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

same way she would have looked out for one of her own children. But Mim wasn’t part of this family, however much she might wish it; she couldn’t get used to being looked after by them. She’d established her independence over long, hard years and now it was in danger of slipping away, as she’d realised she relished being part of a team rather than going it alone. She couldn’t let that happen. It was all about self-preservation. Who knew when she might be on her own again? The novelty of her arrival would wear off one day, if it hadn’t already, and the Howards would be caught up in other weddings, other dinners, other family occasions in which Mim had no part. These past months had been precious, perhaps the most precious she’d known; she didn’t want to follow them with awkwardness and embarrassment if she outstayed her welcome. She had to leave, had to believe it was the right decision. Better to go on her own terms with happy memories intact. But her heart hurt; it would be the most agonising thing she’d ever done.

She turned her back on the view and smiled at Bea.

‘I’m glad you’re up,’ she said, and she was relieved to hear her voice sound so calm, so normal. ‘I would have hated to leave without saying goodbye. And thank you. You’ve been amazing.’

Bea laughed.

‘You’re only going down the track to your caravan. I don’t think we need sentimental goodbyes, do we? It’s us that should be thanking you for holding the fort here. I think it’s done Bill the world of good to have a break.’

‘I meant that I was leaving here,’ Mim explained. ‘Littlemead. Vennhallow. The caravan.’

‘Leaving Vennhallow?’ Bea stared at her. ‘What are you talking about? I don’t understand. I thought you were happy here.’

‘I am. But it was only ever a temporary solution, wasn’t it, staying in the caravan? I should have sorted myself out and gone weeks ago, not let myself get so comfortable.’ Mim willed Bea to understand, not to drag this out a moment longer when every part of her wanted to hold back the words and stay. ‘You’ve been more than patient. I’m embarrassed to have scrounged off you for so long. It’s no wonder you wanted me to inherit some money so I could stand on my own two feet at last and move on.’

Bea reached out and grasped Mim’s hand.

‘This is because of the business with Gordon’s will, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Forgive me. That was none of my concern. Corin did warn me not to interfere and I was mortified when he told me how upset you were by it. You both have every right to be cross with me. But it has nothing to do with wanting you to move on. Far from it.’ Bea glanced behind her, and picked up her cardigan from the sofa. ‘Come with me.’

‘What?’ Mim said. ‘Where?’

‘To the caravans. We were going to show you later but it can’t wait.’

‘What can’t?’

‘Mim, would you stop asking questions and come along?’

Mim had never seen Bea look so fierce. Without another word, she followed her out of the house and down the track towards the caravan field until they turned through the gate and Mim stopped short at the sight in front of her. She hadn’t been near the field for a few days, as she’d been working and staying at Vennhallow overnight. The caravan that she’d helped to paint was now completely finished, with all the masking tape removed and it looked amazing: the shell-pink colour reminded her of the early morning light that she’d sometimes seen from her window. Work had now started on a second caravan and it had already been covered with the base coat.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Bea asked.

She was facing towards a third caravan – Mim’s caravan. When Mim had left it on Wednesday, it had looked as it always had, with bland cream walls streaked with dirt that no amount of elbow grease could clean off. Now it was transformed. The exterior walls were painted in a soft sea-green and shone in the morning light. The steps and veranda had been repaired and painted chalky white, and the flowerpots that previously harboured weeds now were filled with bright flowers. It looked gorgeous, better than Mim could ever have imagined.

‘Come and look inside,’ Bea said, nudging her arm. Mim climbed up the steps, unlocked the door, and stepped in. It was hard to believe it was the same caravan she’d left only five days before. The drab, damp interior had gone, and the place glowed with light and colour that co-ordinated with the exterior paint. The sofa that ran round the wall had been reupholstered with rich, green fabric and scattered with cushions that looked perfect to sink into. The curtains had been replaced with thick drapes that would keep out the winter draughts and a large, fluffy rug covered the floor. The mixture of fabrics, colours and textures blended perfectly to create a relaxed, cosy atmosphere. It was warm and welcoming. It felt like a home.

‘It’s perfect,’ Mim said. She forced herself to smile. This was what she’d hoped for, wasn’t it, for As You Like It holidays? This would offer the ideal retreat for those people that the charity wanted to help. She just hadn’t realised that her caravan was being used after all. ‘The people who stay here will love it.’

‘The people who stay here?’ Bea repeated. ‘For goodness’ sake, Mim, will you stop being so difficult? No one will be staying here except you. This is your caravan, for as long as you want it.’

‘So why have you decorated it?’

‘For you, my dear. Did you really think we would renovate the others and leave you in the damp and the cold? None of us want you to go. You’re one of us; don’t you remember me saying that on the day we met? But we know you like your