over which she wore an apron covered in biscuit crumbs and spotted with raspberry jam. Jessie guessed correctly that she came from the bakery across the street. Her long red hair she wore in a bun that resembled an untidy beehive. Instinctively Jessie liked the woman although she had still not spoken a word. ‘Hello can I help?’ Jessie asked with more confidence than she felt. The woman did not immediately reply, but continued to stare with unabashed amazement around the room.
‘Can I help?’ The woman chuckled. ‘Well now that’s one for the books isn’t it? It strikes me that it is you my dear that is in need of help.’
Jessie felt about to retort but the large woman motioned to her to keep quiet. ‘My name is Gertrude Matilda Georgina Bunnington but you can call me Mrs Bun, every one else does. In my fifty-seven years of life I can still not fathom out why any parent would land their child with such a handle.’
Jessie stared open mouth, meanwhile Allison giggled.
‘Good, that’s what I like, a child with a smile, not a face as long as a garden rake. Now tell me, what you are doing here, in old Miss Kelly’s house?’
Jessie introduced herself and Allison. Then she briefly explained that they had been given consent to live here. ‘I have a letter here from Fred Kelly, who now owns the cottage.’ She reached to get her bag and produce the letter.
‘Look here, I don’t care if you have a letter from the Queen herself, there is no way you can stay here. Just look at the place. Miss Kelly has been dead for some years now and no one has bothered with keeping it in repair. We all knew there was a brother somewhere. It has been an eyesore in the community, but no one knew how to contact this brother. Mind you the old dear was a funny old trout, she never bothered with any of the neighbours. At one time the garden was a real show-piece which is more than I can say for her, plain as a pike staff she was. However enough about her, the problem today is that you two cannot stay here and that is obvious. I have a spare room with a big feather bed so you can both stay with me until you get yourselves sorted. So quick sharp, now gather up your things.’
Jessie felt like a child who had just been given a lecture. Mrs Bun was right of course, there was no way that they could stay with the place in this condition. The memory of Allison’s disgust at having to use the outside toilet was her foremost thought. She felt she should make some token gesture of objecting. However the look of relief that had flooded over her daughter’s face made her swallow her pride. ‘Thank you Mrs Bun. We would be very grateful to accept your offer and more than willing to pay you for your kindness.’
‘If I had wanted a boarder I would have gone out and advertised for one, so there will be no more talk of money.’
Jessie and Allison gathered up their belongings and followed Mrs Bun across the road. Although she was a large woman she moved with amazing speed and agility. Jessie found herself puffing by the time she reached Mrs Bun’s back door. A dog of indefinable breed lay sprawled out across the step. ‘Come on, Murphy, move yourself, you great big lazy heap of bones.’ Mrs Bun gently kicked the tired looking dog, which moved with infinite slowness. He then sat down again on the path, with a look of annoyance on his shaggy face. Allison put down her bags and began fondling the dog’s ears.
‘Do you like dogs then, Allison?’
‘She cannot hear you Mrs Bun, Allison is deaf.’
‘Oh dear, the poor little lamb. But I thought that she was listening to me back at the cottage?’
‘She lip reads and we use sign language.’
‘Well, I use sign language when talking to my Bill, but I am sure it is not the type you are talking about. Mind you, Allison will probably get on well with my Bill he claims he is deaf and all, but he can always hear what he’s not supposed to. Come in and meet him.’
‘I hope he will not mind us staying for a few days?’
‘Mind! He will be glad of the company. He is crippled with arthritis you see and he cannot get around as he used to do, so having someone other than me to talk to will suit him just fine. He says he cannot get in a word edgeways with me, but I am sure I don’t know what he means.’
Jessie smiled to herself and followed Mrs Bun inside. Everything had a well-worn and polished look about it. Jessie’s immediate thought was that this was a happy house. Mrs Bun led the way into a large sunlit room, full of old but comfortable looking furniture. Knick-knacks and pot plants were on every shelf and windowsill. Sitting under the widow was a small thin man with a pleasant face but Jessie suspected that he suffered a great deal of pain.
‘Well, I can see you have worked as hard as Murphy out there.’ Mrs Bun flapped her hands at him. Despite her flippant manner Jessie perceived that Mrs Bun obviously adored her husband. ‘Come in the pair of you, don’t stand blocking the doorway.’ She motioned with her arms for them to come into the room. ‘This is Bill, my husband.’ Turning to him her manner became softer. ‘Bill dear, this is Jessie and her daughter Allison, they have come to live in old Miss Kelly’s cottage. Of course they cannot stay there in the condition it is in. So I have invited them to stay with us until they get it ready to live in.’
Bill smiled and his smile transformed his face. The lines of pain disappeared and replaced with warmth and kindness. He extended his hand. ‘Nice to meet you both. I hope you will enjoy your stay.’
Jessie shook his hand and although the grip was firm she suspected it cost him some pain to do so. In contrast to his wife he spoke in a quiet almost inaudible voice.
‘Please, call me Bill, Mr Bunnington is such a mouthful.’ Jessie smiled gratefully at him.
‘Well I see Murphy has found a new friend.’ Murphy the dog had followed them inside and was unashamedly enjoying the attention given to him by Allison.
‘He has more fleas than brains that dog, but he still knows which side his bread is buttered on. Like most males he enjoys having a female fuss over him.’ Mrs Bun’s voice filled the room. Again though her tone lowered and became softer when speaking directly to her husband. ‘Bill dear, Allison is deaf but she can lip read.’
‘The poor wee thing, well at least she won’t have to listen to your constant chatter,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.
‘William Bunnington I am sure I do not know what you mean,’ she replied as she playfully ruffled his thinning grey hair. ‘Come with me Jessie, I will show you where to put your things.’
Jessie was taken into a large airy room. The windows faced out towards the sea across the road. The lace curtains were blowing gently in the warm breeze. A four-poster bed dominated the room and Jessie could tell at a glance that it would be deliciously comfortable. A faded rose patterned carpet covered the floor, giving the room a soft warm appearance.
‘Make yourselves at home, the bathroom is the next door on the left. We eat at six but we don’t stand on ceremony here, so there is no need to press your ball gown, we are just plain simple folks.’
All the kindness extended to them had the effect of making her feel weepy. She was emotionally drained. Her eyes were moist and she felt choked up as she spoke, ‘Thank you Mrs Bun, what can I do to help?’
Mrs Bun’s demeanour changed as she spoke directly to Jessie, positioning herself so that Allison could not lip read. ‘Jessie I am old woman, who talks far too much, but I am not stupid. I know you are here because you are running from someone, or something, and at a guess I would say it something to do with that large bruise on your
