Free A Summer Promise by Katie Flynn Page B

her fingers.
    ‘Go away. Come back when I’m more . . . oh, the devil fly away with you. I can’t talk to you now.’
    ‘Why ever not?’ Verity had said, sounding as flabbergasted as she felt. She had glanced towards the door which led to the inner hallway and, presumably, to the rest of the house. ‘Do you have company? Only I didn’t want to discuss things in front of Madeleine in case you did not want her told. But if you’d rather, I can come back in an hour.’
    The old woman had given an enormous sigh and dropped the hand which had been shielding her mouth, giving the teacher the benefit of a rueful though tight-lipped smile. ‘It’s me teefs; they’re upstairs in a blue mug beside my bed,’ she had told her astonished guest. ‘No one ever visits on market days, so I never even noticed until you explained who you were.’ She had ducked her head and looked up at Verity through sparse eyelashes. ‘I don’t find stairs too easy no more – I suppose you couldn’t fetch them down for me?’
    She and Verity had been facing one another whilst the dog sat between them, staring at whichever was speaking as though he could understand every word. So that was the reason for the shielding hand! Verity had leaned over to pat the furry head so that her face might not show the amusement she felt. ‘Of course I can, if you tell me which is your room. Oh dear, this is scarcely how I planned our discussion! First there were your horrid geese and now . . . well, which is your room? And perhaps you could pull the kettle over the flame whilst I’m gone, because I’m sure we could both talk more easily with a cup of tea to lubricate our throats.’
    The old woman had cackled. ‘Very true. Go up the back stairs and you’ll come to a square landing. All the doors are open and mine is the second on the left. Whilst you’re gone I’ll mash the tea and then you can tell me why you’ve come a-calling. As for not telling Maddy whatever it is you’re after, some hope of her not finding out! It’s clear you’ve not been long in these parts; why, you can’t take a pee without folk five miles off knowing about it. They call it bush telegraph, but I reckon it’s just gossip. Ever played that game they call “Chinese whispers”?’
    Verity, with her foot on the lowest step of the stairs, had laughed. ‘Yes, I’ve played it. I think all villages are the same.’
    When they had settled themselves at the kitchen table Gran had fixed her uninvited guest with a piercing stare. ‘Very well, young woman – now you can tell me why you’ve come.’
    As Verity had feared, she was not impressed by the reply. She could see no point in her granddaughter’s going to St Philippa’s, scholarship or no scholarship. ‘As soon as she’s old enough she’s going to work, probably in a shop or a café in the town,’ she had said decidedly. ‘They’re not going to ask her for qualifications for that!’
    Verity had stuck to her guns. ‘Look, no one expects you to make up your mind in a moment, and it is only right that your granddaughter be given a chance to choose her own path. Suppose we meet again next weekend, only with Madeleine as well, and try to sort out how we should proceed? I see no harm in her trying for the scholarship; in fact I think she should take the opportunity. You see, it comes with all sorts of other benefits – bus fares, school uniform, equipment such as tennis rackets and lacrosse sticks, school dinners and even, in some cases, school outings. If she gets it she would, in term time, be off your hands financially speaking. Would that not go some way to defraying the costs of bringing her up?’
    The old woman had looked doubtful, but clearly the advantages to be gained if Maddy was offered a scholarship had impressed her. But it was immediately obvious to Verity that Mrs Hebditch was not going to give in easily. ‘And how’ll I manage while she’s gadding off a-pleasuring?’ she had demanded