The Baker's Daughter by Anne Forsyth Page B

wasn’t driving. Neela was. Or rather I was teaching her to drive.’
    â€˜And?’ Rona was nearly speechless. ‘Whose car was it? Oh, Doug, you didn’t borrow it, you didn’t—steal it?’
    â€˜What do you take me for?’ His voice rose again. ‘I’m not a thief.’
    â€˜Then where did you get it?’
    â€˜It was Neela’s brother’s car. He’s away abroad for a couple of months. He said I could drive it—if I was careful. But she insisted she wanted to learn to drive. And now, well it’s in a ditch up the Bridge Road. I wish,’ he added bitterly, ‘I had never set eyes on that stupid woman.’

ANGUS DESPAIRS
    â€˜You’re a fool, Doug.’Angus was really angry. It took a lot to rile him for he was generally a placid man. ‘What on earth possessed you to take up with a girl like that?’
    He sighed and rubbed his brow. ‘As if there weren’t enough nice lassies around.’
    There had been no keeping from Angus the whole business of the car, and it came out too, that he knew of Neela and her reputation in the town as something of a party girl. ‘She’s been nothing but trouble, that girl,’ he went on rubbing salt into the wound. ‘And you’ll have to pay for any repairs—and face up to her brother.’
    It was then he felt he had said plenty. Doug, sitting at the kitchen table, looked miserable enough, but a moment later Angus couldn’t resist adding, ‘If your mother had lived to see the day . . . and it’s maybe just as well your aunt Lizzie’s not here.’
    Doug roused himself to say, ‘The garage got the car out of the ditch and it’s not badly damaged. Just a headlamp dented.’
    â€˜Aye well,’ said Angus.
    â€˜And she, Neela, said she’ll pay for the damage,’ Doug went on.
    â€˜Aye, well. You’ve learned your lesson and you’ll stay away from her in future. She’s nothing but trouble, and you’re not the first one to find out either apparently.’
    â€˜I’m away out.’ Doug got up and Rona followed him out of the door.
    She hadn’t the heart to say, ‘You might at least help with the dishes.’
    She had never seen Doug, her cheerful, good-natured brother, look so woebegone.
    Doug, who could always make her laugh with his Charlie Chaplin imitations, or stories of the other lads at the garage—he looked as if his world had fallen apart.
    Rona realised it was not so much the damage to the car that was upsetting him. That could be fixed, but the damage to his pride, the knowledge that Neela didn’t care a bit for him, that she was only out for a good time—that was what hurt.
    â€˜There’re other girls,’ she said a little timidly.
    â€˜I never want to see her again. Her brother blamed me, for letting her drive the car, and you’d think it was my fault she steered into a ditch. She’s got no sense at all,’ he added morosely.
    â€˜Oh, Doug, forget it. No-one was hurt.’ Rona tried to cheer him.
    â€˜That’s right. Well, it’s a good thing Aunt Lizzie is away. I’d never have heard the end of it.’ He gave a weak attempt at a grin. ‘I’m away down to the harbour—there’s some of the boats coming in.’
    Rona waved and turned back into the house. Yes, she thought, Aunt Lizzie’s absence was a blessing in disguise, even if it did mean extra work.
    Washing, ironing, cooking—though Father was good and cleaned out the grate before he left for the shop, and made sure there was enough kindling, and the meals, well, they weren’t bad at all. Rona had glowed with pride when Angus had commented, ‘Your mince is just as good as your auntie’s.’
    There had only been a brief postcard from Aunt Lizzie to say Maisie was still in hospital and wouldn’t be home for another week. ‘We’ll need to get