Kitabı oku: «Hettie of Hope Street», sayfa 2
TWO
The much longed for and awaited letter from the Adelphi hotel had finally arrived, and as she watched Gideon opening it Hettie hardly dared to breathe, her breakfast left untouched as she waited in almost unbearable anxiety.
Whilst Gideon silently and slowly read the letter, Hettie looked appealingly at Ellie.
Loath as she was to lose Hettie’s company, Ellie couldn’t help but feel for her. ‘Gideon, please tell us what it says,’ she begged her husband.
‘It says,’ Gideon answered her, ‘that Miss Henrietta Walker is to present herself at the rooms of Mrs May Buchanan on Thursday of this week in order that Mrs Buchanan may assess her suitability to sing for the Adelphi’s guests.’
‘Oh!’ Such was the intensity of her emotions that Hettie was completely unable to speak. Instead tears poured from her eyes and, with a small choked sob, she got up from her chair and ran to Ellie’s side to bury her head against her shoulder, her whole body shaking.
‘I still can’t believe that I am actually to be auditioned,’ she confided to Miss Brown two hours later, having begged Ellie’s permission to visit her teacher to give her the good news. ‘And it is all down to you,’ Hettie told her teacher earnestly. ‘Mrs Buchanan must have taken note of your recommendation.’
‘I wrote no less than the truth, Hettie,’ Miss Brown assured her. ‘Nature has granted you a very special gift and given you a truly excellent voice.’
‘But it is because of you that I have learned how to use it,’ Hettie replied earnestly.
‘When is your audition?’ Miss Brown asked her excitedly.
‘It is this Thursday. I’m already feeling nervous. My mother has a sister who lives in Liverpool and so we are to take the train Wednesday to be there in plenty of time and stay with my Aunt Connie. What do you think Mrs Buchanan will ask me to sing?’
‘I am sure that she will expect you to have a piece ready prepared,’ Miss Brown answered her. ‘So we must choose something that both shows off the range of your voice and which will fall pleasantly on the ears of ladies taking afternoon tea. This is not a situation where I would recommend the singing of a complicated aria.’ Miss Brown pursed her lips thoughtfully and then said shrewdly, ‘Perhaps something pretty and sentimental would be best.
‘Oh, and I would advise you to wear something smart but loose, so that your voice is not constricted in any way. You will be apprehensive, of course, and anxious, that is to be expected. It is Monday already so we must decide quickly what you will sing so that you can practise it. What about “Auf Wiedersehen?”’ she suggested. ‘After all, Vivienne Segal was just your age when it made her a star.’
Hettie nodded in agreement. She was far too excited to be able to speak. She could hardly believe that in three days time she would be singing at the Adelphi!
The bus had set them down at the corner of the road, and Hettie moved closer to Ellie’s side as her apprehension grew. She had felt more and more nauseous and fearful with every minute that had passed since leaving her Aunt Connie’s.
The rooms where Hettie was to have her audition were in a street off Lime Street, not very far from the Adelphi. The house itself was halfway down the street, and like all its neighbours it had a clean if somewhat austere appearance, its front step donkey-stoned and the doorknocker well polished.
‘Oh, Mam…’ Hettie whispered shakily.
‘What is it, Hettie?’ Ellie asked her gently. ‘Have you changed your mind?’
Immediately Hettie shook her head, missing the faint sigh Ellie gave and the look of anxiety in her eyes.
A small, neatly dressed maid in a crisply immaculate apron and cap opened the front door to them and directed them to a dark back parlour, its furniture heavily festooned in dark brown material. Ellie and Hettie perched awkwardly on a bulging sofa.
The faintly worn areas in the turkey carpet made Hettie wonder just how many anxious feet had paced across it whilst their owners waited in the room’s sombre silence. Thick net curtains obscured what light could have entered the room, making it seem even more gloomily oppressive.
She reached out and placed her hand in Ellie’s. She wanted this more than she had ever wanted anything in the whole of her life, more than she would ever want anything ever again. She wanted it so much that it physically hurt, she told herself dramatically.
The door opened, making Hettie jump. The parlour maid announced, ‘You’re both to go in now, if you please.’
‘Good luck, my love,’ Ellie whispered to her as they both got up, kissing her lovingly whilst Hettie gripped her hand.
Hettie had never felt so clumsy, nor so awkward. Her face was burning, and her throat had gone so dry she was afraid she would not be able to sing at all.
The maid escorted them to the door of the front parlour and then whispered, ‘Knock on the door and then wait until she says to go in.’
When her step-mother’s knock went unacknowledged, Hettie cast her an anguished look. ‘Perhaps she didn’t hear,’ she began and then stopped as a firm contralto voice from the other side of the door called out commandingly.
‘Come.’
With Ellie pushing her firmly ahead, Hettie stepped in to the room. Here there was no overstuffed sofa but instead a row of uncomfortable looking hard-backed chairs. But it was the piano and, more dramatically, the woman seated at it, that commanded Hettie’s attention.
