Read Online The Beekeeper's Daughter by Santa Montefiore - Free Book Online
Authors: Santa Montefiore
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to the Hall.
‘Ah, Gracey,’ he said, looking up from the border. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Freddie got stung by a bee.’
Arthur chuckled, pulling out a handful of bindweed. His greying hair curled beneath his cap like old man’s beard. ‘Bet he made a fuss.’
‘Of course he did.’
‘Did you put garlic on it?’
‘Yes, although Auntie May thought I was mad to suggest it.’
‘What’s she up to, then?’
‘Cooking dinner. They have company.’
‘Oh, they do, do they? Well, what shall we have for dinner then, you and I?’ he asked, always eager for the next meal.
‘I don’t know. What do you feel like?’
He stood up and walked across the grass towards her. ‘Let’s go and see what’s in the icebox,’ he said jovially. ‘I’m sure we can cook up a feast as good as any at May’s!’
Chapter 5
That afternoon, after a simple meal of cold lamb and mashed potatoes, Grace cycled to Freddie’s house, where they both continued on foot to the river to bathe. It was hot. Dragonflies hovered over the water with mayflies and pond skaters. Swallows dived gracefully to drink and, below, fish swam in and out of the shadows. They changed into their bathing suits beneath their towels and left the sandwiches May had made them against a tree with their clothes. The water was cold and they squealed in delight as they slowly waded in.
‘This is lovely!’ Grace sighed, relishing the feeling of the slimy riverbed beneath her feet.
Freddie plunged under the water then shot up like a torpedo. ‘Cold!’ he exclaimed, throwing himself in again up to his neck. He swam further out to where the limpid water gleamed in the sunlight.
‘How’s your arm?’ she asked.
‘Better.’ He didn’t seem to want to dwell on that embarrassing episode. Instead, he showed off his front crawl, cutting smoothly through the water. Freddie might have been afraid of a bee sting, but he was brave and adept at swimming. Grace preferred to loll about near the edge and watch him. She’d find a frog or toad to inspect, or forage about for snails.
‘Why don’t you dive off the bridge?’ she shouted across the water.
‘All right,’ he replied. Delighted to be given the opportunity to impress her, he swam over to the bank and climbed out. He was strongly built and athletic, on the brink of manhood. She watched him run around to the bridge. It was a pretty stone bridge, built of the same pale-yellow Dorset stone as the houses in the town. Freddie climbed up onto the edge and stood tall. His father had told him on many occasions not to dive, in case his head hit the bottom. But Freddie was a good diver and knew how to keep it shallow. He put his hands in the air, checked that Grace was watching, then bent his legs and sprang off. His dive was straight, his body stiff, his head between his arms. Grace caught her breath as he sliced through the water, just below the surface. A moment later his head appeared like a duck and she clapped wildly.
‘No one dives better than you, Freddie!’ she cried.
He swam over to join her. ‘No one applauds louder than you, Grace!’ He waded out and went to sit on the bank in the sun to dry. She followed and laid her towel on the grass beside him.
‘You’re brave in the water,’ she said, sitting down.
Her comment pleased him and he grinned at her broadly. The sun had made his freckles come up and he was a little red across the bridge of his nose. ‘So, not a big girl then, after all!’ he joked.
She nudged him playfully. ‘Of course not. I was only teasing. You did make a fuss about the sting, though.’
He laughed and held her eyes for an extended moment. A sudden shyness crept over them and they both felt strangely awkward. He turned to look out over the river.
‘Hungry?’ she asked.
‘Not really. I’ve just had my dinner.’
‘Me too.’ She lay on her back and closed her eyes. ‘Ah, this is nice.’
He lay back as well. The heat spread over his body and dried the
‘Ah, Gracey,’ he said, looking up from the border. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Freddie got stung by a bee.’
Arthur chuckled, pulling out a handful of bindweed. His greying hair curled beneath his cap like old man’s beard. ‘Bet he made a fuss.’
‘Of course he did.’
‘Did you put garlic on it?’
‘Yes, although Auntie May thought I was mad to suggest it.’
‘What’s she up to, then?’
‘Cooking dinner. They have company.’
‘Oh, they do, do they? Well, what shall we have for dinner then, you and I?’ he asked, always eager for the next meal.
‘I don’t know. What do you feel like?’
He stood up and walked across the grass towards her. ‘Let’s go and see what’s in the icebox,’ he said jovially. ‘I’m sure we can cook up a feast as good as any at May’s!’
Chapter 5
That afternoon, after a simple meal of cold lamb and mashed potatoes, Grace cycled to Freddie’s house, where they both continued on foot to the river to bathe. It was hot. Dragonflies hovered over the water with mayflies and pond skaters. Swallows dived gracefully to drink and, below, fish swam in and out of the shadows. They changed into their bathing suits beneath their towels and left the sandwiches May had made them against a tree with their clothes. The water was cold and they squealed in delight as they slowly waded in.
‘This is lovely!’ Grace sighed, relishing the feeling of the slimy riverbed beneath her feet.
Freddie plunged under the water then shot up like a torpedo. ‘Cold!’ he exclaimed, throwing himself in again up to his neck. He swam further out to where the limpid water gleamed in the sunlight.
‘How’s your arm?’ she asked.
‘Better.’ He didn’t seem to want to dwell on that embarrassing episode. Instead, he showed off his front crawl, cutting smoothly through the water. Freddie might have been afraid of a bee sting, but he was brave and adept at swimming. Grace preferred to loll about near the edge and watch him. She’d find a frog or toad to inspect, or forage about for snails.
‘Why don’t you dive off the bridge?’ she shouted across the water.
‘All right,’ he replied. Delighted to be given the opportunity to impress her, he swam over to the bank and climbed out. He was strongly built and athletic, on the brink of manhood. She watched him run around to the bridge. It was a pretty stone bridge, built of the same pale-yellow Dorset stone as the houses in the town. Freddie climbed up onto the edge and stood tall. His father had told him on many occasions not to dive, in case his head hit the bottom. But Freddie was a good diver and knew how to keep it shallow. He put his hands in the air, checked that Grace was watching, then bent his legs and sprang off. His dive was straight, his body stiff, his head between his arms. Grace caught her breath as he sliced through the water, just below the surface. A moment later his head appeared like a duck and she clapped wildly.
‘No one dives better than you, Freddie!’ she cried.
He swam over to join her. ‘No one applauds louder than you, Grace!’ He waded out and went to sit on the bank in the sun to dry. She followed and laid her towel on the grass beside him.
‘You’re brave in the water,’ she said, sitting down.
Her comment pleased him and he grinned at her broadly. The sun had made his freckles come up and he was a little red across the bridge of his nose. ‘So, not a big girl then, after all!’ he joked.
She nudged him playfully. ‘Of course not. I was only teasing. You did make a fuss about the sting, though.’
He laughed and held her eyes for an extended moment. A sudden shyness crept over them and they both felt strangely awkward. He turned to look out over the river.
‘Hungry?’ she asked.
‘Not really. I’ve just had my dinner.’
‘Me too.’ She lay on her back and closed her eyes. ‘Ah, this is nice.’
He lay back as well. The heat spread over his body and dried the
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