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

have to ask, however unlikely it seemed. Janet wasn’t heartless, underneath the gruff surface. She’d understand the urgency, wouldn’t she?

She was a couple of minutes late when she finally arrived at the shop. She ran across the street from the beach car park and saw a cross-faced Janet in the doorway, changing the sign to ‘open’. By the time Mim entered, she could hear Janet’s heavy tread clomping up the stairs. She followed her up and caught her settling down at her desk in the office.

‘You shouldn’t be up here,’ Janet said, swivelling in her chair as Mim burst in. ‘You’re already late. I’ll have to dock your pay. I hope you haven’t left the shop door unlocked.’

Mim had, but didn’t think admitting it would help her cause.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said, ‘but there’s an emergency at Vennhallow. The caravans have been vandalised overnight. Some kids have sprayed paint all over them. Can you believe they’d do that?’ Mim looked for a flicker of sympathy but Janet’s face was impassive as usual. ‘We have to clean them before the charity launches on Saturday. We need as many people as we can find to help.’

‘I hope you’re not expecting me to help. I can’t do it with my legs the way they are.’

‘No.’ Mim smiled. She could imagine the reaction if she sent back Janet instead of returning herself. ‘I hoped you might let me have the day off and possibly tomorrow too if we need it. I could take it as holiday or work different days to make it up.’

‘It’s too short notice for time off. Who will cover the shop if you go? I’ve a busy day ahead.’

‘What about the morning then?’ Mim asked. It wasn’t ideal but it would be better than nothing. ‘I’ll come back at one and work the afternoon.’

‘That’s not convenient.’ Janet swivelled from side to side in her chair. ‘You need to sort out your priorities. What’s more important, your job or this charity nonsense?’

‘Nonsense?’ Mim repeated, surprised at Janet’s reaction. ‘It’s not nonsense to want to help people who are having a rough time in life. You can’t make me choose between earning a living and being kind.’

‘I’m your boss. I can do exactly that.’

Janet spun her chair away from Mim, ending the conversation. As she did, she knocked the edge of her desk, and the screensaver vanished from the computer screen, revealing the document she was working on. It was a poster and the central message in large, red capitals read, ‘COAST LINE NOT KNIFE CRIME’. Mim gasped. Surely not…

‘It was you?’ she said. She couldn’t believe it. ‘You’re behind the attempts to sabotage the charity?’

‘What if I am? I’m not ashamed of it.’ Janet stared at Mim. She wasn’t embarrassed or defiant; there was no emotion in her face at all. ‘This is a good village for decent people. I’ve worked hard all my life to build up my business as a nest egg for retirement and I won’t have it ruined by this scheme. We don’t want layabouts coming here from those sink estates in the city, peddling drugs and flashing their knives around. It will drive the tourists away. I watch the news. I know what goes on.’

‘Those aren’t the people we’re going to help,’ Mim said. She was probably wasting her breath but she had to try. ‘This charity is for the people who work hard but who can still barely afford to eat, let alone take a holiday. It’s for the people who have had bad luck and lost their job, or who can’t work because of illness or through caring for an ill or disabled relative. There are all sorts of reasons why people might need a holiday.’

‘If they can’t afford a holiday then they need to work harder. I run three businesses to make ends meet and I’ve never had to beg for handouts. I don’t know what the Howards were thinking, setting this up in our village. They could afford to send these people anywhere on holiday. Why do we have to have them in our backyard?’

Mim was too incensed to hold her tongue.

‘These people?’ she repeated. ‘These people are my people. I know what it’s like to work multiple jobs, to be so tired that you can barely stand up, and still worry about where the next meal is coming from or whether you’ll have a roof over your head the next night. I know what it’s like to have people judge you unfairly for things that aren’t your fault. When I was living in care—’

‘In care?’ Janet heaved herself on to her feet. ‘So that’s your story, is it? No wonder you didn’t have references. What was Corin Howard thinking of, vouching for you?’ She gave a scornful laugh. ‘What was he thinking with, more like! Hooked by a pretty face, was he? Hankered for something rough? Don’t get your hopes up for anything more. You’ll never be good enough for him.’

‘You’re a nasty old witch!’ Mim said. ‘You can stick your job. I wouldn’t work another second for you if you paid a million pounds an hour!’

‘You can’t quit. You’re fired,’ Janet shouted, but Mim was already halfway down the stairs, desperate to get away from the poisonous air of Janet’s flat.

It wasn’t quite an army, but a platoon of volunteers had arrived at the caravan field by the time Mim returned. She could see many familiar faces, including Bill and Bea, Lia and Bobby, Ros, Howie, Paula… She stood by the gate, taking in the sight with mixed feelings. It was brilliant that all these people were here and after Janet’s words, it was reassuring to be reminded of all the good people in the world. But there was a shaft of sadness too. She’d thought of nothing else all the way back. She loved it here but now she had thrown away her job, how could she afford to stay?

‘Mim!’ Corin was standing on the veranda