(11/13) Celebrations at Thrush Green Read Online Free

inherited Miss Robinson, a cheerful young woman, who took over the infants' department from Agnes Fogerty. The third member of staff was also young, only just out from college, and still trailing the clouds of child psychology, pastoral care, and the perils of damaging infant sensibilities, but the day-to-day reality of the classroom would soon clear those in time, Alan Lester surmised correctly.
    The three worked well together and the inhabitants of Thrush Green, whether parents of pupils or not, were proud of their school.
    Alan Lester had no doubt that its hundredth birthday would be celebrated in fine style.
    But meanwhile, there was Christmas ...

    But Harold Shoosmith had more urgent things than Christmas to occupy him.
    The rector's invitation to dinner in mid-December to meet Robert Wilberforce was enthusiastically accepted by Harold and Isobel, and it was only a few hours later that Harold had been struck by a stupendous idea.
    'Why not get in touch with Nathaniel's grandson again, or perhaps his wife and daughter?' he enthused to Isobel.
    'But surely,' she pointed out, 'that man — Mulloy, wasn't it — was completely non-cooperative last time?'
    Somewhat dashed, Harold was forced to agree. 'But his wife was helpful. And Nathaniel's great-grand daughter must now be grown up. I wonder if they would consider it?'
    It was quite clear to Isobel that her husband would cling to this idea as resolutely as a terrier with a rat. 'You should have a word with Charles,' she advised. 'I imagine you are thinking of getting these people an invitation to the dinner party. I think Dimity and Charles should be told about your scheme. If the Mulloys are coming from Wales, they would need to stay overnight.'
    'You are quite right,' agreed Harold. 'I get carried away. I will see how Charles feels about it.'
    Later that day he rang the rector, who said he would consult his wife.
    'After all,' Charles said, 'it is Dimity who has to provide the meal, and I do just wonder if Wilberforce would be at all interested in meeting the Mulloys. In any case, I must say at the outset, Harold, that I utterly refuse to have that dissolute fellow we met in Wales at my table.'
    'Fair enough,' said Harold. 'I didn't propose to approach him. But the little girl we met—'
    'Dulcie,' said the rector.
    'That's right! Named after Nathaniel's daughter, her grandmother. She might be available. Shall I try to find out? I'll report back, and you and Dimity can decide the next step.'
    The rector agreed, unable to bring himself to discourage his enthusiastic friend, despite certain reservations about approaching the Mulloy ladies. Nathaniel Patten would have been a most welcome addition to a party at Lulling vicarage, but his descendants might not be such good company, thought Charles. He awaited developments.
    Although it was some twenty years since the two men had been in touch with Nathaniel's descendants, Harold set about the task of tracing them again the next morning with his usual energy and common sense.
    He remembered the name of the Welsh village, and found the number of the local post office. If anyone could tell him about the family, it would be the local postmaster or mistress.
    A woman answered in a lilting Welsh voice. 'I have to tell you that Mrs Mulloy died two or three years ago, and we heard of her husband's death before that, but Miss Dulcie is in London. They moved up there about eight years since. Dulcie's doing well. She was always bright, you know.'
    A vision of a diminutive child briskly cutting up cabbage with a fearsome kitchen knife returned to Harold over the years. Yes, he thought, she had looked a competent little thing even then.
    'And you have her address?'
    'That I have. Letters still come now and again. Reunions at the girls' grammar school and that. I send them on.'
    'Could you let me have it? And her telephone number?'
    There was the sound of rustling paper, then she spoke again. 'I've no telephone number for her, but this is