Gillespie and I Read Online Free PDF

fascinating. Do tell me all about it. What was the climate like over there?’
    Mabel smiled at me with what seemed like pity and then explained: ‘Well, it can be hot, of course, but if you stay in the shade it doesn’t matter. And I’d rather have the heat than twelve full months of rain, as happens here in Scotland.’
    â€˜Och, shtoosh-shtoosh,’ said Elspeth, with a smile at me, as she sank down into her chair. ‘Not quite twelve months, dear.’
    â€˜Well, practically twelve months!’ cried Mabel—and when Annie motioned her to lower her voice, she continued, in a mutter: ‘I don’t see why you have to contradict every single thing I say.’
    Elspeth took a breath, but before she could speak—and in order to forestall what looked like a disagreement—I leapt in with the first question that came to mind: ‘Have you all been enjoying the International Exhibition?’
    â€˜Ah—our wonderful Ex!’ cried Elspeth. ‘We are season-ticket holders, of course, and I’m partial to a real Indian curry, and they do a marvellous one at the General Gordon Buffet. You’ll have been round the Palace yourself, then, Herriet?’
    â€˜Yes,’ I said. ‘In fact, that’s one of the reasons I came to Glasgow—to see the Exhibition and take my mind off … well … recent events.’
    â€˜I know, dear,’ said Elspeth, with a sympathetic look. ‘Annie told me you’d lost your aunt. I’m so sorry.’
    â€˜Well, Aunt Miriam was terribly kind—like a mother to me, really. My own mother passed away some years ago.’
    Elspeth nodded. ‘I know exactly what you’re going through.’
    â€˜You do?’
    â€˜Well, I’m a widow, you see, and Our Heavenly Father took my own dear mother to himself many years ago. And Annie’s mother was taken when she was quite young. We’ve all been through the passing of our mothers, you know.’
    â€˜Not all of us,’ said Mabel. ‘Not yet.’
    Elspeth blinked, once, but gave no other sign that she had heard, or been wounded, by this comment. In hindsight, there was a reason for Mabel’s prickly demeanour: I later learned that her fiancé, an American, had recently broken off their engagement, resulting in her unexpected and solitary return to Scotland. Dear Mabel was never one to conceal her moods, and, for the time being, the family was treating her with kid gloves, tolerating her more melodramatic outbursts, and ignoring any bad-tempered remarks.
    To dispel this moment of awkwardness, I spoke up again: ‘Mabel, I’ve heard it said that America is a very vibrant country. Did you find it so?’
    With a shrug of her shoulders, she sat down at the table.
    â€˜Well, naturally—that goes without saying. Everything is so much better over there than it is here. American coffee, for instance, is wonderful. Do you prefer tea or coffee, Miss Baxter?’
    â€˜Usually, I have tea.’
    â€˜Really?’ Once again, she gave me the look of pity. ‘I prefer coffee. But you can’t get decent coffee in Glasgow. It’s tea rooms, everywhere you look. Tea rooms!’ And she hooted with laughter, at the absurdity of it all.
    â€˜Well they do serve coffee,’ muttered Elspeth, and then, turning to me, with a shriek, she banged the table (making Annie wince). ‘Which reminds me, Herriet, I’ve remembered where I’ve seen you before.’
    â€˜I have indeed walked along this street many times, it’s on my route to the—’
    â€˜No, no—it was outside Assafrey’s, last week. I went in, with my son, but the place was full, so we left, and that was when we bumped into you: you were going in , as we came out .’
    â€˜Goodness, I’ve been to so many tea rooms—I’m afraid I don’t recall seeing you, Elspeth. Although, who knows—if your son joins us,