Finding Home by Kate Field (books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕

the menus. ‘But bear in mind that they make delicious cakes and you’ll want to save room for one.’

Cakes twice in one day? Mim decided she deserved it after her swim this morning. It always gave her an appetite and so she tucked into a huge bowl of soup, a plate of sandwiches, and a slice of chocolate fudge cake without even a pang of guilt.

‘This is one of the things I like about you, Mim,’ Bea said, as she poured them both another cup of tea. ‘You enjoy your food and don’t mind showing it.’

‘Is that a polite way of saying I’m greedy?’

Bea laughed.

‘You are very naughty, twisting my words. And on the subject of being naughty, there’s something we need to discuss.’

Mim froze, the last piece of chocolate fudge cake halfway to her mouth. What had she done wrong? She’d tried to live as frugally as she could in the caravan but she couldn’t avoid the cost of using the cooker and the water. Were the bills mounting up? Or was it something worse? Had she left a pair of coloured knickers in Bea’s washing machine and ruined some expensive clothes? She ate the piece of cake quickly and put down her spoon.

‘If I’ve done something wrong and you want me to move out, please just say it,’ she said. ‘You’ve already been kinder than you needed to be by letting me stay so long.’

‘Move out?’ Bea repeated. She shook her head. ‘Only if you’ve found somewhere you’d rather be. You misunderstand, Mim dear. I’m concerned, not cross. Corin told me that you’re still not using the heating in the caravan.’

Mim sighed. Not that again.

‘He had no business mentioning it,’ she said. ‘He’s a tell-tale.’

‘He’s also sensible. He reminded me that the fires in the caravans haven’t been checked for years and might not be safe. So actually I’m asking you not to use the fire until the gas engineer has been. I’ve booked him in for Friday. You’ll be at work, won’t you, so it won’t disturb you.’

Easy for Bea to say; she hadn’t lived in the sort of places that Mim had, where rooms and possessions were considered common property. Even here, it would disturb Mim to know that a stranger was in her space. She tried to protest.

‘You don’t need to do that for me. I’m happy without the fire. It’s not that cold down here compared to what I’m used to. It will be safe enough if I don’t use it.’

Bea dismissed this with a wave of her hand.

‘We’ll need to have them all serviced before we use them again, so it makes sense for yours to be done too.’

‘Before they’re used again?’ Mim forgot her own concerns and grinned as she realised what Bea meant. ‘Does that mean you’ve agreed to Lia’s idea about the holidays?’

‘Of course. How could you doubt it? It’s a wonderful idea. I’m only ashamed we didn’t think of it ourselves.’ Bea smiled. ‘We need to all come together and make plans for how it will work. What about Sunday? We can combine it with lunch.’

‘I’ll be in the shop.’ Mim couldn’t hide her disappointment. She may have just eaten a hearty lunch, but the thought of missing a Sunday roast was a huge blow. ‘You don’t need me there,’ she said reluctantly. ‘It doesn’t really have anything to do with me.’

‘Nonsense,’ Bea said. ‘It has everything to do with you. We’ll make it for Monday evening instead, after dinner. This is going to be a huge success. We won’t let it be anything else.’

Mim hoped so but she couldn’t help wondering if the same words had been spoken when the caravans were launched the first time – and that hadn’t been much of a success, had it? She was going to do everything she could to make it a success this time. Bea checked her watch and raised her hand for the bill.

‘I’ve delayed us too long. We’re going to be late.’

‘Late for what?’ Mim asked, pulling on her coat. She hadn’t realised they had another appointment that day.

‘I told Ros that you would babysit the children. She has a meeting this afternoon and has asked me to go with her. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Me? Babysit?’ Mim stared at Bea. ‘I don’t know anything about children. Don’t I need qualifications for that?’

‘It’s not a permanent job.’ Bea smiled as she tapped her payment card against the machine. ‘I thought you’d run a hotel? I think you can manage a couple of toddlers for an hour or two. It’s all perfectly simple.’

It took Mim less than an hour to conclude that babysitting wasn’t simple and it definitely wasn’t perfect. She’d encountered children in the hotel occasionally but never had any direct dealings with them and hadn’t been left in charge of any. Although she soon realised that it was a mistake to imagine she was in charge. Jeremy and Maisie seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy and, though only one and three years old, a strong determination that they should get their own way.

Mim was looking after them at Vennhallow. After an hour of covering the kitchen with paint and bricks faster than Mim could tidy up, she decided the only safe option was to take them outside and let them run around until they wore themselves out. She helped them put on wellies and anoraks and shooed them out into the garden.

Jeremy didn’t need any encouragement. As soon as he was out of the front door, he shot off across the lawn, with Maisie tottering behind on her chubby toddler legs. Mim chased after them and for the next twenty minutes it did seem simple, after all. She chased, they ran. They ran, they laughed. But then Maisie sank down onto the grass and started to suck her thumb and wouldn’t move another centimetre.

Mim looked down at her, wishing she’d had the sense to bring a pram. Maisie stared back and lifted her