Free Paradise Park by Iris Gower

can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for us today.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly, sir, I’m glad I’ve had a bit of experience so I could help Mrs Beynon when she needed it.’ She moved to the door. ‘I’m going to make us a nice cup of tea – we could all do with it, I’m sure.’
    â€˜Good idea.’ Bull closed the door after her departing figure and returned to the bedside. ‘I’m so proud and happy, Katie, that words can’t express what I feel for you and our little boy.’
    It was then that Katie began to cry: huge tears formed on her lashes, ran down her cheeks and into her mouth.
    â€˜What’s the matter, my love? Are you in any pain?’ Bull asked anxiously.
    Katie gulped. ‘No, Bull, I’m just so happy, that’s all.’ She turned her face towards her husband and he wiped away the tears with his thumbs. Katie relaxed against the pillows and sighed with contentment. ‘All I ever wanted out of life is here in this room, Bull, my darling. Come,’ she said, ‘give the mother of your son a kiss.’
    As his lips touched hers, Katie knew that this was the happiest moment of her life.

CHAPTER SIX
    THE PARADISE PARK stood solidly against the sky. It was built of old stone that looked mellow in the sunlight, but closer inspection revealed cracks in the walls, and the peeling paint on the ornate doors gave the hotel a run-down appearance.
    In the kitchen, Sal was sitting near the fire trying to dry her clothes. She had had a bath and had used the last of the water to soak her skirt and her turnover but now she realized that they would not be dry for several hours.
    Shivering, she wrapped the blanket around her and crept to the door. It opened on to a long passageway that led to the back stairs. Up there, in one of the rooms, she would find clothes belonging to the maids. Sal knew she had no alternative but to help herself to a skirt, a turnover and one or two undergarments. The flagged floor under her feet was cold and she wished she had shoes. But she must count her blessings: she was lucky that Mr Bundy was still letting her sleep in the kitchen. The wooden treads on the stairs to the servants’ quarters had lost most of their varnish, testifying to the frequent comings and goings of many feet. At the top, puffing with the effort of running up, Sal opened a door. The room contained only one bed and Sal guessed that it was the housekeeper’s. The wardrobe door creaked ominously as she opened it. She saw at once that the clothes inside it were several sizes too large for her.
    She searched all the rooms on the servants’ floor, but found only one of each garment hanging in the cupboards. She knew she couldn’t steal from girls as poor as herself. She crept back downstairs and paused on a lower landing. Several guest rooms led off a broad passage. These rooms were occupied by men who stayed one night then left before dawn. Cautiously Sal opened a door and peered inside. The room was empty and she saw a chemise, a skirt and a turnover lying on the bed. The turnover was knitted in a cheerful red and fitted nicely on her shoulders.
    She dressed quickly, folded up her blanket and made for the door. As she stepped into the passage she cannoned into a man, a gentleman by the look of him. He had a gold watch hanging from the pocket of his well-made suit and his shirt was of the finest linen. He caught her arm to steady her. ‘Careful, child.’
    â€˜Sorry, sir, I’ll get out of your way, will I?’ Sal recognized him at once: he was Mr Morton-Edwards, a rich man and generous, if what she had heard of him was correct. She heard voices on the stairs and looked round in panic. ‘I’ve got to hide, sir, or I’ll be thrown out.’ But it was too late: a plump, balding man came onto the landing and Sal recognized him as Mr May, the owner of the building. With him was an old lady, clutching