it pays, I’ll do it.’

She felt a number of curious gazes land on her as she said that. How could they understand, sitting around a table piled with wasted food and bottles of wine, what it was like to have nothing? She saw a flash of sympathy on Corin’s face and quickly looked down at her plate. She didn’t need anyone’s pity.

‘I’ve nothing vacant at the moment but Janet’s your answer if that’s the sort of work you want,’ Bill said, setting down his glass with a decisive thump. ‘She owns the shop and the pub in the village, and has a couple of holiday cottages. It’s quite the business empire. She might have something for you.’

‘Oh Daddy, you can’t send Mim to work for Janet,’ Lia replied, pulling a face.

‘Does she have a vacancy?’ Mim asked. It sounded perfect, if she ignored Lia’s ongoing grimaces and whatever they meant.

‘She always has vacancies.’ Corin smiled. ‘This is one occasion where you might decide to be choosy.’

‘Nonsense,’ Bill said. ‘Janet’s a character but harmless enough.’

It wasn’t a gushing recommendation but was good enough for Mim.

‘Will she be open tomorrow?’ Mim asked. ‘Could you show me the way?’

‘Go with Corin,’ Ros suggested. ‘She once let him off a penny when he didn’t have enough money for sweets. It’s her only recorded act of kindness. He might be your lucky charm.’

‘But we were going out for petrol anyway,’ Mim said, appealing to Bill.

‘Oh, Corin can deal with all that. You don’t want an old dog like me when he’s around. Besides, if all goes well with Janet, you may not need that petrol, eh?’

This time Mim was ready when the knock came on the caravan door the next morning; she wasn’t going to let another member of the Howard family catch her in her pyjamas. She opened the door and Dickens trotted in while Corin leant on the veranda balustrade with his back to her, looking out over the field of caravans. A fine drizzle hung in the air and was making the ends of his hair curl out at the nape of his neck but at least he was properly dressed today in boots and a thick coat that looked like an old favourite but didn’t have any obvious holes. He certainly didn’t share the sartorial elegance of his family from what Mim had seen so far. He turned and smiled.

‘Ready?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Come on, Dickens. Time to go.’

The dog obediently scampered out of the caravan and ran at Corin’s heels as they followed the track towards the garage where Mim’s car was parked.

‘You don’t have to come,’ Mim said, matching his pace as he strode along. ‘I can manage if you tell me how to find the petrol station and Janet’s shop.’

‘That’s no good. I have instructions to pay for your petrol.’

‘I can pay myself now, with the money I earned at the wedding.’ It was one thing taking the money from Bill – she’d driven him down from Lancashire, after all. She felt more uncomfortable about Corin paying, however short of money she was. That felt more like charity and she wasn’t a charity case. She’d hit an unlucky patch but there were thousands worse off than she was. ‘You said it yourself. I’d prefer to pay my way, not rely on handouts.’

‘Don’t be so prickly. This isn’t a handout. Filling your car with petrol is simply putting you back in the position you were in before you met Mum and Dad.’ Corin picked up a stick and threw it for Dickens. ‘You shouldn’t be out of pocket for doing them a favour.’

‘Prickly?’ Mim repeated. She was prepared to admit – grudgingly – that he had a point with everything else, but not about that. ‘It’s not prickly to have