Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Acknowledgements
- About the Authors
- Also by Rosie Goodwin
- Welcome to the world of Rosie Goodwin!
- Letter from Author
- Meat and Potato Pie
- The Precious Stones series
- The Days of the Week Collection
- Mothering Sunday
- Victorian Tales from Memory Lane
- Memory Lane Club
‘Then pull that cart over there in the shelter an’ come on in afore you catch your death o’ cold,’ the kindly woman ordered her. ‘I’ll get you a nice hot cup o’ tea while Nancy goes to find Mrs Boswell.’
Amber did as she was told and minutes later, she gratefully sank down onto a chair at the side of the enormous kitchen table, glad for a brief respite out of the bitter cold. It was so hot in there that her damp clothes instantly started to steam.
The cook carried a mug of tea to the table for her, clucking her tongue sadly before saying, ‘We all heard what happened to your dad an’ your brothers, God bless their souls. I’m so sorry, lass.’
‘Thank you.’ Amber sipped at her tea, not quite knowing what to say but thankfully Nancy appeared and grinned from ear to ear when she saw Amber.
‘Oh, it’s so good to see you,’ she said as she hurried forward to give her a hug. ‘An’ ain’t it strange that you’re still doin’ the laundry for Greenacres one way or another. The new laundry maid what took your place came down wi’ the flu last week an’ from what we’ve heard she’s reet poorly. Won’t you consider comin’ back?’
Amber had no time to answer for Mrs Boswell had swept into the room and she too offered Amber her condolences on the loss of her family.
‘I’ve brought the clean laundry back, Mrs Boswell,’ Amber told her, rising from her seat. ‘I’ll just go an’ bring it in for you to look at.’
‘There’ll be no need for that,’ Mrs Boswell assured her kindly. ‘I know it will be quite acceptable if you and your mother have done it. Just leave it over there and I’ll go and get your payment.’
When Amber went back outside it was snowing harder than ever and as she was manhandling the large pile of laundry from the cart, Barnaby appeared around the side of the building and stared at her in amazement.
‘Amber . . . Miss Ainsley,’ he said eventually. ‘What brings you back here?’
She stared at him with loathing. ‘I only came to bring the clean washin’ me mam has done,’ she told him shortly.
‘I see.’ Rushing forward he lifted the heavy load before she could object and headed for the kitchen with it, but just before he entered, he paused to tell her, ‘You do know your job is still open here if you want it, don’t you? With two babies in the house now, we could do with more than just one laundry maid.’