Free On Mother Brown's Doorstep by Mary Jane Staples Page B

not makin’ sense,’ said Annie.
    ‘Anyway,’ said Will, ‘you’re managin’ to limp around and get on with things? No help needed?’
    ‘Thanks ever so much, but no, I’m managin’ fine,’ said Annie, and took a little rest then by sitting down in the fireside chair. Her short dress let her knees show. Will looked. Annie pulled on her dress and covered her knees. ‘Excuse me,’ she said haughtily.
    ‘Just havin’ a look at your bruised knee,’ said Will. ‘Well, nice to know it’s improvin’. I’ll get movin’ now. So long, girls.’ Tabby the cat darted in then, made straight for Annie and leapt on to her lap. Annie gave a little yell and her knees showed again. Will grinned. ‘I’m not lookin’,’ he said, ‘I’m off.’
    Nellie went after him to see him out.
    ‘Thanks ever so much for comin’ to see our Annie,’ she said.
    ‘Pleasure,’ said Will. ‘Tell her I’ll send a pair of trousers round.’
    ‘Trousers?’ said Nellie. ‘What for?’
    ‘She’ll know,’ said Will, and went off laughing.
    Nellie, returning to the kitchen, said, ‘Will’s funny, ain’t ’e?’
    ‘What d’you mean?’ asked Annie.
    ‘’E said ’e’d send you a pair of trousers. ’E said you’d know why.’
    ‘He said what?’
    ‘A pair of trousers,’ giggled Nellie, ‘’e said ’e’d send them round.’
    Annie quivered all over.
    ‘Are you laughin’, Nellie?’ she asked.
    ‘Me?’ said Nellie.
    ‘I’m not,’ said Cassie.
    ‘I bet he is,’ said Annie, ‘I bet he went off laughin’. Did he?’
    ‘Well, ’e wasn’t actu’lly cryin’,’ said Nellie. ‘Ain’t ’e nice, though, Annie? It’s a shame ’e didn’t stay a bit.’
    ‘I expect ’e’s gone to Windsor Castle to make some lemonade for the Queen,’ said Cassie. ‘She likes lemonade. Annie, what’s ’e goin’ to send you trousers for?’
    ‘Never you mind,’ said Annie. ‘Just wait till – Nellie, did he say he was comin’ back again?’
    ‘No, not direckly,’ said Nellie, ‘’e only said about the trousers.’
    ‘I bet he’ll be laughin’ all the way home,’ said Annie. ‘I – oh, blow, look at the daffs.’ She was shocked at herself.
    ‘Yes, ’e must like yer,’ said Nellie, scenting romance, ‘you ain’t ever ’ad anyone bring you flowers before. Oh, if ’e don’t come again, though, p’raps it’s because ’e’s finished ’is leave and is goin’ back to the Army.’
    Annie gritted her teeth. What must he think of her? She hadn’t thanked him for them, not properly she hadn’t. She’d been so astonished she’d hardly said anything. Oh, blow and bother.
    ‘Where was it he said he lived?’ she asked.
    ‘Caulfield Place,’ said Nellie, ‘it’s only down in Browning Street.’
    ‘I’ll ’ave to—’ Annie stopped. No, she’d have to go in person, so that she could thank him properly, she couldn’t just send a note. She’d be very nice about it, then she’d feel she could give him an earful about sending trousers round. She knew what he’d meant by that, even if her sisters didn’t. And he’d better not laugh at her again. A young lady her age ought to be treated seriously.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    ‘SAMMY DARLING?’ PURRED Miss Susie Brown, private secretary, personal assistant and exclusive fiancée to the managing director of Adams Enterprises Ltd.
    Sammy, just back from a visit to his East End garments factory, looked up at her from his handsome old desk.
    ‘Yes, what is it, Miss Brown?’ he asked in strict businesslike fashion.
    ‘Pardon?’ said Susie.
    ‘If you could hurry it up, Miss Brown?’
    ‘I’ll give you Miss Brown,’ said Susie threateningly. Sammy had days when he tried to re-establish an authority she’d managed to knock sideways.
    ‘Me principles relatin’ to business hours—’
    ‘Oh, yes, highly formal,’ said Susie.
    ‘Bless you, Miss Brown,’ said Sammy, the youngest of his mother’s three engaging sons. She’d brought them all up to