visiting the home of her husband’s employer, surely that meant that she should wear a decent dress and her most respectable shoes?
In the end, she compromised. She washed thoroughly, brushed her hair hard and put on a clean blue cotton dress. Since her footwear consisted of the shoes she had got married in, some wellington boots and a pair of ancient sandals her choice in this line was limited, and it shrank further when she thought of the length of the neglected gravel drive which led from the lodge to the castle. Trudging up there in her best shoes would be hell, and it wouldn’t do the shoes much good either. She would sweat like a pig in her wellingtons, so the sandals it would be.
Having made up her mind about her clothing she then tried her hair loose, tied back, and pinned to the crown of her head with a couple of tortoiseshell combs which had once belonged to old Mrs Coburn. She looked really elegant in the tortoiseshell combs, but practicality told her that she wouldn’t look elegant long, not scrubbing floors she wouldn’t. So she tied her hair back with a clean piece of string, checked her appearance again, and went through to the kitchen with Helen tucked under her arm.
It was clean, cleared, tidy; of Matthew there was no sign. She found him in the front room, reading a newspaper, sitting beside the empty cradle. He looked up and smiled as she laid the already sleepy child among its blankets.
‘You look very smart,’ he said approvingly. ‘Are you off then?’
‘Yes,’ Hester said shortly. ‘Shan’t be long.’
‘It’s all right, I can manage.’
‘Not when she begins to squall for her ten o’clock feed you can’t,’ Hester reminded him. ‘But I’ll be back long before then.’
Matthew, realising that she was still cross, grunted and returned to his paper, so Hester went back and patted his shoulder, then bolted out of the front door before he could grab her hand and start any silly nonsense. That was the trouble, she thought half-guiltily, she had quite enough to do with the house and Helen, without starting any of that up again, so she couldn’t let him think … Of course the present arrangement was only temporary, but … Her thoughts broke down in confusion and she turned them determinedly away from her marriage and Matthew and fixed her eyes on the castle.
In the golden evening light, for the sun was sinking over a cobalt sea behind her, it looked more romantic than ever. The trees were in full leaf now, the creeper which decorated the walls was luxuriant, the ornamental trees, planted long ago by a richer owner than the present one, were in flower. As she got nearer, Hester guessed, the flaws would begin to show but from here it was a fairytale castle, beautiful, impregnable.
The drive was a long one, though unimpressive. Because of the lie of the land – and the wind from the sea, Hester guessed – there were no trees until you got into the shelter of the cliff, so the drive passed across flat pastureland, grazed by sheep and a few cattle, with scarcely a bush to vary the monotony. If you had driven up it, in a carriage and four or a common-or-garden motor car, you might not have found it a particularly trying ride, but to Hester, slogging along on foot, it seemed a boring journey. It would be easier to go intothe village, Hester thought crossly, willing the castle to get closer more quickly. It would be nearer to walk into the little town. Why shouldn’t I get a job somewhere else? Why shouldn’t I catch a bus into Rhyl each day and have some fun? Imagine walking all this way in the rain or the snow! And at the end of the walk an icy old ruin, whereas if I went into Rhyl I could work in a nice warm hotel, or a shop, or even at the pier theatre, or a dance-hall. I’ll have to talk to Matthew about it. After all, it’s me that’s doing the work, not him – or the old man!
But no walk lasts for ever and at length Hester found herself going in under a perfectly enormous
In the end, she compromised. She washed thoroughly, brushed her hair hard and put on a clean blue cotton dress. Since her footwear consisted of the shoes she had got married in, some wellington boots and a pair of ancient sandals her choice in this line was limited, and it shrank further when she thought of the length of the neglected gravel drive which led from the lodge to the castle. Trudging up there in her best shoes would be hell, and it wouldn’t do the shoes much good either. She would sweat like a pig in her wellingtons, so the sandals it would be.
Having made up her mind about her clothing she then tried her hair loose, tied back, and pinned to the crown of her head with a couple of tortoiseshell combs which had once belonged to old Mrs Coburn. She looked really elegant in the tortoiseshell combs, but practicality told her that she wouldn’t look elegant long, not scrubbing floors she wouldn’t. So she tied her hair back with a clean piece of string, checked her appearance again, and went through to the kitchen with Helen tucked under her arm.
It was clean, cleared, tidy; of Matthew there was no sign. She found him in the front room, reading a newspaper, sitting beside the empty cradle. He looked up and smiled as she laid the already sleepy child among its blankets.
‘You look very smart,’ he said approvingly. ‘Are you off then?’
‘Yes,’ Hester said shortly. ‘Shan’t be long.’
‘It’s all right, I can manage.’
‘Not when she begins to squall for her ten o’clock feed you can’t,’ Hester reminded him. ‘But I’ll be back long before then.’
Matthew, realising that she was still cross, grunted and returned to his paper, so Hester went back and patted his shoulder, then bolted out of the front door before he could grab her hand and start any silly nonsense. That was the trouble, she thought half-guiltily, she had quite enough to do with the house and Helen, without starting any of that up again, so she couldn’t let him think … Of course the present arrangement was only temporary, but … Her thoughts broke down in confusion and she turned them determinedly away from her marriage and Matthew and fixed her eyes on the castle.
In the golden evening light, for the sun was sinking over a cobalt sea behind her, it looked more romantic than ever. The trees were in full leaf now, the creeper which decorated the walls was luxuriant, the ornamental trees, planted long ago by a richer owner than the present one, were in flower. As she got nearer, Hester guessed, the flaws would begin to show but from here it was a fairytale castle, beautiful, impregnable.
The drive was a long one, though unimpressive. Because of the lie of the land – and the wind from the sea, Hester guessed – there were no trees until you got into the shelter of the cliff, so the drive passed across flat pastureland, grazed by sheep and a few cattle, with scarcely a bush to vary the monotony. If you had driven up it, in a carriage and four or a common-or-garden motor car, you might not have found it a particularly trying ride, but to Hester, slogging along on foot, it seemed a boring journey. It would be easier to go intothe village, Hester thought crossly, willing the castle to get closer more quickly. It would be nearer to walk into the little town. Why shouldn’t I get a job somewhere else? Why shouldn’t I catch a bus into Rhyl each day and have some fun? Imagine walking all this way in the rain or the snow! And at the end of the walk an icy old ruin, whereas if I went into Rhyl I could work in a nice warm hotel, or a shop, or even at the pier theatre, or a dance-hall. I’ll have to talk to Matthew about it. After all, it’s me that’s doing the work, not him – or the old man!
But no walk lasts for ever and at length Hester found herself going in under a perfectly enormous
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