The Baker's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

counter along with a plate of biscuits.
    â€˜Not very exciting, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜They’re fine.’
    Rona glanced at the flickering black and white TV screen in the corner. ‘I’ve never seen TV,’ she said. ‘It’s marvellous.’
    â€˜One day,’ he said, ‘and it won’t be all that long, everyone will have a television set in their living room.’
    â€˜Fat chance,’ she said, laughing. ‘You don’t know my father and Aunt Lizzie. We’ve got an old wireless and that’s about as far as they’ll go.’
    â€˜Just like my folks. Not that there’s much time to listen to the wireless—apart from the weather forecast. And sometimes Dad listens to
Farming Today
.’
    â€˜Aunt Lizzie doesn’t even listen to the Scottish country dance programme,’ said Rona gloomily.
    â€˜Your aunt—she’s the one in the shop, isn’t she?’ Callum said, not liking to be inquisitive. ‘Your mother—is she . . ?’
    â€˜She died when I was fifteen. Aunt Lizzie came to look after us.’
    Callum nodded, and remembering the grim figure behind the till, felt a wave of sympathy. What a dull home it must be, compared to his own. He thought of his own mother, placid and cheerful, always busy baking for the Rural or the Guild. She was good to the neighbours too—taking a bowl of soup or a plate of mince to anyone in trouble.
    â€˜And your mother?’ Rona asked.
    â€˜She’s all right,’ said Callum.
    â€˜Have you always worked on the farm?’ Rona stirred her coffee.
    He nodded. ‘Except for National Service. I’m . . .’ he paused. ‘I’m a bit fed up with it, I can tell you. I’d really like to go abroad, travel a bit.’
    â€˜You didn’t travel when you were in the Army?’
    He shook his head. ‘No chance. Oh, it’s not that I don’t like farming, but I fancy trying my luck in Canada. I’ve a cousin who emigrated—he’s got a shop now, near Montreal. Still, that’s in the future. What about you?’
    â€˜I’d like to go to London—or even Edinburgh. I’ve never been to London. But there’s not much chance of that.’
    â€˜So here we both are, stuck in Kirkton—for the moment, at least.’ He grinned.
    â€˜Anyway, listen, do you like country dancing? There’s a ceilidh on at that town hall next Saturday. What about it? With stovies at half time.’
    â€˜Sounds great.’ Rona smiled. ‘I’d really enjoy that.’
    *        *        *
    â€˜So,’ said Nancy, the next day when she caught up with Rona. ‘What’s he like then—a dreamboat?’
    â€˜No,’ Rona hesitated. ‘I wouldn’t say that, but he’s good fun.’
    â€˜Can’t have everything,’ said her friend. ‘Did I tell you about the man who came to repair the typewriters?’

CONFRONTING DOUG
    â€˜There was something else worrying Rona. Once or twice she had seen Doug in the town and he’d pretended not to see her. On two separate occasions she had seen him helping the same girl into the passenger seat.
    She was very smart, thought Rona. I’d never get away with all that make-up. Father would have a fit if I wore all that eye makeup. And as for Aunt Lizzie . . .
    So where had he got the car? She had an idea that as a mechanic at the garage, he wasn’t paid that much—certainly not enough to buy a car.
    He couldn’t have . . . no, she pushed the thought away. Doug was honest as the day, he’d never think of
borrowing
a car.
    But still, she was uneasy, and she decided that she must ask him, as tactfully as she could, who the car belonged to. It was all a matter of waiting for the right moment.
    Meantime, Callum had dropped into the shop.
    â€˜OK to come to the ceilidh on