The Baker's Daughter by Anne Forsyth Page A

Angus.
    â€˜Later,’ said Rona to herself, ‘I’ll ask again!’
    Back home, Aunt Lizzie had already packed her suitcase, and now she was scouring the kitchen. She’d drawn up a list of meals for the next few days.
    â€˜You can have mince tomorrow,’ she told Rona. ‘And tell the butcher I always have the best quality mince. There’s plenty of potatoes and carrots. And I’ve made a blancmange for your pudding. Oh, and there’s enough soup to do you two or three days!’ She sighed. ‘How you’re going to manage, I’ve no idea.’
    â€˜Don’t you fret yourself,’ said Angus. ‘We’ll shift fine. Rona here’s a good little housewife already.’
    Aunt Lizzie sniffed. ‘Well, she’ll have to learn.’
    She left the next day with a large leather suitcase and a grim expression. Rona couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Maisie—she was sure there would not be much sympathy from Aunt Lizzie.
    But as soon as she had gone the air somehow seemed lighter. Aunt Lizzie had left stew to be heated up. ‘There’s just the potatoes to peel,’ she had told Rona. ‘You can manage that all right, can’t you?’
    *        *        *
    Callum called in at the shop.
    â€˜I’m just in the town to collect an order at the ironmonger’s,’ he said. ‘What about the pictures or the dancing, maybe tomorrow night?’
    â€˜Oh, Callum,’ she said, disappointed, ‘I can’t—not this week.’ She explained about Aunt Lizzie’s departure. ‘And I’ve got to make the dinner for Father and Doug.’
    â€˜Maybe Saturday, just a walk along the front? Pity to waste these fine evenings.’
    â€˜All right. I’m sure I can manage.’
    â€˜Great. I’ll wait for you outside your house—say six o’clock.’
    Rona’s spirits lifted. With Aunt Lizzie away there would be more freedom. She would be able to go out with Callum, she’d have a free hand with the meals, and at the shop, she would be in charge—well, not quite, but at least she would be supervising the new girl when they found someone. Rona knew exactly the sort of person she wanted.
    Someone who never said a word, but was obliging and what’s more, would do as Rona told her.
    *        *        *
    Later that evening, Angus lit his pipe and settled back in his armchair with the evening paper.
    â€˜Grand dinner.’
    â€˜Aunt Lizzie left it,’ said Rona. ‘It’s me cooking from now on.’
    His eyes twinkled as he looked at her over his glasses. ‘Well, we’ll need to stock up on the indigestion tablets, won’t we?’
    â€˜Oh, you . . .’ she said, pretending to be offended.
    â€˜By the way,’ said Angus, ‘where’s your brother? He’s not been in for his meal.’
    â€˜I don’t know.’ Rona and Doug had barely spoken since their row over the car.’
    â€˜He’ll be out somewhere.’
    But she was worried—what had happened to Doug?
    It was much later, when Angus had gone to bed, that Doug stumbled through the door.
    â€˜Where have you been?’ Rona spoke sharply, trying not to show how anxious she was. ‘Your dinner’s in the oven, but it’ll be dried up by now.’
    â€˜I don’t want any dinner.’
    â€˜Doug! What’s happened? What’s the matter?’
    â€˜Oh, nothing.’ He tried to sound off-hand.
    â€˜Don’t be stupid. Tell me.’
    â€˜Keep your voice down. You’ll waken Father.’
    â€˜What has happened?’ said Rona in a loud whisper.
    â€˜Oh, well, if you must know, the car crashed into a ditch.’
    â€˜Oh, no!’
    â€˜Oh, yes,’ he said, mocking her.
    â€˜But I thought you were a good driver.’
    â€˜I