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

sleeping in the car. At least the caravan had a bed. The surrounding field and trees would provide an adequate toilet, and she could fill a few bottles with water before it was turned off so she could brush her teeth and have a wash. There might even be a packet of wet wipes amongst her belongings for a more luxurious clean. ‘I’m sure I can manage.’

Lia laughed.

‘You are funny. You don’t have to manage. Everything is arranged. Mummy has asked Mrs Dennis to prepare the spare room for you. It will be ready for you to move in tomorrow.’

‘I can’t move tomorrow. I’ll be working, so I can’t pack my things.’

‘Yes, we know that, so we will move your things for you. I told you, it’s all arranged. You don’t have to do anything.’

Mim had to object, even though it did feel like she was kicking an adorable puppy. She realised Lia meant well but she wasn’t comfortable with other people touching her things. It was a hangover from childhood that she’d not been able to shake off.

‘I can’t let you do that,’ she said, as gently as she could. ‘I’ll pack my things in the morning and put them in the car until I’ve finished at the pub.’ It wouldn’t take long. Growing up the way she had, she was used to moving on at short notice. She never fully unpacked; even at the hotel, she’d kept an emergency box of her most important things, ready to grab and go if needed. ‘It will only be for a couple of nights, won’t it?’

‘We’ll see.’ Lia grinned. ‘You might not want to come back here once you’ve experienced life at Vennhallow.’

‘I’ll have to find somewhere else soon anyway,’ Mim said. ‘You’ll need to do up this caravan for holidaymakers to use.’ It was a timely reminder. She’d grown complacent here and hadn’t even started looking for other accommodation. She’d need to find more work too if she was going to pay commercial rent. Three full days off was an indulgence, even if she was working over fifty hours on the other four days.

‘We won’t be using this caravan,’ Lia said. ‘Mummy was quite clear on that. We’ll use the other five for now and see how it goes. Yours is safe.’

That was good news, although Mim felt a twinge of guilt at limiting the number of holidays available.

‘What’s the next step after the gas and electricity repairs?’ Mim asked. ‘Should we invite Susie to have a look now so she can start work?’

Susie had been thrilled to get involved with the project and had soon dismissed Mim’s worries about whether she was well enough. They had spoken on Karen’s phone, and Susie had told Mim in a forthright way that she’d beaten cancer and so had no concerns about knocking up a few pairs of curtains and cushions for five caravans. She sounded formidable and Mim was looking forward to meeting her. The Howards had happily agreed to her involvement.

‘Absolutely,’ Lia said, ‘and I’ve arranged for Susie to come round tomorrow morning before the workmen. Everything is slotting together, isn’t it?’

‘Tomorrow?’ Mim repeated. Why did it all have to take place tomorrow? ‘But that means I won’t be here to meet Susie.’

‘It’s only the first meeting. You can join the next one. As long as you’re free,’ Lia added, laughing. ‘I heard that Corin is arranging some more tourist activities for you to sample. Honestly, darling, you didn’t need to be so polite about his fossil tour. He seems to think you enjoyed it. If he suggests one of his guided walks you must say no or he’ll march you to Dorset and back before you know it.’

Chapter Eleven

The spare bedroom at Vennhallow was as elegant as the rest of the house. It was decorated in pale grey with a king-size bed and an en suite shower room that was almost as big as Mim’s bedroom in the caravan. Lia had waited up to let Mim in after her shift at the pub and she sprawled on a chaise longue while Mim looked round.

‘Didn’t I tell you it was sumptuous?’ Lia asked, as Mim stood at the window trying to work out what direction she was facing and if there would be a sea view or not. Not that it mattered, for two nights, but she was allowed to hope, wasn’t she? ‘You won’t want to leave us once you’ve tasted this life.’

Mim flopped onto the bed and sank a few inches down, cocooned in the feathery softness of the bedding. It was total bliss.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this bed,’ she said. ‘Switch the light off when you go, won’t you?’

Bea was equally keen to make Mim feel at home. When Mim eventually dragged herself out of bed the next morning, Bea was already in the kitchen, wearing an elegant silk robe and brewing a pot of tea.

‘Good morning,’ she said when Mim came in. ‘How did you sleep, my dear? Were you warm enough?’

‘Very.’ So warm that she’d had to cast off the throw that covered the bed. This might be an old house, but the heating system was amazing.

‘Your breakfast is ready,’ Bea said, and she carried a tray over to the table and set it down. It was laden with a couple of boiled eggs, a rack of perfectly browned wholemeal toast, a dish of butter, and a steaming mug of tea.

‘This is for me?’ Mim asked, as Bea gestured for her to take a seat.

‘Of course. You can’t do a day’s work without a good breakfast. I hope you like it. Boiled eggs are about my culinary limit. I always used to make some for the children before they went to school.’

She sounded so wistful that Mim didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d prefer a bowl of porridge.

‘I’ve made your packed lunch too,’ Bea carried on, lifting an insulated sandwich bag off the kitchen counter. ‘Smoked