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Remember Miranda难忘米兰达
1 Beach House
The children and their father remember Miranda, of course, and they talk about her sometimes.
Miranda's sister often visits us, and she always tells the children a story about their mother.
Nick remembers Miranda; I know he does.
And in the hospital. Grandma remembers, too.
They all remember Miranda.
I never met Miranda, but every day I look at her photograph,
next to the telephone in the kitchen, the picture of her with her children.
Every day I look at her beautiful dark eyes and her long dark hair.
I first saw Miranda's photograph two years ago.
It was a cold October day, and I left London for my new job with a family in Norfolk.
I drove north, past Norwich, and it began to rain.
It was dark and there was a strong wind so I drove slowly and carefully.
I wanted to see the Harvey children before they went to bed.
But because of the weather, it was eight o’clock before I arrived in Cromer.
I drove through the town, along the sea road.
Suddenly, I stopped. There was a tree across the road.
I got out of my car. It was a big tree, and I couldn't move it.
Just then, a car drove up behind me and a man got out.
‘What's the matter? Oh— a tree across the road.’
He was a tall man, about thirty years old. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.
‘Not far,’ I said. ‘It's a house along this road, near the sea. It's called Beach House.’
‘Oh, I know Beach House,’ the man said. ‘It's the last house along this road.
‘But you can't drive there tonight, with this tree across the road.’
He stopped for a minute. ‘I’m Nick Watson, and I live at the farm along the road.
‘We can go back to my house, and then walk across the fields to Beach House.
‘Are you visiting for the weekend?’
‘No, no. I’m going to work in the house and look after Mr Harvey's children.
‘Their mother died two years ago, and their grandmother has arthritis in her legs and can't walk much now.
‘So I’m going to look after the children and the house,’ I told him.
‘I met old Mrs Harvey in London, six weeks ago, and she gave me the job. Do you know the Harveys?’
The man laughed. His laugh was warm and friendly. ‘Oh, yes, I know them,’ he said.
We drove back down the road and into the farm. Then we walked across the fields.
It was dark and windy and cold.
After ten minutes we arrived at a big white house.
The lights were on downstairs, and the house looked friendly.
I had no home because my mother and father died a long time ago, and I had no brothers or sisters.
This was my first job and I wanted to be happy in this house.
A man opened the door. He looked tired and there was no smile on his face.
‘Hello, I'm Cathy Wilson,’ I began. ‘I'm very late, I know. It's because the weather's so bad.’
‘There's a tree down across the road,’ Nick said. ‘So Cathy left her car at the farm and we walked here.’
Duncan Harvey looked at Nick. ‘You always want to help,’ he said coldly.
‘And you're always there at the right time, ready to help.’
His face was angry and I didn't understand why.
‘The wind's very strong..." I began. ‘It doesn't matter,’ Nick said.
He smiled at me and his eyes were very blue. ‘Goodbye, Cathy. Come and get your car tomorrow.’
Duncan said nothing. I went into the house and he took me through into the kitchen.
‘Mother, here's Cathy,’ he said. Old Mrs Harvey sat near the window.
‘Hello, my dear,’ she said warmly. ‘What a wind! Come and have something to eat.’
She stood up and walked slowly across the room.
Her hair was white, and she had a stick because of her bad legs.
I sat down and began to eat.
‘Duncan is angry because he doesn't like Nick,’ Mrs Harvey told me quietly. ‘He's not angry with you.’
Why didn't Duncan like Nick? I thought.
I didn't understand, but I didn't like to ask Mrs Harvey.
The next morning I met the children.
Tim was five years old. He ran up and down the garden with a football.
Susan was seven years old, a quiet little girl with big brown eyes.
She watched me carefully but she didn't smile.
The weather changed and the sun was warm.
In the afternoon I walked with the children by the sea.
The sky was blue and the sea was beautiful.
I cooked dinner and we all ate in the kitchen.
After dinner Juliet arrived.
‘I left my car at Nick's,’ she said. ‘There's a tree across the road.’
Juliet had long black hair and dark eyes. She was Miranda's sister.
‘Miranda was wonderful,’ she told me. ‘Wonderful and beautiful.’
‘Yes, I know,’ I said quietly. ‘I saw the photograph of her, next to the telephone, with Tim and Susan.’
‘Miranda is our mummy,’ Susan said. ‘She died a long time ago.’
‘Let's go to the cinema,’ Juliet said suddenly. ‘I want to take Susan and Tim. Cathy, you come with us.’
Tim began to shout. ‘Let's go to the cinema! Let's go to the cinema!’
‘Be quiet, Tim!’ Duncan said. He looked angry.
‘No, Juliet. It's school tomorrow, and the children must go to bed early.’
Tim began to cry. ‘I want to go with Juliet,’ he said. ‘No, Tim,’ Duncan said.
‘We can go to the cinema next weekend,’ I said quickly.
‘Let's play with your little cars now.’ And soon Tim stopped crying.
The days went quickly.
Duncan went to stay in London for three weeks for his work.
He had a job with a big London company.
He often worked on his computer at home, but he went away a lot, too.
I liked the children and I liked old Mrs Harvey, but I had no friends.
One day, I came out of a shop in Cromer, and there was Juliet!
‘Hello!’ she said. ‘It's good to see you! Let's go and have a coffee, and we can talk.’
And we did.
Juliet told me about her teaching job, and she talked about Susan and Tim, and she talked about her sister.
‘I often visited Miranda at Beach House because she wasn't happy there,’ Juliet said quietly.
‘Duncan is a difficult man; you can see that. He loved her, of course, but he was often away in London.
‘She loved the children, and Grandma, but she was very lonely.’
I was lonely, too, at Beach House.
Juliet stood up and smiled warmly. ‘I must go now.
‘Let's go to the cinema this weekend with the children. Ask Grandma tonight, and ring me.’
And so I found a friend.
