LITMIR.BIZ

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER ONE

      THE FOTHERGILLS were out in force; it wasn’t often that they were all home together at the same time. Annis was always there, of course, being the eldest and such a help in running the parish and helping her mother around the house, and contrary to would-be sympathisers, perfectly content with her lot. Mary who came next was in her first year at college and Edward, at seventeen, was in his last term at the public school whose fees had been the cause of much sacrifice on his parents part. James was at the grammar school in a neighbouring town and Emma and Audrey were still at the local church school. So they didn’t see much of each other, because holidays weren’t always exactly the same and they all possessed so many friends that one or other of them was mostly away visiting one or other of them. But just for once the half term holiday had fallen on the same days for all of them, and since the February afternoon was masquerading as spring, they had all elected to go for a walk together.

      Annis led the way, a tall, well built girl with glorious red hair and a lovely face. She looked a good deal younger than her twenty-two years and although she was moderately clever, she had an endearing dreaminess, a generous nature and a complete lack of sophistication. She also, on occasion, made no bones about speaking her mind if her feelings had been strongly stirred.

      Mary, walking with Audrey a few paces behind her, was slighter and smaller in build and just as pretty in a dark way, while little Audrey, still plump and youthfully awkward, had her elder sister’s red hair and cornflower blue eyes.

      Emma and James were together, quarrelling cheerfully about something or other, and Edward brought up the rear, a dark, serious boy who intended to follow in his father’s footsteps.

      The church and the Rectory lay at one end of Millbury, the village to which their father had brought his young wife and where they still lived in the early Victorian house which had been considered suitable for the rector in those days, and was still suitable for the Reverend Mr Fothergill, considering the size of his family. Certainly it had a great many rooms, some of them far too large and lofty for comfort, but there was only one bathroom with an old-fashioned bath on clawed feet in its centre, and the hot water system needed a good deal of forbearance, while the kitchen, although cosy and plentifully supplied with cupboards, lacked the amenities considered by most people to be quite necessary nowadays. Mrs Fothergill, a gently placid woman, didn’t complain, for the simple reason that it would have been of no use; with six children to bring up, clothe and feed, there had never been enough money to spare on the house. Her one consolation was that since she had married young, there was the strong possibility that all the children would be nicely settled in time for her to turn her attention to refurbishing it.

      Reaching the top of the hill behind the village, Annis turned to look down at her home. From a distance its red brick walls, surrounded by the shrubbery no one had the time to do much about, looked pleasant in the watery sunshine, and beyond it the church’s squat tower stood out against the Wiltshire downs stretching away to more wooded country.

      She turned her fine eyes on to her brothers and sisters gathered around her. ‘There’s plenty of wood in the park,’ she suggested, ‘Matthew told me that they’d cut down several elms along the back drive. Let’s get as much as we can—a pity we didn’t bring some sacks, but I forgot.’

      ‘Well, with six of us carrying a load each, we ought to manage quite a lot,’ offered James. ‘I could go back for some sacks, Annis…?’

      She shook her head. ‘It’ll be getting dark in another hour or so—it’s not worth it.’

      They followed the path running along the edge of the field at the top of the hill and climbed a gate at the end into a narrow lane, and it was another five minutes’ walk before they reached the entrance to the back drive to Mellbury Park where Colonel Avery lived. The lodge beside the open gate had fallen into a near ruin and the drive had degenerated into a deeply rutted track, but they all knew their way around and with Annis still leading, started to walk along it. They came upon the cut down trees within a very short time, and just as Annis had said, there was an abundance of wood.

      They worked methodically; almost everyone went wooding in the village, and the Fothergills had become experts at knowing what best to take and what best to leave and just how much they could carry. Presently, suitably burdened according to size, they turned for home. The bright afternoon was yielding to a grey dusk; by the time they reached it it would be almost dark. Annis marshalled her little band into a single line with Edward leading the way and herself bringing up the rear. Little Audrey, who was frightened of the dark, was directly in front of her, carrying the few light bits of wood considered sufficient for her strength.

      They made a good deal of noise as they went, calling to each other, singing a bit from time to time, laughing a lot. They were almost at the lodge when Annis heard the thud of hooves behind her and stopped to turn the way they had come and shout at the top of her powerful lungs:

      ‘Slow down, Matthew, we’re just ahead of you!’ And as a young man on a big black horse pulled up within yards: ‘Honestly, Matt, you must be out of your mind! You could have bowled the lot of us over like ninepins!’

      ‘No chance of that with you bawling your head off like that—you’re in our park anyway!’

      ‘So what? We come here almost every day.’ She smiled dazzlingly at him. ‘You use our barn for target practice.’

      He laughed then, a pleasant-faced young man of about her own age, and shouted greetings to the rest of the Fothergills, scattered along the path ahead of her, then called over his shoulder, ‘Jake, come and meet our neighbours!’

      The second rider had been waiting quietly, screened by the overgrowth, and Annis hadn’t seen him. He was astride a strawberry roan, a big man with powerful shoulders

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