Free Larkrigg Fell by Freda Lightfoot Page A

the twins reached Larkrigg Hall the pile of logs still stood in the yard. Someone had attempted to scrub down the smoke blackened kitchen, with very little success since it looked blacker than ever but the small dining room, indeed every room, was quite empty.
    ‘Which is a great pity,’ Sarah remarked. ‘Just when things were really looking up.’
    ‘I’m not sure we want strangers in our house,’ Beth protested. ‘Certainly not squatters. Whoever they were, I’m glad they’ve gone.’ She marched out into the yard and scowled at the logs as if they were in some way to blame. ‘I shall light a fire, boil some water and start the big clean up.’ She heard Sarah’s groan but refused to respond to it.
    While Beth struggled to light the fire, puffing and blowing the tiny flames into life, Sarah rubbed at a dirty mirror on the wall, pulled a lipstick from the pocket of her jeans and began to apply it. ‘Maybe they’ll be back. Can’t say we haven’t seen what they’ve got to offer, can we?’
    Beth’s cheeks flared to the colour of the flames she was blowing. A puff of smoke enveloped her and she turned hastily away, eyes streaming, choking for breath.
    In spite of their girlish giggling, she’d begun to worry about the unknown young men. Who were they? What were they doing at Larkrigg? How had they got in? The idea of uninvited intruders who might return at any moment, troubled her considerably.
    When she’d got the fire going to her satisfaction she piled on the logs and set a pan of water to boil. ‘There, we’ll soon have some hot water. This is fun, isn’t it?’
    ‘Hysterical.’
    ‘Do you think we should get a plumber to look at the old range, or a chimney sweep for the flue?’
    ‘Haven’t the faintest idea, darling.’
    It took most of the morning to make the kitchen anything like decent. And as she scrubbed and bleached, mopped and scoured, Beth’s usually placid disposition was put under extreme stress, for throughout it all Sarah sat on a chair, feet propped up on the corner of the table, reading a magazine.
    ‘Will you lift your feet please? Could you move your chair?’ Sarah sighed heavily each time, watching in disbelief as Beth set about rubbing the stove piping with polish and a cloth, bringing out the warm glowing sheen of copper.
    ‘For goodness sake, you’ll be washing the coal next.’
    Beth’s anger bubbled up, hot and unexpected. ‘And are you going to sit there and watch me do it?’
    ‘You’re the one who wants to play house.’
    ‘You promised to help.’
    ‘Stop being such an old woman, Beth.’
    ‘I will be an old woman by the time I’ve finished if I have to do up this house all by myself.’
    ‘It was your idea.’
    ‘You agreed.’
    Sarah pulled a wry face in mock innocence. ‘Oh dear, we are in a paddy, aren’t we? Get out of bed the wrong side did we?’
    There were times, Beth thought, when she came close to hating her sister. She drew in a slow, steadying breath. ‘I’m simply asking for co-operation. Is that so unreasonable?’
    ‘Has it upset you because some naked but undoubtedly delicious male bodies have lain in your precious house?’ Sarah pushed back her chair and flounced away, ebony hair crackling with a life of its own, her tone cutting. ‘You’re a sexual cripple, d’you know that? No wonder Jeremy abandoned you. You bored him rigid. He told me so.’
    Silence. Thick and painful. ‘Jeremy would never say such a thing.’
    ‘I assure you he did.’
    Beth’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. ‘I don’t believe you.’
    ‘Yes you do. You’re far too prissy for your own good. Relax. Enjoy life, as I do.’ Sarah draped herself decorously on a chair, then catching sight of her sister’s face, drained of all colour, she was filled with contrition and ran to fling her arms about her. ‘Oh, take no notice of me. I’m in a foul mood. I really didn’t mean it.’
    Beth took a shaky breath. ‘I know you didn’t. Why are we