Free After Such Kindness by Gaynor Arnold Page A

take her into the realms of the magical and absurd. And if I have my way, she will do so. She will travel with me along the golden pathways of the imagination.
    And yesterday I took a small step towards this goal. When I made my way to the vicarage as usual in the mid-afternoon, I was carrying under my arm a fine leather album in which I had carefully mounted all the photographs I had taken at the picnic. I had spent three days finding an album that satisfied me; and the assistants in five separate stationery shops in the Cornmarket and the High had given voice to their impatience as I rejected one after another of their showy volumes. (I really cannot see why they were so incapable of supplying what I needed: I described exactly what I required in terms of size and shape: linen-jointed, four photographs per page, fifty pages altogether – but they seemed to have no idea of proportion, or indeed, of taste.) I did eventually find a decent enough one, with deep brown pages eight inches by five, of a nice stiff quality with a double golden line running three eighths of an inch in; and, I have to say, the photographs looked very well on them.
    Mrs Baxter summoned everyone to the drawing room to look, and all were delighted at what they saw. Mrs Baxter ran her elegant fingers over the pages as if they were velvet, and the once-disdainful Christiana and Sarah exclaimed over their likenesses with evident approval. Thus emboldened, I asked the Baxters if it would be possible to make some additional studies. I said I was particularly pleased with how the composition with the younger children had turned out and would like to take my amateur practice a stage further by setting up the photographs in more steady surroundings.
    ‘The bright sunshine of the riverbank is all very well,’ I said. ‘But when I am indoors I can arrange the light for the pictures to suit myself. I have a special place in college where my equipment is kept and I have some fancy costumes that the little girls would no doubt like to dress in. Do you think their mamas would agree to such an arrangement? Chaperoned, of course,’ I added.
    Mrs Baxter said she thought this an excellent idea and would ask the parents of Daisy’s friends if they would agree. ‘I will advocate most strongly for you, Mr Jameson. It is the least I can do in terms of the debt of gratitude we all owe. Once we have their answers I will set a time, and send Hannah along with them. She’ll like an outing, no doubt, and I’ll release her from her duties here. Tell me, how long will you need?’
    I said an hour or two would suffice on the first occasion (I was careful to plant the idea that more occasions would follow), but that I would be happy to give the little girls some tea and bread-and-butter once the picture-taking was over. I said that I would not wish to keep Hannah too long from her duties, and that I would be happy to entertain the children afterwards and walk them back to their respective homes. ‘That is, if you think they will agree to such a rogue and v-vagabond as I being in charge of their precious offspring.’
    Mrs Baxter laughed. ‘I cannot think of a more respectable and reliable person than yourself, Mr Jameson. If one cannot trust a clergyman, whom can one trust? And they are only children, after all.’
    I bowed. ‘Indeed. But the world is full of Mrs Grundys. I would wish everything to be kept utterly respectable – most of all for the little girls concerned. They are the most precious and innocent of beings.’
    ‘I will deal with it, Mr Jameson. Rest assured, there will be no difficulty of any sort.’
    And I am sure there will not be. I can see that Mrs Baxter has her own sort of vanity, which prides itself on its ability to assess character. And she is equally convinced of her capacity to charm away any kind of opposition.
    Daniel then having to go out on parish business, and the older girls to attend an archery lesson, I was treated to a whole hour alone