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Authors: Essie Summers
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trip. Take all the linen you’ll want, crockery, pans, blankets, etc. Look round the house and decide what you want. You could put in some floor rugs—there’ll be very little in the house. You can ask me anything else you think of, when Simon brings you up here tonight. He’s going to try to get over to Haast as soon as possible, mainly because it’s so near the beginning of the school year. It’ll be good for the youngsters to start right at the beginning. It’s an ordeal for them.”
“Poor mites!”
Simon said as they got into the taxi, “Nan is miles better just by seeing you. I knew she would feel that way.”
“I’ve told her I’ll write her screeds about their daily doings, and in that way she can use the information in Morris’s letters so that he doesn’t suspect anything has happened. She wants him to have a quiet mind while finishing these studies. Now, don’t worry if the children are reserved with me at first, or play up. We’ll settle down.”
The blue eyes met hers, smiled down into them. “They won’t stay that way for long with you, I guarantee.”
Faint warmth stirred in Kirsty’s heart. Even if from now on your entire world would be composed of strangers, it was good to be needed, appreciated.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT was lunch-time when the taxi deposited them in front of the Bryn-Morgans’ home on Maori Hill. Kirsty said nervously, “Oh dear, I feel we ought to have lunched in town. She’ll feel she must ask us to share their meal.”
Simon chuckled. “Wait till you meet Mrs. Bryn-Morgan! You’d have no chance of getting away from her. She’d be what she calls ‘black-affrontit’ if we’d done that. She loves having a family about her. She’s so fond of children she adopted three. Oh, there’s Anthony’s car—the son. I suppose he comes here for lunch, from the shop. He’s a draper, but lives down the Peninsula, where he runs a model farm at Tangaroa, with a manager. I wonder if Dinah will be here. You’ll like her. They got married just before I went overseas.”
There was the sound of quick footsteps. From the elegance of the house Kirsty had experienced formality, but Mrs. Bryn-Morga n , bright-eyed, tiny, was wearing an apron and furry slippers.
“Simon, my dear, dear boy!” She held up her face, received his kiss, sparkled at Kirsty, said in delighted tones, “Well, how nice, you’ve brought her to see me!”
It was only too evident what she thought.
Simon and Kirsty tried to speak at once, stopped, then Simon took over.
“Bless your romantic heart, Mrs. Bryn-Morgan, I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you. I’m still a bachelor. This is Mrs. Brown from Australia, and she’s going to keep house for me at the camp and look after the children till Nan’s on her feet. We’ve just come from the hospital. Nan’s thrilled. She was terrified you’d say you’d postpone your trip to Raratonga.”
Mrs. Bryn-Morgan said, “Well, my husband knew I was worried about the children and offered to go later, but he hasn’t been well, and the doctor advised the trip round the islands to set him up for the winter. But come away in. I can just imagine the children’s faces. Anthony will be delighted too. Just a moment—let’s have fun about it.”
She whisked ahead of them, opened the door into the dining-room, said, “Children, big surprise in the hall! Guess who?”
“Fawer Trissmus,” said a baby voice, apparently recalling recent memories.
“Not ... Daddy?” asked a serious, longing, little girl’s voice.
“No, pet, but the next best thing.”
There was a crash as two chairs went over and a rush for the door. They hurtled into Simon’s arms, hugged him. He chuckled, caught up the two of them, a straight-haired, dark little girl with surprisingly blue eyes and a chestnut-haired, angelic-faced boy in spectacles; Rebecca and Geordie.
Mark couldn’t remember his uncle, so went on stolidly eating his boiled egg. A girl in a loose artist’s
“Poor mites!”
Simon said as they got into the taxi, “Nan is miles better just by seeing you. I knew she would feel that way.”
“I’ve told her I’ll write her screeds about their daily doings, and in that way she can use the information in Morris’s letters so that he doesn’t suspect anything has happened. She wants him to have a quiet mind while finishing these studies. Now, don’t worry if the children are reserved with me at first, or play up. We’ll settle down.”
The blue eyes met hers, smiled down into them. “They won’t stay that way for long with you, I guarantee.”
Faint warmth stirred in Kirsty’s heart. Even if from now on your entire world would be composed of strangers, it was good to be needed, appreciated.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT was lunch-time when the taxi deposited them in front of the Bryn-Morgans’ home on Maori Hill. Kirsty said nervously, “Oh dear, I feel we ought to have lunched in town. She’ll feel she must ask us to share their meal.”
Simon chuckled. “Wait till you meet Mrs. Bryn-Morgan! You’d have no chance of getting away from her. She’d be what she calls ‘black-affrontit’ if we’d done that. She loves having a family about her. She’s so fond of children she adopted three. Oh, there’s Anthony’s car—the son. I suppose he comes here for lunch, from the shop. He’s a draper, but lives down the Peninsula, where he runs a model farm at Tangaroa, with a manager. I wonder if Dinah will be here. You’ll like her. They got married just before I went overseas.”
There was the sound of quick footsteps. From the elegance of the house Kirsty had experienced formality, but Mrs. Bryn-Morga n , bright-eyed, tiny, was wearing an apron and furry slippers.
“Simon, my dear, dear boy!” She held up her face, received his kiss, sparkled at Kirsty, said in delighted tones, “Well, how nice, you’ve brought her to see me!”
It was only too evident what she thought.
Simon and Kirsty tried to speak at once, stopped, then Simon took over.
“Bless your romantic heart, Mrs. Bryn-Morgan, I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you. I’m still a bachelor. This is Mrs. Brown from Australia, and she’s going to keep house for me at the camp and look after the children till Nan’s on her feet. We’ve just come from the hospital. Nan’s thrilled. She was terrified you’d say you’d postpone your trip to Raratonga.”
Mrs. Bryn-Morgan said, “Well, my husband knew I was worried about the children and offered to go later, but he hasn’t been well, and the doctor advised the trip round the islands to set him up for the winter. But come away in. I can just imagine the children’s faces. Anthony will be delighted too. Just a moment—let’s have fun about it.”
She whisked ahead of them, opened the door into the dining-room, said, “Children, big surprise in the hall! Guess who?”
“Fawer Trissmus,” said a baby voice, apparently recalling recent memories.
“Not ... Daddy?” asked a serious, longing, little girl’s voice.
“No, pet, but the next best thing.”
There was a crash as two chairs went over and a rush for the door. They hurtled into Simon’s arms, hugged him. He chuckled, caught up the two of them, a straight-haired, dark little girl with surprisingly blue eyes and a chestnut-haired, angelic-faced boy in spectacles; Rebecca and Geordie.
Mark couldn’t remember his uncle, so went on stolidly eating his boiled egg. A girl in a loose artist’s
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