Down an English Lane Read Free Page B

gingham that Lily had in stock. The majority of the smaller girls wore gingham dresses, and there were several boys, too, wearing shirts of the same material. Others wore white shirts, many with red or blue bow ties.
    The grown-ups, also, had risen to the occasion. The WVS ladies were not dressed in their usual green today, which they had proudly worn when occupied on their wartime duties. It would have been too hot for such clothing; besides, the war was over and it was time now for a bit of frivolity. Mrs Hollins wore red, not really a good choice for such a florid-faced lady, although it could be said that her dress matched her complexion. Maisie had never seen her so excited. Mrs Spooner wore a mid-blue dress with a white lace collar and a pretty white lace-edged apron; sensible attire for a sensible lady; and Mrs Campion looked like a stick of rock in vertical red, white and blue stripes.
    Miss Amelia Thomson, the spinster lady who lived in the house across the green, opposite to the Rectory, was more soberly clad, as one might have expected. Her ankle-length dress was of navy-blue crêpe de Chine with tiny white spots, but she had actually trimmed it with an artificial red rose pinned discreetly to one side. The woman had mellowed considerably over the long years of thewar, Maisie thought to herself, remembering the forbidding person whom she and Audrey had met on their first day in Middlebeck.
    ‘Maisie, Maisie…’ shouted a little piping voice, near to her elbow. ‘Cake for me…please,’ he added, as he knew he should. It was Johnny Fairchild, bouncing up and down with excitement, but being kept in check, more or less, by his adoptive brother, Timothy, who was sitting next to him. A couple of Tim’s friends seemed to be finding the child highly amusing; and Johnny, knowing he had a captive audience, was acting up for all he was worth. He was normally a very well-behaved little boy. It didn’t help, though, that Maisie’s mischievous brother, Jimmy, was also at the same table.
    ‘Yes, Johnny; which cake would you like?’ asked Maisie.
    ‘That ’un,’ said Johnny, laughing and pointing to an iced bun with a cherry on the top.
    ‘You mean, that one…please,’ said Maisie, frowning a little at him. ‘Say it properly, Johnny.’
    ‘Please can I have that cake, Maisie?’ he asked, more quietly, with a twinkle in his blue eyes, the legacy of both his mother and his father. Her heart leapt with a surge of affection for him. How like his mother he was with his shock of auburn curls and his winning smile; but you could see Luke there, too, in his finely drawn features. He would be a handsome lad when he grew up.
    The rector was still a handsome man. Maisiecould see him now, out of the corner of her eye, standing at the side of the room and smiling indulgently at his son, but not wanting to interfere. He would know it was unlikely that Johnny would get too much out of control. She gave him a quick meaningful grin and turned back to his son.
    ‘That’s better, Johnny. Take the paper case off the bun… That’s right. And you, Jimmy…’ She frowned at her brother. ‘Don’t encourage him to be silly. Now, think on! Be a good boy.’
    ‘What, me? I’m always good!’ replied Jimmy, to guffaws of laughter from the rest of the table.
    ‘Shh…’ she admonished them. ‘Mrs Hollins and Mrs Campion are coming round to see who wants some jelly and trifle. They won’t give it to silly boys and girls.’
    Sure enough, the two women, Muriel Hollins in the lead bearing the trifle dish, and her second-in-command, Jessie Campion, following behind with the dish of jelly, were already doing the rounds. The lads fell quiet. Some of them had been in Mrs Hollins’s Sunday school class and knew her as something of a dragon.
    Audrey appeared at Maisie’s side with a large jug. ‘Now, boys; who’s ready for some more orange squash?’ she asked.
    ‘Me, me, me!’ shouted Johnny, bouncing three times on his chair.