Anne Douglas by The Wardens Daughters

know, but I’ve got to sort myself out. Get rid of these terrible bags, decide what to wear—’
    ‘The red suit, the black blouse, wasn’t it?’
    ‘I think, maybe the white shirt, after all. More appropriate, eh?’ Lynette was standing, deep in consideration, before suddenly being galvanized into action and hurrying to the bathroom, pulling her dressing gown around her.
    ‘That’ll be it till I don’t know when,’ Monnie murmured to herself, heaving her bedclothes to her chin again. ‘No point in getting up till Lynette’s finished – anyway, it’s still early.’
    And cold. From where she lay, she could see fresh snow on the hills, but guessed it would not be on the roads. Just as well, as her father was driving Lynette to her interview, while, she, Monnie, held the fort. Strange, since she’d been given her label of assistant warden, looking after the hostel no longer held terrors for her. In fact, she enjoyed it. Meeting all the new people, helping them, thinking of ways to improve their stay. For a start, there was the common room – that could do with a rethink, if a bit of money could be found.
    She really was interested in what she might do, but knew, too, that she was pushing all her ideas to the front of her mind, so as not to dwell too much on what might be already there. Tuesday. Interview Day. Yes, and Fish Day, too. Would it be third time lucky? For what? There were those thoughts again.
    As Lynette returned from the bathroom, smelling of soap and bath salts, Monnie leaped out of bed and said it was time she got dressed, Dad would be wanting his breakfast.
    ‘Seems to have forgotten that he knows how to fry bacon,’ Lynette commented, as she shrugged herself into a crisp white blouse and stepped into her red skirt. ‘Don’t think this is too short, eh?’
    ‘No, it’s perfect. You’ve got good legs, anyway, why not show ’em?’
    ‘Yes, but skirts aren’t that short at the moment, are they? And I don’t know if this difficult manager will approve.’
    ‘As though he’d know what was in fashion! He’ll probably just see a pair of nice legs and that’ll be enough for him.’
    ‘Maybe. I’m not sure. Wonder if I should wear my office black? Be on the safe side.’
    ‘If you’d be happier, yes.’ Monnie sighed with impatience. ‘Have to make up your mind soon, though.’
    ‘The black it is.’
    Lynette was studying her face again, patting her cheeks, smoothing the skin beneath her eyes. ‘Oh, but help, will you look at me? Better have a good session with my make-up after breakfast, eh? Think maybe I’ll persuade Dad not to have bacon this morning. Don’t want the smell in my hair.’
    By half past ten, all worries about clothes, make-up, and what Frank might have for breakfast were over, and Lynette, beautifully ready, in warm coat over her black suit, her face as perfect as possible, was sitting next to her father in the old Morris, gazing at the Talisman Hotel.
    She’d seen it before, of course. They’d come out one afternoon to do a recce, and she couldn’t have been more impressed. Such a fine looking building! White-harled, many-windowed, with what must be spectacular views, trees shielding it from the worst of the wind, and its extensive grounds stocked with hardy shrubs. There was even a tennis court to one side, though at that time of year, it was hard to imagine players on it. Still, summer would come one day and in the meantime there seemed to be quite a number of patrons, anyway, judging from the number of cars drawn up on the hotel forecourt.
    ‘Money,’ Frank said now. ‘The Talisman reeks of money.’
    ‘Well, that’s good,’ Lynette replied. ‘Need something that can attract money in a place like this.’
    ‘Aye, you’re right, I suppose.’ Frank glanced at his watch. ‘Want to go and make your number now? I can drop you at the main door.’
    ‘Hope I’m not supposed to use the tradesman’s entrance,’ Lynette said cheerfully. ‘Oh, Dad, wish