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It had been a quiet day in the village. Emily worked in the baker's shop and she hadn't seen that many customers. The two Hudson sisters had been in and, as usual, stayed for a long chat, mainly to check on Emily's mother with whom they had been classmates at the village school some 40 or so years ago. Emily had also gone to the school as had most of the young people who lived in Chasuton.
The village was home to about 400 people and nearly all of them had turned up in the village hall three years ago on December 31 when they, along with rest of the world, had celebrated moving into a new century. Within a couple of years of that the Queen had died and we now lived, so Emily had read in the newspaper her father always brought back from his job in the city, in the Edwardian era.
It had made very little difference to life, Emily thought. Her father still worked in the bank and went to work by train from the village station. When she was younger Emily and her brother had spent many sunny summer afternoons in the school holidays, sitting in the fields and watching the trains go by. They could see a great cloud of smoke belching from the engine long before it came into view and they would usually stand up and wave to the passengers, some of whom waved back.
But that was when she was young. Now she had a job and brought in some extra money to help her mum and dad. Mum was still doing some sewing work for other villages but also for the people who lived in the great manor house a few miles outside the village. Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays, the horse and carriage used by the servants would draw up outside the bakers and Emily would have to serve a young girl, not much older than her, with the loaves and cakes ordered at the previous visit.
Suddenly Emily noticed a lot of people gathering on the street outside the shop. Then she heard a weird popping and banging sound. She moved to the front door of the shop, opened it and was nearly covered in a load of dust. A strange vehicle, looking a bit like a carriage but without any horses at the front, came to a stop in front of the shop. The dust had come from the road which ran through the village and in summer, when it was dry, the horses would throw up dust too but not on this level.
The servant girl from the manor house stepped out of the vehicle and moved toward the shop.
“That's so much fun”, she said to Emily as they both walked through the doorway.
“Is that a car”, asked Emily?
“Yes and we now have two at the manor, one for the family and one for the servants to use for errands. John, who used to look after the horses, is our driver. Some of the shops in the city are now delivering orders using their own cars”.
Emily realised that maybe things were changing in her quiet little village
Here is Richard reading the story to you.
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