Free Paradise Park by Iris Gower Page A

a bag close to her side.
    â€˜What are you doing here, girl?’ Mr May looked down at her. ‘Go and see to your customers at once. It doesn’t do to keep the gentlemen waiting.’ It was clear he had no idea that she’d been sleeping in the kitchen.
    Sal stood still, not knowing which direction to take. Fear made her throat so dry she couldn’t speak.
    â€˜Are you deaf and stupid, girl? Get out of our way before I throw you out.’
    â€˜Hold on,’ Mr Morton-Edwards said abruptly. ‘Don’t talk to her like that. She’s only a child.’ He turned to Sal. ‘How old are you?’
    Sal thought about telling him she was older than she looked but after a moment she thought better of it. ‘I’m twelve, sir, and if it pleases you, sir, my name is Sal.’
    â€˜Where are your parents, child? Do they know you do this sort of thing?’
    â€˜I ’aven’t any mam or dad, sir, I’m on my own.’ Her hopes rose. If he was a customer perhaps he would just give her money and send her away. She didn’t want to lie with him – by her standards he was an old man – but she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t up to the job either. ‘I’m very experienced, sir,’ she said. ‘I don’t think you’ll be disappointed in me.’ She bit her lip, forcing tears to well in her eyes.
    Mr Morton-Edwards thrust his hands into his pockets and she heard the jingle of coins – sovereigns, she hoped. But he didn’t bring out any money. Instead he looked at her closely. ‘Do you like this work, then, child?’
    Oh dear, he was going to try to reform her. She shook her head. ‘Not much, sir, but I got to do something to keep alive, haven’t I?’
    â€˜Have you ever tried to get out of it, Sal? Have you looked for work elsewhere?’
    â€˜Oh, aye, sir, I worked for a nice family for a while but the master . . . well, he wasn’t so nice.’
    â€˜Didn’t you ever have the chance to try to find another decent job?’
    â€˜I did, sir, once. I met a lady, Rhiannon Beynon she called herself. She wanted to save me from this life but that didn’t work out because she had no money or job herself.’
    â€˜Rhiannon Beynon, eh?’ He smiled down at her. ‘Well, she did find a position. She’s working for my daughter.’ He hesitated. ‘My daughter might be able to take you on too.’
    â€˜I’d like that but I’m not like Rhiannon – she had experience in a good home, sir.’ She sighed. ‘This life is all I know.’
    â€˜Well, you wouldn’t be able to work here for very long anyway. I’m considering buying this hotel, and so is Mrs Paisley.’ He gestured towards the old lady. ‘Whoever buys the hotel plans to turn it into a decent, respectable place.’
    That meant her easy life in the kitchen would soon be over, Sal thought. This time real tears welled in her eyes.
    â€˜Why don’t you work for my daughter? I’m sure she’d take you on, and Rhiannon would help you settle in.’ Mr Morton-Edwards turned to the owner of the hotel. ‘Mr May, I’ve had second thoughts about buying the place. It isn’t what I expected. I want an establishment that would serve as a railway hotel and this place needs too much work. Still, perhaps you and Mrs Paisley here can come to an amicable agreement.’ He caught Sal’s arm. ‘Come along, I’m taking you with me now.’
    To Sal’s surprise, Mr Morton-Edwards took her down the front stairs and dropped some money on the table in the hall. ‘Send for my carriage to be brought round, there’s a good chap,’ he said affably to the man at the door. The porter looked at him, eyebrows raised, and Sal nearly laughed. He obviously thought Mr Morton-Edwards was one of the customers, and men about unsavoury business did not usually