After Such Kindness Read Online Free PDF Page B

happened on my birthday all the same. Nettie said I was Tempting Fate with my parasol, which made me think the accident was a little bit my fault, although Mr Jameson said it was no such thing, which I hope is true. (I can’t write more as Nettie is looking at me with a pretend glare and saying I must go straight to bed this minute, so I have to leave off until tomorrow.)
    Signed, Daisy Elizabeth Baxter (aged eleven).
    PS This journal was a present from Mama and Papa but I had a much superior present from Mr Jameson. I will write more anon.
    How it all comes back: my eleventh birthday and the picnic treat I’d been promised for so long. It had taken weeks to plan. Mama had asked me what I wished to include in the luncheon hamper, and I’d thought about it every day for weeks, consulting poor Nettie at tedious length before deciding on poached salmon, potted shrimps, roast chicken, egg-and-cress sandwiches, cucumber sandwiches, sugar buns and cream jellies. My mother had smiled when she read the list and said she wouldn’t promise that there would be absolutely everything I’d asked for, but that she was sure Cook would do her best to oblige. I’d also been allowed to invite three of my friends – but only three, as my two older sisters and baby brother were to be of the party; and with my parents, Nettie and Mr Jameson, we would more than fill the two hired punts. By chance – or so it seemed – my very best friends happened to number exactly three, and I’d been very excited to hand them stiff white invitation cards with all the details inscribed, and a request for an RSVP to Miss Daisy Baxter at St Cyprian’s Vicarage, Westwood Gardens, Oxford. All three had sent back equally grown-up cards saying they would be delighted to accept, and we’d spent every minute between our lessons with Miss Prentiss talking about the outing – what we would be wearing, and what we would do to entertain ourselves. My father had said he had a secret up his sleeve ‘for our delectation’, and I was dying to know what it was. I was looking forward to the whole thing so much I was practically sick with nerves. I was particularly worried about the weather. If it rained, Papa said, we could not go on the river, as getting drenched was ‘dismal stuff’, and an alternative picnic would be held at home instead, maybe in the summerhouse, with games later in the drawing room with the carpet rolled back. I could hardly bear to contemplate so tame an option, and prayed every night that the weather would be fine.
    In fact, the day dawned so bright it seemed as if the air were made of solid sunlight. When I opened my eyes, I could see the slopes of the nursery ceiling almost shimmering in the heat, and the air was already warm. I pushed back the bedclothes and rushed to the window, slipping my head under the muslin and standing on tiptoes to gaze out. Ahead of me was the bright blue sky – not a single cloud – and directly below me, the garden. It seemed a long way down, with the flower borders, and the line of the hedge, and the summerhouse and the croquet lawn all as small and neat as items in a toy village. Matthews was already watering the beds, and the boy was on his knees pulling up weeds and putting them in a barrow next to him on the lawn. ‘Oh, Nettie,’ I cried out excitedly. ‘We’ll be able to go on the river. The weather has stayed fine after all!’
    ‘That’s because you’ve been a good girl all year, Miss Daisy. The Lord has rewarded you,’ said Nettie, coming up behind me and putting her hands on my shoulders. I could feel her warm, comfy chest against my back as she pulled me towards her, swaying a little. ‘Now, make sure you thank Him properly when you say your prayers tonight.’
    ‘Oh, I will!’ I replied. I’d prayed so often for it to be fine, it would have been churlish to forget my thanks now that my request had been granted. I was sure I would have no trouble at all in remembering, but I whispered a