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

Once the Christmas break was out of the way, her top priority was to find a job and somewhere to live, but couldn’t she do that just as well here? Maybe there were more opportunities down here in tourist country for someone with hotel and bar experience. She took a deep breath and immersed herself in the water. She needed to make an objective decision and not be swayed by luxuries such as orange-scented bubble bath and a roast dinner. These were temporary treats, not a real part of the life she might lead in Devon. And yet, as she eventually strode out of the bathroom wrapped in the warm towel, and let her toes sink into the deep pile of the bedroom carpet, she couldn’t resist dancing across the room and pretending that all this was hers.

She paused by the window, looking out across the lawn. The mist still hung low in the distance, over where Mim guessed the sea to be, but the garden was clear and she could see a team hard at work dismantling the marquee. Voices and laughter drifted up, stirring a memory. There were two men standing below her window, one wearing a sweatshirt with the marquee company logo on it, and the other a dark-haired man wearing jeans and a woolly jumper. She pressed closer to the glass for a better look, and as she did, the man in the jumper turned and she glimpsed the bewitching smile of the waiter who had hidden under the trees the night before. She was surprised to see him again; perhaps he worked for the family and was expected to help with whatever needed doing around the house. It was certainly big enough to need staff. She felt a flash of sympathy; she knew what it was like to juggle a multitude of random jobs, trying to make ends meet. Before she could move away, he glanced up and caught her watching, and his smile grew. She pulled the towel more tightly round her and retreated into the bedroom.

The kitchen was busy when Mim eventually found her way back downstairs. Bill was kneeling on the rug between the sofas, helping two small children build an elaborate construction with coloured bricks which looked far too advanced for their ages. A couple around her own age, who Mim didn’t know, lounged on one of the sofas, chatting. Lia was perched on a chair at the table, sketching, and an unfamiliar man in his twenties was helping Bea in the kitchen. Classical music flowed out from hidden speakers. Mim hovered in the doorway, relishing this picture of contented family life. She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

‘Mim’s here!’ Bill called, looking up from the bricks and spotting her. ‘Come in, come in. Don’t be lurking there. Olly, pour Mim a glass, there’s a boy. She deserves it more than the rest of us. She did a day’s work yesterday while we were enjoying the party. Make it a large one and you can top up the rest of us while you’re at it.’

The young man in the kitchen – presumably Olly – filled a Champagne flute from one of several bottles resting in an ice bucket and handed it to Mim.

‘Good to meet you, Mim,’ he said. ‘Although from the way Mum and Dad have been talking, I’m disappointed you don’t have wings and a halo.’

‘I only wear them on special occasions.’ Mim smiled in response to Olly’s infectious grin. It was easy to see the connection with Lia; he had the same delicate features and expressive eyes, although she guessed he was a year or two older. He was immaculately dressed in striped trousers and a floral sprig shirt, which probably shouldn’t have worked together but somehow did. Like everyone else she’d met in the family, his outfit shrieked of designer labels and expensive price tags.

‘I knew that bath would do you good,’ Bea said, smiling at Mim. The sunglasses had now been replaced with a pair of normal glasses, with half green and half blue frames, that co-ordinated with her jumper and chunky necklace. ‘You’re glowing. You look more relaxed already. See how Devon life suits you! Now, who don’t you know? That’s Olly, number three, and over by the window you’ll find Ros, number two, with her husband Jonty. The little ones are their children Jeremy and Maisie. We’re just waiting for Corin, the son and heir, and then everyone’s here. First born, but generally the last to any gathering!’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Mim asked. There were pans on every ring of the large induction hob, and three ovens were blasting out welcome heat. Everything looked under control but she would prefer to be doing something useful than idling about making small talk. How would they ever find common ground?

‘You’re a darling to offer, but certainly not. You’re a guest.’ Bea laughed. ‘Don’t be fooled, my dear. I’m not actually cooking. Paula brought the whole meal round yesterday. All I’m doing is heating it up in accordance with her detailed instructions.’ Bea waved a typed sheet of paper at Mim. ‘On the subject of Paula,’ she continued, ‘she left this for you.’

She opened a drawer and passed an envelope to Mim. There was a stack of money inside, more than double what Mim had in her purse at the moment.

‘What’s this for?’ she asked Bea.

‘It’s your wages for yesterday. It seemed light to me, but Paula assures me it’s the going rate.’

‘That’s brilliant. Thank you.’ Mim flicked through the notes. Light? She felt suddenly weighed down by riches. She’d thought the work yesterday was a favour to Bea. She hadn’t realised she would be paid for it. Her mind whirled with images of what she could do with the money. She could treat herself to a hot meal every day for a couple of weeks. Or pick up a warmer coat and some boots from a charity shop.