Mrs May Buchanan was almost the complete opposite of Miss Brown, being tall and stately where Miss Brown was small and thin; and her jet-black hair, unlike Miss Brown’s untidy grey bun, was drawn back into a formidably elegant chignon. Miss Brown’s manner was fussy yet gentle, whilst Hettie could tell, even on this first meeting, that Mrs Buchanan was chillingly distant.
Hettie could feel herself tremble as Mrs Buchanan’s merciless gaze focused sharply on her.
‘Your teacher has some very complimentary things to say about you, Miss Walker. She seems to think that you have a soprano voice of surpassing excellence.’
Hettie looked towards Ellie for reassurance, not sure how she was meant to respond.
‘Do you have the same high opinion of your voice as your teacher, Miss Walker?’
‘I know that I love to sing,’ was all Hettie could find to say. Mrs Buchanan was making her feel very small and unimportant; she was even beginning to wish that she had not put herself forward for her criticism.
‘Very well then. Please stand up.’
Obediently Hettie got to her feet. She felt sick with nervousness, and she just knew that she was going to do everything wrong.
As she sang the opening bars of the song, she could hear the uncertainty affecting her voice and her heart sank with distress and panic. The song was so familiar to her that she knew it by heart, and yet in her agitation she almost missed a note. But then, as always when she got into the song itself, the music began to take her over and she became lost in its enchantment and the role it had cast for her.
As she sang the last few notes she saw the emotional tears in Ellie’s eyes, and her spirits soared upwards in triumph and pleasure. But she was brought quickly back to earth when Mrs Buchanan commented coldly, ‘You were off key in the first bar.’
‘I was nervous.’
‘If you are nervous about singing in front of me then how do you think you will be able to sing in front of an audience of a hundred?’
Hettie did not dare look at her mother. She knew if she did she would burst into tears of shame and disappointment.
THREE
‘You have been gone such an age. What happened?’
‘Poor Hettie was very nervous,’ Hettie heard Ellie answering as Connie ushered them both into her cosy parlour.
‘I was off key in the opening bars,’ Hettie added, watching as Connie’s expression grew grave and sympathetic, and then laughing and saying, ‘But I am to have the job because Mrs Buchanan says that I am the best of all the applicants.’
‘Oh, you terror, letting me think that you hadn’t got it!’ Connie chided her, laughing back.
‘And I am going to board with Mrs Buchanan’s sister, aren’t I, Mam? She lives in the same street and only takes in female lodgers. I will have lessons with Mrs Buchanan every morning for a month and then I shall sing at the Adelphi hotel every afternoon. Except, of course, for Sunday, which will be my day off. Then after that I will have two days together off each month, which means I can go home to Preston.’
‘Well, inbetween times you must come here to us, then. You will enjoy listening to our school choir, and it will be so lovely to have you. Dr Kenton, the school’s music teacher, is very proud of them, and says they are far superior to the Bluecoat School boys.’
Connie’s husband Harry was the headmaster of a private boys’ school and he, Connie and their children lived in the headmaster’s house right next to the school. In addition to her responsibilities as a headmaster’s wife, Connie was also still very involved in the nursery for children whose parents were out at work or who, in some cases, had no parents to care for them at all. She had set up this nursery prior to her marriage to Harry.
‘So, when do you start your new job, Hettie?’
‘Next week, but I shall need to have a new dress first, shan’t I, Mam?’
‘Yes, my love, you will. Mrs Buchanan has told us that Hettie will need a proper tea dress to wear when she sings,’ Ellie explained to her sister.
‘Well, you will be certain to find something here in Liverpool. We shall go out together tomorrow and look.’
‘Connie, I wonder, would you mind taking Hettie to get a dress without me? Only I have already arranged to see Iris tomorrow.’
Hettie stared at her step-mother in consternation. ‘But you must come with me,’ she protested. ‘Please, Mam, I want you to,’ she pleaded desperately. For although she wanted her new life and its independence, inwardly Hettie felt vulnerable and uncertain, and very much in need of Ellie’s love and support. How could she think of putting seeing Iris before something so important as helping her to find the right dress for her new job? Even Connie was frowning at her.
‘Hettie, I am sorry,’ Ellie said, seeing the disappointed look on Hettie’s face. ‘But Iris is only in Liverpool for tomorrow, and it is important that I see her…’
‘But I need you to help me choose my dress.’ Hettie was ready to burst into tears.
After one look at her pale face and tear-filled eyes, Connie attempted to placate her by saying calmly, ‘Of course you are disappointed that your mother can’t go shopping with you, Hettie. But I can come with you and I’m sure between us we shall be able to find the right thing.’
Somehow Hettie managed to swallow back her tears and nod her head, but it just wouldn’t be the same fun without her.
Even worse was to come!
At four o’clock, the whole family, including Connie’s three young children and her husband, all sat down together to eat a traditional high tea as a treat. Afterwards, Hettie entertained the children by playing spillikins with them, and telling them jokes, until it was time for them to go to bed.
‘You’ve made a rod for your own back now, Hettie,’ Connie teased her when she returned to the parlour having tucked her children up in their beds.
