House of Strangers by Forsyth Anne

Author:Forsyth, Anne [Forsyth, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-08-09T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

What with one thing and another, Flora decided, it was a relief to get out into the sunshine. Indoors there was Miss Craig behaving very oddly. And Mr Turnbull, florid faced and flaring up at the least thing. And of course Arabella, practising her singing almost all day.

But, Flora checked herself, they were a friendly lot. No one complained when the laundry was late. No one objected when Flora had forgotten to order the fish for Friday. Gradually, she was becoming more sure of herself. Really, she thought, there was nothing to be afraid of. Except… and she pushed the thought away.

But it was pleasant to be out of doors on such a fine day instead of adding up the grocer’s bill or discussing menus for the following week.

‘I’m walking to the shops.’ Flora put her head round the kitchen door. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

‘You might get some of these fancy iced biscuits if you’re passing the shop. They’re Miss Dunbar’s favourite.’

Flora peeped into the drawing room. Cousin Chris was asleep in her chair, so she closed the door quietly and set off. She took off her hat and swung along the road. People passing smiled at the slim girl walking briskly and lifting her face to the sunlight.

The shop was crowed when she got there. The owner, a chatty, good-natured soul, leant over the counter, dispensing pan drops and gossip in almost equal measure.

Flora looked around idly at the large bins for tea and coffee, the slabs of yellow butter on the counter, the blue bags ready to be filled with flour or sugar. Two other customers leant on the counter, their heads close together.

‘She’s a fine auld body—always one to put her hand in her pocket,’ said one.

‘Oh aye, generous. Mind you, she’s got it to give,’ said the second.

‘The lass that’s come to stay, is she a relation?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said the first, clearly reluctant to admit ignorance.

‘Maybe a niece, or something like that.’

‘She’ll be well set up,’ said the first. ‘Got her foot in the door.’

Flora suddenly realised that they were talking about her. She skulked behind a large tin of biscuits and thought momentarily about slipping out of the door without being seen.

‘Mind you,’ said the first, ‘you wouldn’t get me living in that house. A queer-like place.’

‘Why’s that then?’

‘You didn’t know? There’s a ghost, so they say.’

The shopkeeper gave a booming laugh. ‘Away with you. There’s no such thing as ghosts. Just a fairy story—a piece of nonsense,’ said the shopkeeper.

Suddenly they noticed Flora and there was a silence.

‘Can I help you?’ asked the shopkeeper.

‘I’ve come for those iced biscuits. They’re Miss Dunbar’s favourite.’ Flora tried to keep her voice steady, ignoring the two customers.

‘Oh, aye, I remember.’

The first woman, trying to recall what she had said about Miss Dunbar’s relative, shuffled her feet and said, ‘I’ll be away then.’ The second stood her ground.

‘Will that be all?’ said the shopkeeper pointedly.

‘Aye. I’ll come back.’

The shopkeeper was clearly embarrassed. Flora had been in the shop often enough and found the owner pleasant and helpful.

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