Read Online Pink Wellies and Flat Caps by Lynda Renham - Free Book Online

now, but we’re getting there. I can’t worry about the house while I run the farm. My mother, oh, she remarried a Sir after my parents divorced ten years ago if you’re wondering where the title comes from. My mother feels a housekeeper is needed, hence, she goes and hires one …’
    ‘I was hired as a farm manager,’ I correct.
    He laughs.
    ‘Well, I assure you there is nothing to manage here except animals, and you need a firmer voice than you have else you’ll have a lot more than Molly up your skirt.’
    I feel myself blush. He has a half smile on his face and I can tell he is enjoying teasing me. He nods at the contract in my hand.
    ‘You realise you’ve signed a contract to work here for six months. You could break it admittedly, but knowing my mother, who can be a bit of a tough cow, she’ll probably sue you.’
    Oh no. He smiles and adds,
    ‘Don’t worry, I’ll phone her. She’s an interfering minx. Frankly though, I could do with a bit of help around the house. I tell you what; I’ve got to rescue those sheep. Why don’t you have a look upstairs? The room at the far end would be yours if you choose to stay. I’ll be a couple of hours. My number is on a pad by the phone. If I don’t hear from you I’ll presume you’ll be here when I get back. I’ll bring back extra fish and chips, unless you prefer a Cornish pasty, or were you planning on cooking?’
    I shoot him a filthy look. Fish and chips. He cannot possibly be serious.
    ‘I would get you a take-out salad but there’s not much call for it in these parts, oh and if you should go out, please don’t ever forget the golden rule; always shut the gate !’
    He smiles and without another word walks out of the farmhouse. Bloody golden rule, this is worse than being back at school.

Chapter Nine
     
    I stare at the door examining every scratch and knock that has been inflicted on it. It’s like I am unable to move. I begin to wonder if I am in shock. I look at the contract and drag my heavy legs to one of the chairs at the table. I fall into it and let the tears come. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known the whole farm manager job was too good to be true. Oh what a fool I am. I hate Charlie, I hate him so much. How could he do this to me? I was a good girlfriend, I was never over demanding like some women. Wasn’t it enough losing him without losing the flat too? I fumble in my bag for a tissue, slamming it angrily back onto the table when I don’t find one. I give the sink a cursory glance in the hope there might be some kitchen towel there, but there is nothing. I’ve never seen anything like it. Doesn’t he have a shed or something? What sort of person piles so much rubbish onto a table? A rude person, that’s what. Edward Fairfax is not only rude, he is also a slob. No wonder Lady Fairfax-Mason was desperate to get him a housekeeper, although on reflection, he doesn’t need a housekeeper, he needs a sodding skip. The sink is full of dirty dishes and on the floor below is a wash basket full to the brim of dirty washing. I push some engine parts to one side of the table and lay out the contract. He is quite right of course. I had stupidly signed to work here for six months. I angrily yank off my holey laddered tights and with a heavy heart make my way upstairs in the hope of finding some toilet roll in the loo.
     
    The stairs creak under my feet and I pass an oil painting that must be older than my grandmother. The stair carpet doesn’t look like it has been vacuumed in months. I mean, who lives like this for Christ’s sake? I hear Lloyd Grossman’s posh voice echo in my head. So, who lives in a house like this? An arrogant untidy slob, that’s who. Honestly, I swear I can see things moving in the stair carpet. One night here and I will no doubt have fleas, not to mention lice. That’s if I haven’t got them all ready. I so need a bath. It is when I reach the room that is to be mine that I make my decision there and