Free (3/20) Storm in the Village by Miss Read

good-naturedly, 'let 'em come for a bit.'
    With squeals of delight the three children squeezed through the ragged hedge, and hurled their battered sandals aside. Mrs Coggs hurried from her back door to see what caused this commotion and stood, nonplussed, at the sight that met her eyes. Mrs Waites hurried from her own cottage to reassure her. They stood, one each side of the hedge, and watched the four children jumping ecstatically up and down in the zinc bath.
    'They likes a drop of water,' said Mrs Coggs indulgently. 'Pity there ain't no ponds much round here. The Caxley kids has the swimming bath, of course. They's lucky!' Her tone was envious.
    'From what I hear,' said Mrs Waites, with some importance, 'Fanacre might get a swimming bath before long if that new estate comes along.'
    Mrs Coggs looked suitably impressed.
    'My! I hope it does then,' she said emphatically. 'That's what us wants for our kids, ain't it?'
    Mrs Coggs tacit assumption that she and Mrs Waites were united, jarred upon Mrs Waites considerably. She at once disassociated herself from such low company.
    'Not that there won't be plenty against a new estate,' she said, as one explaining matters to a backward child. 'The high-ups is in a fine old fever already. And quite right too!' she added righteously. 'That's a real pretty view over there to Beech Green!' In a few sentences she had ranged herself on the side of those who Lead Affairs in Fairacre, and poor Mrs Coggs looked bewildered, and, once again, an outcast.
    'But 'tis only a field!' she protested.
    'It won't be if they builds houses all over it,' pointed out Mrs Waites.
    'Well, I don't know, I'm sure,' said Mrs Coggs miserably, and faltered to a stop. It was obvious that she had put her foot in it somewhere, but just where and how, she could not determine. She made a fumbling attempt to get matters right again.
    'Still, us might get a few more buses and that. 'Twould make it easier for shopping to be able to go to Caxley any day like.'
    Mrs Waites agreed graciously. Somewhat emboldened, Mrs Coggs continued diffidently.
    'Which reminds me! I wanted to slip up the shop for half a pound of broken biscuits. Would the kids be in your way?'
    Mrs Waites, still in her role of great lady, was about to grant permission for Mrs Coggs' temporary absence, in suitably cool terms, when a cry from the zinc bath attracted her attention.
    'Look at Jim!' crowed Joseph Coggs admiringly. Jimmy stood poised on his hands, in the water. His fair hair hung like a mop and his wet shining legs pointed towards the vivid sky.
    'Ain't he clever !' squealed Joseph, beside himself. Touched by this tribute Mrs Waites' warm heart melted entirely. She cast a compassionate glance upon the bedraggled mother beside her.
    Some life she had of it, poor toad, thought Mrs Waites. She spoke gently, jettisoning the refined accent she had used during the conversation, and using her homely country burr.
    'You be off, m'dear! Us'll be all right here. Yours can have a bite of tea with our Jimmy in the garden. You take your time!'

    On an equally hot day, during the following week, Miss Clare and her lodger sat at tea in the cottage garden. A sycamore tree threw a welcome patch of shade across the sunny lawn and here the two sat eating bread and butter spread with lemon curd of Miss Clare's own making. A massive fruit cake, well stuffed with plums, stood on the table before them, and would have delighted the heart of Doctor Martin had he been there to see it.
    A bumble bee fumbled about the flower border nearby, and his droning added to the langour of the summer afternoon. Miss Clare, watching him, spoke slowly.
    'I quite forgot to give you the jumble sale parcel this morning,' she said. 'Do you think the eldest Kelly boy is reliable enough to take it over to Springbourne?'
    Miss Jackson appeared to give the matter some thought, and then replied quite excitedly.
    'Would you like me to take it this evening? It is no distance on a bicycle, and I