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

‘The Mediterranean, then. You know what I mean. It’s not like holiday sea, is it? You don’t want to rush out and bathe in that, do you? Unless you’re seriously weird, like Corin,’ she added, almost as an afterthought. ‘He loves all that cold, wet, outdoorsy stuff.’

‘I’ve not been to the Mediterranean either,’ Mim said. She looked out of the window again, wanting to take in every detail in case this was her one and only chance. ‘I’ve never seen the sea before.’

‘What, never ever? Darling, where do you go on holiday? The desert?’

‘I don’t go on holiday.’ A memory slipped into Mim’s mind of her six or seven-year-old self, begging to go away, to visit the seaside like all of her friends had been doing in the summer holidays. Another memory was inextricably linked with it, of how she had been punished for whining and for being an ungrateful child. She shivered, unconsciously rubbing her left forearm, and the ugly scars that were hidden beneath the fine silk of Lia’s blouse. She turned her back on the view and on the shadows of the past that had no place here. She smiled.

‘Didn’t you mention breakfast? I’m sure I can smell bacon.’

Lia introduced Mim to the catering team and when Paula, the lady in charge, had quizzed her about her waitressing experience and finally welcomed her to the team, Mim grabbed a plate of bacon butties and ate them with relish while Lia pointed out the various aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends who drifted in and out of the kitchen. It was impossible to keep track; there seemed to be dozens of people, all talking and shouting over each other so there was never a quiet moment. Bill came in at one point and made a beeline for Mim.

‘Good morning, good morning,’ he said, grinning widely so that his moustache quivered. ‘How was your night in the old caravan; not too bad? Sorry we had to put you in there, but we’re full to the gills as you can see. Not what you’re used to, eh?’

Mim smiled and shook her head. It was a million times better than what she had been used to lately but the owner of this house was never going to understand that.

‘I hope you didn’t mind being asked to help today?’ he asked. ‘It’s all hands on deck when it comes to an event like this and what with your experience it seemed the perfect solution. Bea would have asked herself, only she’s in the middle of her preparations and you know what it’s like. These things can’t be interrupted.’ He laughed. ‘I hope Lia hasn’t driven you to distraction with her chattering yet.’

‘I’ve been on my best behaviour,’ Lia said, dropping a kiss on the top of Bill’s head as he sat down at the kitchen table. She placed a bowl of muesli in front of him and he sighed.

‘The old fish food again, eh? I thought I might have been allowed special dispensation today. I’ve important duties ahead.’

‘And you’ve important duties ahead for years and years,’ Lia replied, draping a casual arm across his shoulders. ‘So you’ll be sticking to the healthy diet.’ Lia smiled at Mim and rolled her eyes. ‘Are all parents so impossible?’

Mim couldn’t answer that and she was glad when Paula called for her to start work. The first job was to set up the tables in the marquee where the wedding reception would be held. After seeing the house, it came as no surprise that the marquee was vast; it even had separate rooms, so a porch led to an entrance lobby which then opened out into a space for dining, with a dance floor at one end and a bar set up in another room at the far end.

The dining area was already filled with tables and chairs but Paula had brought crates of cutlery, china, glassware, and table decorations that all needed to be laid out and given a final polish so that they would sparkle under the lights of the candles that graced the centre of each round table. It was easy work for Mim; she’d laid the tables for breakfast and dinner in the hotel every day, and Paula soon recognised her competence and stopped hovering over her shoulder. It was good to be working again and doing something familiar. Even better, the wait staff were allowed an advance sample of the soup that would be served to the guests later. Two hot meals in a day and both free! Mim could hardly believe her luck.

The afternoon and evening whizzed by in a blur as Mim helped to serve the wedding breakfast and then set out the evening buffet. It felt like she’d stepped inside the pages of one of the celebrity magazines they’d had in the hotel and found herself caught up in a proper society wedding. There was serious wealth and pedigree in this room: she could hear it in the accents, see it in the shimmer of the expensive fabrics and the sparkle of jewels, and smell it in the waft of perfume as she dipped down to remove or deliver plates. Even more intoxicating was the heady atmosphere of love in the room – and not just the bubble of romance that floated around the bride and groom. There were families here: children dancing in the arms of their parents; young people crouched next to old, building a bond between generations; friends laughing as they danced together. Mim soaked up every detail of this mesmerising world that was a million miles away from the one she knew. She loved every bit of it.

When it was almost midnight, the guests were ushered outside for a fireworks display to mark the end of the wedding and the start of the new year. Paula had allowed the waiting staff a break to watch the fireworks. Mim grabbed an abandoned glass of Champagne and hurried outside. The