Anne Douglas Read Online Free

ordering, the packing and unpacking, the reminding of which customer wanted what, and where everything was?
    ‘Oh, Monnie, are you really leaving me?’ he’d groaned when she had given him her news. ‘Going up to the Highlands? I can’t believe it. What am I going to do?’
    ‘You’ll soon find someone else to do what I do,’ she told him as confidently as possible. ‘You’re the one that matters, being the bookman.’
    ‘Yes, Monnie, my dear, but I can’t even tie up a parcel. Still, if you must go, you must, and I’ll have to grin and bear it. Where did you say you were going, again?’
    ‘Conair, a little place near Glenelg opposite Skye. My dad’s going to be warden of a youth hostel up there, and I might be his deputy. I’ve got an interview, anyway.’
    As Monnie reflected on her pleasure at being given an interview for the deputy warden’s post, Mr Bryce looked interested. But not about her possible job.
    ‘Glenelg? Now didn’t Dr Johnson and Boswell stay there on their travels round Scotland? A fascinating account. Could you just put your hand on that copy of Boswell’s Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides , do you think? Maybe I’ll read it again.’
    ‘Right away, Mr Bryce,’ sighed Monnie, wondering if she should draft out an advertisement for her replacement that very day.
    Meanwhile, old Mr Couper was expressing his regret at Miss Forester’s departure from his law firm, Messrs Couper, Couper and Anderson, of Queen Street, Edinburgh. Just as young Mr Couper would have also liked to express his regret, only with young Mrs Couper to remember, it was better he didn’t look too downcast over the departure of the prettiest member of the clerical staff.
    ‘So efficient,’ old Mr Couper sighed. ‘So reliable. Our loss will be someone else’s gain, wouldn’t you say, Miss Millwood?’
    But Miss Millwood, stern-faced senior secretary, preferred not to say too much about Miss Forester, only remarking that she might find it difficult to find a post in the Highlands.
    ‘If anyone can find a post, Miss Forester will,’ old Mr Couper declared, at which Miss Millwood only shrugged.
    Not that Lynette minded. Who cared what Miss Millwood thought? It was well known that she believed Lynette to be far too full of herself – which was probably true, Lynette herself admitted – but that only made it more likely she would find a job. Confidence was what was needed, eh? And it rather pleased Lynette that old Mr Couper had such confidence in her. Young Mr Couper, too, though he never put anything into words. As for Mr Anderson, he was just a name on the letter headings, having been dead for years.
    How typical of a law firm that they should keep the name alive of someone dead, Lynette often commented. Maybe, now she had to look elsewhere, she might find somewhere more exciting to work? The thought helped a little – just a little – in making the move less apprehensive, to use Monnie’s word.
    ‘When we get there,’ she told her sister, ‘you’ll see, we’ll be OK.’
    ‘Think so?’ Monnie asked. ‘Just got to get there, then.’
    ‘Now that we’re definitely going, I can’t wait to leave, can you?’
    ‘It’s true, I wish we were on our way.’
    Some days later, after they’d done all that had to be done, they were – on their way. The flat had been cleaned and polished, and Mrs Logan had agreed to keep an eye on it. The packing cases had been sent off. Frank had completed his course. All farewells, to friends, neighbours, colleagues, and the ‘delinquent’ boys, had been made.
    There they were, then, locking the door, trying not to cry, climbing into the taxi they’d recklessly booked to take them to Waverley Station – well, they did have their big cases to carry – and hurrying out on to the platform to wait for the Inverness train. Oh, how cold it was in the draughty station! Enough to freeze the tears the girls were brushing away.
    ‘Here it comes!’ Frank cried, as their