News from Thrush Green by Miss Read

Author:Miss Read [Read, Miss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780618884407
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 1970-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

The departure of Sam and Bella Curdle had repercussions in the community. John Donne's dictum about no man being an island is truer in a village, perhaps, than in any larger community.

In the first place, Winnie Bailey was expecting him to come to the house to sweep the kitchen chimney. An odd quirk in this structure, necessitated by a by-gone architect's devious design, meant that it needed a sweep's ministrations twice a year. Dr Bailey owned some stout brushes, which were frequently loaned to neighbours, for this purpose, and Sam was always ready to do the job for five shillings.

Albert Piggott was the second person to miss Sam. They had been instructed by the rector to take out some rusty and damaged iron palings from the churchyard fence.

'Children or animals could be injured so easily,' said the rector anxiously. His sexton had snorted, but made no spoken comment. Children and animals, his expression implied, got what they deserved if they meddled.

'It's too bad,' said Mrs Bailey, when she heard that Sam had gone. 'That wretched boiler will start smoking as soon as the wind changes, mark my words. I shall have to get someone up from Lulling, I suppose.'

'No need,' said Richard, sprinkling wheat germ on his plate of Otto-recommended breakfast cereal. 'I'll do it this evening.'

Winnie surveyed her neat nephew with new respect.

'Do you know what to do?'

'Of course. I rather like sweeping chimneys. And cleaning drains. So worthwhile. Instant rewards, you know.'

He poured himself some coffee.

'Think no more of it. I'll be ready for the job after dinner tonight, if that suits you.'

'Wonderful!' cried Winnie. 'I'm most grateful, Richard dear. I'll let the boiler out this afternoon.'

True to his word, Richard tackled the job that evening. He was clad in ex-R.A.F. overalls, once white, but now mottled with the stains of many a year and many a job, from creosoting fences to cleaning out wells.

'They go everywhere with me,' said Richard, stroking his filthy overalls fondly. 'Such a useful rig-out.'

This practical side of Richard's nature was new to his aunt, and she found her respect for the young man growing considerably as she watched him tackling the flue. He was quick and clean. He had had the forethought to spread newspapers at strategic points, and he wasted no time in idle conversation as Sam Curdle did.

While the flue brush was rattling away inside the chimney, Phil Prior called.

'My goodness,' she said, with admiration. 'You're making a splendid job of that.'

'A minor accomplishment,' replied Richard, with a rare smile. 'It's more useful than painting water-colours these days.'

'It certainly is,' agreed the girl. She turned to Mrs Bailey.

'I hate to bother you, but would you come and have a look at Jeremy? He's looking so flushed. He went to sleep as usual, but he's woken up again so crotchety. I don't like to bother Doctor Lovell, but if you think—'

'Let me slip on my coat,' said Mrs Bailey, making for the stairs.

'Ah!' said Richard, with enormous satisfaction. A sizeable piece of hardened soot rattled down the chimney and splintered on the waiting newspaper.

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