The Orphans of Mersea House by Marty Wingate

Author:Marty Wingate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

* * *

Sunday afternoon the rain let up, but the clouds closed in and it was so dark indoors, they had to switch on lamps. Olive came in from cleaning the kitchen after the midday dinner to find Hugh working the Times crossword puzzle and Juniper at the window, drawing. Margery, wearing capris for her day off, dozed on the sofa. Olive spotted Juniper’s abandoned knitting project in a basket near the fireplace.

“Margery.” Olive shook the foot that hung off the cushion. “Margery?”

“Mmm. Is it tea?”

“No, not yet. Look, why don’t you and Juniper have another go at the knitting?” She looked over at the girl. “What do you think?”

Juniper looked from Olive to Margery and back. “All right,” she said.

“But I’m no good at it,” Margery said.

“Go on,” Olive said. “At least try.”

Olive waited until Margery and Juniper had settled at the front window with their heads together over the magazine instructions, and then she strolled out and headed up the stairs.

“Abigail?” Olive tapped lightly at the door. “It’s Olive.” As if it would be anyone else.

“Yes?”

“Isn’t it dark this afternoon?” Olive said in a conversational tone through the closed door. “I’ve put the kettle on—won’t you come down for tea? It’s just that bit brighter in the lounge, what with the big window. Knocks a bit of gloom off the afternoon.”

Abigail emerged from her room. There’s the first battle won, Olive thought. They went downstairs to the lounge, where the woman stopped inside the door.

“Margery,” Olive said. “Come help me with the tea, please.”

Margery frowned. “You’ve just told me to get this knitting pattern sorted.”

“Well, it doesn’t look as if you’re doing much good, so you may as well leave Juniper to forge on by herself.”

Juniper looked up from the needles, appearing lost at this announcement, but Olive held firm. “C’mon,” she said, nodding Margery out the door. As they left, Olive saw Hugh’s raised eyebrows.

The swing door to the kitchen closed behind them, and Margery said, “What was all that about?”

“Nothing,” Olive said, “it’s only that I thought you’d do more good in here than in there. Why don’t you set the tray up?”

“Shall I take the plates and cups and saucers in?” Margery asked.

“No, don’t,” Olive said, glancing at the door. “Leave them a few minutes.”

“Them?”

Olive sighed with exasperation. “Abigail knits.”

Margery frowned, and then Olive could see the penny drop.

“Oh, this is a setup, is it? Try to get Abigail to talk to Juniper?”

“She wants to be near Juniper, but she’s afraid,” Olive said, summing up her beliefs. “I thought if they shared an activity, it might make it easier.”

“Trying to arrange other people’s lives?”

“If I am,” Olive said, “I wonder where did I learn it?”

Margery laughed.

They took their time with the tea and about twenty minutes later walked into the lounge. Hugh continued to work the crossword. Juniper and Abigail were in the front window, wool in their laps and needles in the girl’s hands.

“Did I drop a stitch, Mrs. C.?” Juniper asked.

Abigail glanced up

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