Read Online Bitter Inheritance by Ann Cliff - Free Book Online

red with scrubbing to get clean for church and Mrs Scott looked at them too. ‘My dear, let me give you some elderflower cream for those hands.’ She bustled out and Sally relaxed a little, pleased to be sitting down. She tired more easily these days. Was it the poor diet, she wondered.
    When Mrs Scott came back the stream of good advice was resumed. ‘I really think that something should be done. Shall I speak to Joe for you?’
    ‘I know you’re trying to help me, Mrs Scott, and I’m grateful. But I can’t afford to employ anyone. At least not at the moment.’
    Susan Scott looked guilty, as though she hadn’t thought about money. There was a short silence and then she smiled. ‘Of course, that will be a problem. I wonder what you could do.’ She lookedinto the fire, thinking. ‘The only women I know who make a success of any kind of business – well, they do the planning, the managing. They have people to do the heavy work. I believe that’s the only way for you, Sally. You’ll have to think like a manager!’
    Sally smiled at the thought of Aunt Bertha. ‘My aunt says that women’s brains are not capable.’
    ‘What nonsense! Many a man relies on his wife to do the thinking. Who d’you think runs the Crown? Sol, or Mrs Bartram? Women are practical as a rule, if they’ve been brought up like you have. And they can think of more than one thing at a time. Men can’t do that!’ They both laughed.
    Sally could see the sense of this approach. It would mean that she could be a farmer and still be reasonably feminine. It was impossible to carry on as she was for very much longer. If only she could find some money! She decided to be honest with Mrs Scott. ‘I – I’m going to sell the sheep,’ she said firmly, trying to make it sound like a business decision. She looked round. ‘Should we be talking like this on a Sunday? And I am quite sure that I want to keep the farm. What I need is some way of earning money to pay Joe or someone like him.’ Sally pushed her shoulders back and sat up very straight. ‘But I can’t think of how to get started.’
    A maid came in to clear the dishes and Susan Scott suggested a walk round the garden, which Sally always envied because it was so well-kept. They went out into the fragrant evening. It seemed after a few minutes that Mrs Scott had been struck with an idea. She stood in the middle of the shrubbery walk and laughed. ‘That’s it! Now, Sally, this is what you must do.’ They sat on a garden seat together in the soft evening light. ‘There are a few women in your sort of position – widows mostly, of course. Not many young girls lose both parents so early in life; you’ve been unfortunate. But the point is, some of these women take paying guests. It’s not so hard as farm work, although it can be hard enough. But it can pay quite well. Think about it.’ Mrs Scott sat back, pleased with her idea.
    ‘Paying guests! You mean … lodgers? Keep a boarding house?’ Sally was horrified. It sounded so much like drudgery. And anyway, who would want to board at Thorpe? It was too far from the town for travelling salesmen or any kind of travellers. Thatmuch was certain. ‘They might be drunks, or … dangerous people! How could you know?’
    ‘Not at all! Paying guests are genteel. They are often wealthy city people who come to the country for their health, or on a walking tour, or, sometimes a family needs to have someone cared for. You remember Mrs Thackeray on the moor? She looked after a blind man for years, gave him a good home. His family paid her very well for it.’
    ‘Well … it would depend on whether they could look after themselves, I suppose. I’ve too much to do as it is!’ Sally frowned. ‘I could spring clean the rooms and offer very plain food. It would all depend on whether the person, or people, would like to live in the country, on a farm. Some folks wouldn’t care for it, at all.’ She thought of Aunt Bertha.
    Susan Scott jumped up.