Free Wandering Girl by Glenyse Ward Page A

laughed out aloud. What a joke! Bill must have seen the funny side too, as we both went into fits of laughter.
    Was it possible that a slave girl in second hand clothes and an old handyman could sit up to a table laid with the best of crockery eating a meal fit for a queen?

    Bill looked at me with his big sad blue eyes and said, ‘You keep laughing, lassie. That’s better for you. Don’t let the boss or anything get you down; I know it’s hard on you because you are away from your home and I suppose you miss all your mates?”
    With a twinge of my heart I told him, “I can only live on those memories now Bill as I don’t know if I’ll ever see home again.” I changed the subject quickly because talking and thinking about home always was a bit touchy for me. I was a very emotional person, I cried quite easily.
    Now that we had eaten our main course, and I was enjoying my cup of tea, I suddenly thought about those buckets of fruit I had to prepare for preserving. As far as I was concerned I was quite content sitting down and relaxing for the day.
    Still, I thought I’d better make a good impression so that when she came home and saw all the jobs she had requested completed, she would have nothing to scowl about. Besides, if I worked now I could take it easy for the rest of the day. Why, I might even ask old Bill if he would like to come and hear me play a few tunes on the piano.
    He sensed that I was deep in thought and said, “What’s up, lassie?” I looked up and said that I didn’t want to rush my cup of tea, then explained to him about the jobs she had lined up for me.
    His wrinkled old hands still clasped around the cup, his melancholy eyes gazed up at me as he said, “Shoosh lassie, while you are getting the fruit ready. I’ll go out to the shed and chop the wood and stack the woodboxes for you.” He said I didn’t need to show him where to find the shed and axe as he was an old hand at the job and that it used to be one of his tasks when she didn’t have a girl working for her.
    I thanked him and said it was very kind of him. Bill said he’d have another cup of tea, so I hopped up gladly and went to make a fresh pot. When I returned I sat down and poured his cup, then asked him if he liked music?
    A big smile spread across his face. He leaned his frame into the back of his chair and said, “I sure do.” He let out a bit of a chuckle and I noticed a sparkle in his watery eyes.
    â€œOh, it’s been a long time since I sat around the old piano. When I was a little boy back home mother used to play in the comfort of our lounge, with an open fire spreading warmth from the hearth to every corner of the room. We used to feel so cosy as we sang to our heart’s delight - but that was a long time ago, lassie!”
    We both had tender memories of childhood but I never asked him where his home was or where he was from. I guessed in time he’d let me know. He sat there with a faraway look in his eyes. I interrupted his thoughts, when I asked him, if he knew songs like, “Do You Ken John Peel” and “Waltzing Matilda?”
    We both sat back and laughed, then stood up from the table. Bill said he’d go and get the wood chopping done, I said I’d go and get the fruit done - then we could sit back for the rest of the afternoon and entertain ourselves at the piano.
    I attended to my jobs, feeling very glad that I had met someone like Bill. I didn’t know how I would cope without him. He was making me see another side of life and by thinking differently I was becoming more bold in my attitude towards the boss.
    If she scolded me or talked to me in a way where I felt like I was dirt, I sort of found courage to answer back in a way that would make her feel stupid, which I’d never dreamed of doing before to anyone as I had a very strict up-bringing. I still remember plenty of floggings I used to get at the mission