Read Online Fourpenny Flyer by Beryl Kingston - Free Book Online Page A

and the wheat was golden-brown in the fields, she decided that she would have to take matters in hand herself.
    The next Thursday afternoon, when she was helping Miss Pettie with her sewing, she asked whether
other
members of the Easter family did not visit their house in Bury during the summer.
    â€˜Mrs Easter is uncommon busy this year,’ the old lady said, squinting at her tacking and then happily setting it aside for the greater pleasure of a little gentle gossip. ‘We have seen her but rarely, more’s the pity of it, for she is a fine woman, my dear, and highly thought of in the town. Howsomever if Mr Billy and Miss Honeywood make a match then I am sure we shall see a great deal more of her. He is invited to her twentieth birthday party next month, which I
do
consider most significant.
I
introduced them, youknow my dear, at the Victory Ball, little
dreaming
what might come of it. There was romance in the very air that night, my dear.’
    And she was off into a happy reminiscence that lasted fully fifteen minutes. Harriet endured it quietly and smiled agreement when she thought it appropriate, but it seemed an age before she could rephrase her question and ask it again.
    â€˜And what of Mr John, Miss Pettie? Does he not visit with his brother from time to time.’ Even as she heard the words she knew she was being too direct. She sounded forward and unladylike and she knew she was blushing for shame at her presumption, and ducked her head towards the chemise she was sewing, hoping that Miss Pettie wouldn’t notice. Oh dear, oh dear.
    Miss Pettie ignored the blush, for she was always the soul of discretion where the comfort of her guests was concerned. But although she said nothing she thought much and happily. For had she not introduced this quiet child to young Mr John that very summer? How if she were to further another match in the Easter family? What a triumph that would be!
    â€˜Well now, my dear,’ she said, ‘Mr John is busier than his mother, so they do say. He is a
manager
now, you see, with a deal of responsibility. Mr Orton tells me he has opened six new shops just hereabouts and each and every one quite as grand as the shop in the Buttermarket, with fine curtains in the windows and armchairs in the reading-room and the signs all new painted and everything in order. But no more than we should expect, I do assure you. He was always such a diligent young man, even as a child. A scholar.’
    This was better, for it sounded more like gossip than unseemly interest. ‘You have known him for a long time, I daresay,’ Harriet said, prompting further information in the accepted way.
    â€˜Indeed I have, my dear. A very long time. Why, we’ve been neighbours for – let me see – it must be eight years at the very least. Mr Billy and Mr John were mere stripling boys when they first came to my door. Billy was just fifteen, I recall, the same age as you, my dear, and so handsome.Such a fine figure and
so
tall. He could reach any shelf in the house without even stretching his arms. Imagine that! “Pray allow me, Miss Pettie,” he would say to me. So politely. And now he’s courting Miss Honeywood. Who’d a’ thought it? They went riding again last Sunday. And to think I introduced ’em. Oh there was romance in the air that night …’
    Oh, Harriet thought, concentrating on the next button hole, if only some of it had touched my Mr Easter. And while Miss Pettie rambled happily and garrulously on, she allowed herself the luxury of a little romantic daydream, and went riding with Mr John down the leafy lanes towards his sister’s house in Rattlesden, where she was lifted, oh so tenderly, from her horse and led through bright sunshine into the welcoming house where Mrs Hopkins came tripping forward to kiss her welcome and to say …
    â€˜I am thinking of taking a little trip to Ipswich in a day or two,’ Miss Pettie said.