A Small Country Read Online Free PDF Page B

towards Nano.
    ‘She’ll get up this afternoon,’ the old woman said. ‘Indeed I hope so.’ She looked from one to the other, smiled at them both and left them. She could talk English wonderfully well, but it usually took her some little time to get used to an Englishman’s English.
    ‘Shall I pour you a cup of tea?’ Edward asked.
    ‘How nice that sounds. I don’t think any other man has ever offered to pour me a cup of tea. It’s always, “Let’s have a cup of tea then, good girl”.’
    ‘Ah well, let’s say it’s my special privilege.’
    He poured her a cup of tea and passed it to her. ‘Shall I make you some toast? Boil you an egg? Clean your boots?’
    Catrin smiled. She took a piece of crusty bread from the crock on the table and sprinkled sugar on it.
    ‘How old are you?’ Edward asked her. She had so many child-like ways.
    ‘A year older than I was last summer.’
    ‘Good. I’m glad that things are progressing in that orderly manner. Some young girls are suddenly three or four years older between breakfast and dinner in these uncertain times.’
    ‘I’m eighteen since January. It’s true I feel much older, three or four years older than I did last summer.’
    ‘You mean, because of your father?’
    ‘Yes. Because of my father. I hate my father, Edward. I hate him.’
    ‘But he’s left home, so you should feel young and gay, Miss Catherine.’
    ‘Do you really think so?’
    ‘Of course not. I was being flippant just as you were being melodramatic.’
    ‘I wasn’t being melodramatic. I hate him. I’ve never idolized him the way Tom does; now I hate him. It’s as simple as that. Why don’t you believe me?’
    ‘Finish your cup of tea and I’ll come with you to collect the eggs.’
    ‘Won’t Tom be expecting you?’
    ‘Probably. Do you hate Tom too?’
    ‘No, I don’t hate Tom. I’d like you better as a brother, though.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because you consider me an equal. For instance, you’d think it was right and proper for me to go away to Art School.’
    ‘Certainly I would. Doesn’t Tom?’
    They walked out, through the kitchen into the haze of early morning. Catrin put on her clogs and picked up the big oval basket from the bench outside the back door.
    ‘It’s going to be hot,’ she said, squinting up at the sky. ‘Oh no, Tom thinks I should stay at home.’
    ‘What about your mother?’
    ‘She doesn’t say much; for or against.’
    ‘I’ll speak to Tom.’
    ‘He won’t listen. Girls stay home. That’s how it’s always been.’
    As they walked across the farmyard to the hen-houses the cows were being turned out of the milking-shed and in single file were delicately picking their way towards the white gate which led to the water meadows. Edward stopped to watch them.
    ‘Come on,’ Catrin said. ‘Any minute now, you’ll be telling me how idyllic it all is.’
    ‘I like cows,’ Edward said, ‘and I’m not going to pretend I don’t because you’re in a bad mood. I like the way they walk; their dignity, the lovely way they swing from side to side.’
    ‘You can’t swing from side to side and be dignified.’
    ‘Cows can.’
    ‘Do you like hens?’ Catrin asked as they reached the hen-houses.
    ‘Not as much as cows. Buttercup and Violet and Meadowsweet – is there really a flower called Meadowsweet? It’s too good to be true – Fern and Primrose. I like cows, I really do.’
    Edward held the basket while Catrin felt for the warm eggs, counting as she put them in.
    ‘How idyllic it all is,’ Edward said.
    ‘I want to come to London. Do you think Rose would invite me to stay with her?’ Catrin had turned and was looking at him so earnestly that he was forced to drop the bantering tone he usually adopted with her.
    ‘I’m sure she would. She liked you very much. But I don’t think Tom would want you to stay with Rose at the moment.’ He spoke gravely and gently.
    ‘He wouldn’t stop me going on holiday. I don’t mean now. I mean in