Twisted Strands Read Free

smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear when he saw her and he put his feet on the ground to bring the bicycle to a halt. Jumping off, he laid it on the ground and opened his
arms to her. Laughing delightedly, Bridie ran into them and was lifted off her feet and swung round and round until she was dizzy.
    As he set her down again, Andrew pretended to be out of breath. He put his hand on his chest and panted, ‘You’re getting far too big for such unladylike behaviour.’ But the
twinkle in his hazel eyes and the laughter lines that crinkled mischievously around them belied his words. He picked up his bicycle and, with one arm draped across her shoulders, they walked
towards the farmyard.
    ‘Aren’t you going to ask me what I’ve brought you?’
    Bridie smiled up at him as, her mouth twitching, she said with pretended primness, ‘She that expecteth nothing shall surely receive.’
    Andrew laughed loudly, startling the hens scratching in the yard, so that they squawked and ran mindlessly about in fright. ‘You sound just like old Harry. Him and his
preaching.’
    ‘And Gran says you spoil me,’ she smiled coyly up at him, knowing that he would never stop doing so.
    ‘Well, if I can’t spoil my favourite god-daughter, who can I, I’d like to know?’
    Now she laughed aloud too, the sound bouncing on the breeze. ‘You! I’m your only god-daughter.’
    ‘There you are then. You’re bound to be me favourite, aren’t you?’
    Bridie stopped suddenly and put her hand on his arm. ‘Andrew, I want to ask you something. I was going to leave it till later, but . . .’
    ‘Well, if you’re going to ask me to marry you, the answer’s “yes”.’
    ‘Good,’ she said promptly, ‘because when I’m older that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’
    ‘Eh?’ For a moment, Andrew looked startled but, as Bridie rushed on, the look of surprise was replaced by one of genuine alarm as he heard her out.
    ‘I want to come back to Flawford with you. I could be your housekeeper. I know you live alone and . . . and . . .’
    ‘Hey, hey, steady on, love.’ Andrew actually pulled away from her and held up his hand, palm outwards, as if to fend off her mad scheme. ‘What’s brought all this
on?’ He leant closer and said, trying to be stern though he always found it difficult where Bridie was concerned, ‘Have you been falling out with your gran again?’
    Bridie pouted. ‘Not really, but I told her I’d run away and all she could say was that I was like me dad.’ Passionately she cried, ‘She doesn’t care what I do or
where I go. I said I’d go to Auntie Evie’s, but she said she wouldn’t want me either. But you do, don’t you?’
    He glanced away, unable to meet her eyes now and Bridie felt a chill run through her veins. She frowned and bit down on her lower lip to stop it trembling as she muttered, ‘You don’t
either, do you?’
    ‘It wouldn’t be right, you living with me. A young girl with an old bachelor like me. Your gran wouldn’t approve.’
    Bridie began to protest. ‘You’re not old. You’re . . .’ Then she paused and frowned. Suddenly she realized that she had never really stopped to think what age Andrew must
be. He had always been just ‘Andrew’, whom she had idolized all her life.
    ‘And then there’s your grandfather,’ Andrew was saying. ‘Old Harry.’
    Bridie pulled away from him. Pouting, she said, ‘You’re like all the rest. You don’t care about me.’
    Andrew grasped her arm so tightly that Bridie winced. ‘Don’t say that, Bridie. You know I care about you more than anyone else in the world. Don’t ever say that about
me.’
    ‘Then why can’t I come and live with you? And then, when I’m older, we can be married.’
    She felt his grasp loosen and, as his hand fell away, he groaned deeply. ‘Bridie, that’s always been just a joke – a bit of fun – between us. I’m far too old for
you. I’m almost twenty years older than you. You should marry