The Postcard Read Free

. six tomorrow, by my reckoning?’
    ‘Seven,’ Caroline snapped back. ‘Sir.’ She remembered her manners just in time. Fancy this old man knowing when her birthday was. Perhaps he’d come to bring a
present, though she had never seen him before. She hung back shyly, seeing him examining her closely.
    ‘Tall for her age, wouldn’t you say? Looks like a tomboy to me,’ he laughed.
    ‘You can say that again. Never out of the wood – or the mud. Her aunty always brings dresses from London, but to get them on her . . . well, you’ll no’ be wanting to hear
all this. It’s good tae see you back for the Season. How are the family?’
    He turned to the housekeeper. ‘Just the same as ever. My wife’s never got over Arthur’s loss and it’s hard on his sister, Verity. So few of her old friends made it back
but I’m glad to see Dalradnor looking like in the old days. Nothing like children’s banter to breathe life into a place. The child looks at home here. You say she’s Phoebe’s
niece . . . Caroline?’ He was staring at her again.
    ‘Callie. I’m Callie, and my knee hurts,’ she replied, pointing to her bloody knee.
    ‘I wonder there’s any skin left on those knees,’ said Mrs Ibell. ‘Away upstairs and Marthe will clean you up out of those dirty things.’ Callie reluctantly did as
she was told and Mrs Ibell turned back to the visitor. ‘It’s good to see you again, Sir Lionel. You’ve been away awful long. If only things had been different for young Arthur and
his bride . . . You’re welcome to stay for supper. I’ve no idea what time Miss Phoebe will arrive from Glasgow.’
    ‘Thank you, but I’ll be on my way; just wanted a wee peep at the place for
auld lang syne.
I see your hand is still at the tiller, Nan.’
    ‘I have tae admit to liking wee ones round the place. She’s a bright lassie and Marthe, the nursemaid, is good with her considering she’s a foreigner. Miss Phoebe is always
busy down in London.’
    ‘I’d thought she’d give that up,’ he said.
    Callie was listening from the top of the stairs, ready to chip in. ‘Aunt Phee’s going into filums and she’s going to take us all to the picture house in Glasgow for my birthday
Have you brought me a birthday present?’
    ‘Caroline!’ spluttered Mrs Ibell, but the old gentleman just laughed.
    ‘If you don’t ask you don’t get,’ he said, looking up at her. ‘I’ll see what I can find, young lady.
    ‘In my day it was if you ask, you
don’t
get,’ said the housekeeper, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Away you go and do as you’re told or there’ll
be no birthday for you at all. I do apologize for that wee madam.’
    Callie shot up to her bedroom to find Marthe sitting in the rocking chair, mending her torn school shirt.
    She’d never known a time when Marthe wasn’t there helping her dress, making sure she had a clean liberty bodice, darned stockings, a handkerchief in her knicker pocket for school,
telling her stories when she couldn’t sleep. Marthe, Nan Ibell and Tam in the garden were her world, Nairn and Niven her best friends, and the only bad thing in her life was that she was a
girl not a boy.
    Marthe bathed Callie’s bleeding knee with such tenderness it no longer hurt, wrapped a bandage around it, washed her all over and put her to bed. ‘Time for your nap. You can stay up
late if you sleep now until Miss Phoebe arrives.’
    Callie was too excited to sleep. When Aunt Phoebe came to stay, there were always presents to open – new picture books and sweeties in pretty boxes – and lots of news to tell. Mrs
Ibell baked fresh scones with raspberry jam and cream, sponge cake and steak pie. The table in the dining room was already laid out with a lace cloth and silver cutlery and pretty china cups and
saucers. Aunt Phoebe was coming for her birthday, as she always did, and Callie was on holiday from school at Miss Cameron’s Academy so there would be lots of lovely days to plan.