Dangerous Decisions by Margaret Kaine Page B

new-fangled electricity installed.’
    â€˜Just think, though,’ Ida said, brightening up. ‘It’ll be a lot less work for us, without so many wicks to trim and everything.’
    â€˜Yes, well I still think the light from oil lamps was kinder. My sister says her employers got this electric and it shows up her wrinkles something rotten.’
    â€˜I wonder what it must be like,’ Ida said chin in hand. ‘To be one of them. You know, to go away for a weekend with everything done for you. Waited on and pampered, not even having to do your own packing.’
    â€˜Nor having to pay a penny for your keep,’ Annie said. ‘When we used to go and visit my granny we had to take our food with us – and a bit extra for her.’
    â€˜The upper classes know nothing about real life,’ Molly said. ‘I just hope the guests leave some generous tips when they leave, although I suppose the footmen will get most of them like what usually happens.’
    Two days later, the excursion to Lichfield proved a great success. Jacob was absent, having had to attend a business meeting, while Beatrice, after her initial nerves, enjoyed being driven in a motor car into the small but historic town. The medieval cathedral’s three graceful spires had been visible from some distance and Helena told Oliver that while locally they were known as the ‘Ladies of the Vale,’ in reality they were a symbol of the Trinity.
    The three of them stood for a few moments in the serene area before the cathedral to look up at the magnificent frontage, and then once inside, as Helena and Beatrice went down the centre aisle and slipped into a pew to pray, Oliver strolled around to admire the architecture, the ornate metal choir screen and beautiful stained-glass windows. The existence of God he dismissed as a fairy tale, but even he had to admit that centuries of prayer left their legacy in these ancient buildings.
    He turned as Helena came to join him and slipped her hand into his. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’ She led the way to the South Choir Aisle. ‘It’s called The Sleeping Children,’ she whispered, ‘portraying two sisters who died accidentally in 1812.’
    Oliver gazed down at the long marble sculpture and gave a brisk approving nod. ‘It is very well executed.’ Startled, Helena glanced up at him. Her own emotion whenever she gazed down at the lithe sleeping forms, the younger girl with her arm around her sister’s waist, was one of utter sadness at the loss of such young lives; Oliver seemed almost indifferent.
    Beatrice came to join them with a slight shiver. ‘It’s always so cold in these places. I think I’ll go outside and wait for you there.’
    â€˜I’ll come with you,’ Helena said, glad to follow her into the warm sunshine where, as they lingered, she tried to analyse why she felt so disappointed at Oliver’s reaction. After all, how could he know that the sculpture had over the years become rather special to her? Yet surely, anyone seeing and reading of children dying would have felt some pity, not merely remark about the skill of the sculptor? Again, she felt that uneasiness she had tried so hard to suppress, but when Oliver came out to join them, he was in such an infectious light-hearted mood that after a while she managed to put the incident out of her mind.
    Later, as they walked some distance to gaze at the large three-storey house where Samuel Johnson was born, Beatrice said, ‘I read somewhere that he described Lichfield as a “city of philosophers”.’
    â€˜That’s true,’ Oliver agreed, moving a little to give her more space. ‘I’d also like to see the Nag’s Head public house. Apparently he wrote some of his famous dictionary there.’
    Helena, her large-brimmed hat held in position by a gauze scarf, was enjoying the slight breeze on her skin, but she