Read Sadler's Birthday for Free Online

she see it was a fine morning and it’d be so much fun helping them unpack their things and get everything straight and what’s more she was sure they could do with another pair of hands.
    When Betsy stopped for breath Annie began ‘Well, Bets . . .’
    â€˜Course Annie must go.’ Greg said firmly.
    â€˜Monday’s usually——’
    â€˜Washing’ll keep, won’t it love?’
    â€˜You’ll be needing a clean shirt tomorrow.’
    â€˜And a thousand pounds and a lot of other things!’
    Betsy laughed.
    â€˜Go on ,’ Greg said, ‘go and have some fun, girlie.’
    No sooner said than Betsy had caught Annie’s hand and was dragging her out into the sunshine. ‘We’ve got to go and pick some flowers,’ she was saying, ‘I promised my Mum that we’d be welcoming when they come . . .’
    After they’d gone, Greg cursed. For what was his Annie wearing that morning if not her old green smock she put on for housework? Why in the world hadn’t he noticed and told her to go and change, to put on something that set off her nice little figure. Angry with himself, he cleared away the breakfast crocks and, unconcerned whether he’d be late for his job, set about washing them up.
    Annie and Betsy filled an old basket with wild blue cornflowers and mauve scabious growing by the hedgerows where the narrow road led eastwards out of town. ‘They never last,’ said Annie, ‘if you pick them.’ But Betsy insisted, for what was more welcoming than a vase of flowers?
    Then they walked back to the house with the yellow windows and Betsy, dismayed by finding the door locked, climbed in, petticoat and little brown boots in the air, through one of the windows. Then as she turned to give a hand to Annie, she remembered she’d forgotten the vase her Mum had said she could borrow. So out she climbed again, her cheeks red and shiny now because of the heat and her breath fast running out.
    â€˜You wait here,’ she panted, ‘in case they come. I’ll go and bring the vase.’
    â€˜But Betsy . . .’
    She was off down the street, flying along like a little white butterfly, almost out of sight before Annie could finish her sentence.
    Annie was hot, too. She noticed that the entrance porch to the house had two little stone seats, one on either side of it, so she sat down there, grateful for the shade. What a burning summer’s day it was, the kind of day you remembered when you were old. She sniffed the flowers. All their freshness would be gone in a few hours of this heat. So silly of Betsy to want to pick them. Annie put them down, to spare them the heat of her hand. Then she took off her heavy green smock, folded it up and put it under the seat. Sitting there, in her clean white blouse and her favourite blue skirt, she felt quietly happy. In the shadow of the porch her wide grey eyes looked very black.
    It was like this, half hidden by the brick pillars of the porch, that Joe Elkins first saw her. His head was damp with sweat from driving the horse and heavy old cart over bumpy roads and the sweat had begun to run down into his eyes, that and the strong sunlight doing their best to blind him. So, as he clambered down from the cart and caught sight of Annie sitting in the shadow, he wondered if she was really there. He rubbed his eyes and he saw her get up and come towards him, holding out some flowers.
    â€˜Good morning,’ Joe said.
    â€˜I’m sorry . . .’ Annie began, ‘Betsy just went up to her Mum’s for a vase – for these.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜She won’t be more than a minute or two.’
    Joe smiled. ‘Left you on guard, did she?’
    â€˜In a way.’ Annie felt herself blushing. ‘I’m Annie Sadler.’
    â€˜Pleased to meet you, Annie Sadler. I’m Joe Elkins, cousin Betsy’s cousin.’
    He’d