Under the Bridges by Anne Forsyth Page B

quick as I can.’
    Matt closed the door behind him.
    â€˜Would there be another cup in the pot?’ Walter asked, stretching out his hands to the fire. He glanced out of the window.
    â€˜Oh, here’s Miss McAllister now—and your daughter.’
    â€˜School’s closed early. We’ve sent the children home,’ Shona said, as she pulled off her red woollen cap, and shook her dark curls. With her glowing pink cheeks, she looked very attractive, Nancy thought, noticing that Walter was looking at her with interest.
    * * *
    Shona paid no attention to him, but concentrated on unzipping her fleece-lined boots and placing them carefully on the mat to dry out, and putting on the shoes she had left in the hall. She had on a smart outfit, Nancy noticed—a wool cardigan and slim-line skirt in pewter grey, with a blue polo-neck sweater. She remembered Shona had made the skirt herself from a paper pattern.
    â€˜Come in, dear,’ Nancy said kindly. ‘There’s tea in the pot.’
    Shona didn’t sit down but kept glancing out of the window. She seemed a little uneasy, Nancy thought. Was she maybe expecting someone?
    Meanwhile, Lorna had vanished upstairs, with only a brief nod to her mother. Shona shook her head. Surely the girl wasn’t in another of her moods? Well, at least she was spending the half-day at home.
    â€˜Any jobs I can be doing for you?’ Walter rose from his seat by the fire. ‘I know Joe won’t be home for a bit. You’re needing more coal, aren’t you?’ He picked up the coal scuttle. ‘I’ll fill this up.’
    Nancy smiled her thanks and poured out a cup of tea for Shona. She went to the foot of the stairs.
    â€˜Lorna! There’s a cup of tea and scones.’
    There was no reply. Nancy turned back into the kitchen. What could be wrong with her now? She never used to be difficult and surly like this.
    Nancy turned to her lodger.
    â€˜I don’t suppose you saw Roy on the way home?’
    â€˜Last seen, he and some other boys were having a snowball fight,’ Shona said.
    â€˜In that case he’ll be soaked through when he gets back,’ Nancy sighed. ‘Oh, well, you sit and get warm, my dear. It looks like snow again. Dear knows when they’ll be able to work on the bridge.’
    â€˜I wish it was summer,’ said Shona, as she sat and toasted her toes in front of the fire. ‘The holidays seem like years away.’
    â€˜Have you any plans for the summer?’ Nancy asked.
    â€˜Not really . . .’
    There were footsteps on the stairs, and Lorna appeared in the doorway. She was wearing her new cherry-red two-piece and her hair was swept up in a beehive.
    â€˜I’ll not be in for tea,’ she said.
    Nancy whirled round.
    â€˜Lorna, you’re never going out in this?’
    Lorna tried to look nonchalant.
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜It’s deep snow! You don’t even know if the buses will be running. Where on earth are you going?’
    â€˜That my business,’ she said shortly, then looked sheepish. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be OK, Mum.’
    She brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped the lacquer.
    â€˜Lorna, you can’t!’ Nancy’s heart sank. What would Joe say? ‘Your father . . .’ Her voice trailed away.
    â€˜I’ll be back late.’
    Nancy, usually so placid and even-tempered, flared up.
    â€˜What on earth are you thinking of? At least take your thick coat,’ she called after her daughter.
    But the door had slammed behind her.
    Shona and Walter tried to look as if nothing had happened, but Nancy, twisting the dish towel between her hands, was shaken.
    â€˜What will Joe say when he comes home?’
    â€˜Mrs Mackay . . .’ Shona said hesitantly.
    â€˜Yes?’ Nancy turned round. She was upset about that scene with Lorna, upset too, that Walter and Shona had witnessed it.
    She gave herself a little