Read Online The Hardie Inheritance by Anne Melville - Free Book Online Page A

surprising satisfaction in knowing that she would not after all grow old and die without ever understanding what it was that inspired poems and novels, betrayals and murders. What was to her an extraordinaryexperience had made her for a moment ordinary: that must be good. And the gasping happiness with which she had surrendered both body and spirit was a memory to be cherished.
    But not necessarily an experience to be repeated. She had decided many years ago to keep control of her own life instead of surrendering it to a husband; and the way in which that control expressed itself was in her domination of inanimate materials: wood, clay, stone. Was she prepared to put at risk her contentment with the routines of her daily life by allowing herself to hope for an occasional invitation to delight?
    The peacock – no, the cock – shrieked again impatiently. Although she must decide before too long what she should say and do at her next meeting with Andy, for the moment there were more urgent tasks to be performed. But she felt stiff and heavy, reluctant to leave her bed.
    â€˜Come on, now,’ she exhorted herself. ‘Work to be done.’ To start with, the hens and pigs must be fed. And then a bedroom must be prepared for Mr Faraday, and its dressing room for his daughter. She had already opened the necessary windows to begin the airing of the room, but the events of yesterday afternoon had allowed no time to sweep the floors or make up the beds.
    What should she wear? Yesterday she must have looked like a labourer when the first of her unexpected visitors arrived. Mr Faraday had not seemed disapproving, nor even surprised; but since he was returning by invitation it seemed only polite to disguise herself as a conventional hostess. Even so, he and Trish were unlikely to arrive before nine o’clock. She would have time to change out of her working overalls after breakfast, when the dirty jobs had been done.
    So there was nothing unusual about her clothing as she passed through the kitchen to pick up the bucket which was waiting outside for the pigs. Nor was there any way, surely, in which her appearance revealed that she was no longer the same person that she had been twenty-four hours earlier. And yet she was conscious of her mother glancing at her with whatseemed like curiosity, although it could only be concern.
    â€˜Didn’t you sleep well, Grace? Your eyes look tired.’
    â€˜All that coming and going yesterday. I’m not used to it. What vegetables would you like me to pick for lunch?’
    â€˜I suppose a child expects her main meal in the middle of the day? I can hardly remember – it’s so long.’
    â€˜Don’t pretend that you ever cooked for any of us when we were children,’ laughed Grace. But she shared both the excitement and the slight nervousness which Mrs Hardie was exhibiting. Since the days when preparing for a visitor required no more exertion than the giving of instructions to the servants, no one outside the family had ever been invited to spend a night. Grace was amazed at herself for having issued the invitation, and realized that she must take responsibility for her guests while they were at Greystones. She was glad to be distracted from thoughts of Andy, and set to work with all her usual vigour.
    By the time the two Faradays arrived she had changed into a cotton dress. The day promised to be too hot to make the wearing of stockings tolerable, but she had put on a pair of shop-bought sandals instead of the home-made moccasins in which Ellis had caught her the previous day.
    â€˜What a lot of equipment you need!’ she exclaimed, going out to greet them while Ellis was still unloading it all. In addition to the cameras – larger and heavier than she had expected – there were tripods and reflectors and umbrellas and heavy wooden boxes.
    â€˜The old-fashioned stuff is the best,’ Ellis told her. ‘And I can rely on a house not to