‘They are already demanding to know when they will see you again, and I can see that from now on Sunday will definitely be their favourite day of the week.’
Hettie smiled. It was a comfort to know that Connie, Harry and the children were just around the corner. It made the whole move to Liverpool a little less daunting.
‘Connie, I’ve been thinking.’ Ellie broke in to her sister’s conversation. ‘It seems foolish for Hettie to return home to Preston with me, only to have to travel all the way back to Liverpool again within a matter of days. Could she possibly stay here with you until she moves into the lodging house next week?’
‘But Mam, I will need to go home with you to pack my things,’ Hettie protested anxiously. Her pride wouldn’t let her behave like a baby and say that she had just discovered she wasn’t quite ready to leave home so very quickly and that she wanted to say goodbye ‘properly’ to all her favourite things and, more importantly, her favourite people. An uncomfortable, unhappy feeling was lying like cold stone in her chest. For virtually all her life she had taken Ellie’s presence and love for granted. Now she was both hurt and shocked that Ellie should talk about parting with her so easily and casually.
‘It is just as easy for me to pack them for you, Hettie, and have your trunk sent direct to Mrs Foster’s,’ Ellie told her.
‘Of course Hettie is welcome to stay here,’ Connie said, smiling.
But Hettie couldn’t smile. A huge lump of misery was blocking her throat. At first, Mam hadn’t wanted her to leave home at all, but now it seemed as though she couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Hettie had to concentrate very hard to squeeze back the tears threatening to fill her eyes again. The dizzyingly intense feeling of happiness that had filled her when Mrs Buchanan had told her that she had got the job had been replaced by a forlorn sense of loss.
‘Ellie, you aren’t asleep yet, are you?’ Connie whispered, opening Ellie’s bedroom door and stepping inside. She looked questioningly at her sister as she lay in bed, propped up against the pillows. ‘Only it’s been such a busy day we haven’t had time to talk to each other properly.’
Ellie smiled as Connie sat down on the side of her bed, and put down the book she had been reading.
‘Hettie is very disappointed that you aren’t going to be able to go with her to choose her dress,’ Connie began, watching as a small shadow darkened Ellie’s eyes. She sighed. She too, in truth, had been surprised. She knew how much Ellie loved Hettie, the only girl in her family, whom she had brought up as her own from a very young age.
‘I know. I’d love to be able to go with her, Connie, but I have to see Iris.’
The shadow was there again and Connie’s heart missed a beat.
‘Ellie, something’s wrong. I can tell, what is it?’
‘I’m going to have another child.’
Connie frowned. ‘But, Ellie, surely that’s good news?’
Ellie gave her a wan smile. ‘Connie, I’m thirty-five, and my youngest child is ten. Gideon and I wanted there to be more children, but after so long without there being one…’ Ellie paused and looked at her sister. I can’t say any of this to Gideon because he is already worrying enough…because of our mother.’
‘Our mother? But she was older than you and had been warned not to have any more children,’ Connie protested, and then looked anxiously at her. ‘Ellie, tell me you have not been given the same warning?’
‘No, no. Nothing like that. But…This time somehow it feels different – not right in some way. I can’t explain it properly, Connie, but I just feel so worried, and I thought if I could see Iris and talk to her about it…The problem is that she’s been away, and she’s only going to be in Liverpool for a few hours inbetween journeys. I’m to see her at her father’s Rodney Street Chambers. Naturally, I don’t want to say anything to Hettie about my reasons for wanting to see Iris. She would worry and feel that she had to stay at home with me and the last thing I want is for her to have to carry the same burden of guilt our mother’s death left to me.’
‘But Ellie, you are not our mother, and you must not think such dreadful things. There is no reason for you to fear there is anything amiss,’ Connie told her bracingly, causing a small smile to flicker across Ellie’s face. How very typical it was of Connie’s training as a nurse that she should adopt such a stalwart and reassuring manner! ‘You are right, though, to see Iris. She is a wonderful doctor and very highly thought of. I do think, though, that it might be better if you explained to Hettie why you want to see Iris. She’s feeling very hurt.’
‘It isn’t as straightforward as that, Connie. At first when Hettie said that she wanted to apply for this audition I was against it. And I admit that a large part of me would still prefer her to remain at home. I had looked forward to having her at home with us until she marries, to be my friend as well as my daughter. But Gideon is concerned that if we refuse she might…’
‘Run away as I did?’ Connie suggested before shaking her head. ‘Hettie loves you and Gideon, Ellie, and is loved by you – you needn’t worry that she is going to flee the nest and cut her ties.’
‘I know that, and I know too that if she felt I needed her she would stay, but it would be wrong of me to allow her to do that when I know how much her singing means to her. And it is because of that I cannot tell her why I need to see Iris. Please don’t tell her, I beg of you,’ Ellie beseeched her younger sister.
‘Very well, Ellie, if that is what you wish,’ Connie agreed, unwilling to add to her sister’s distress by telling her of her own belief that nothing good could come of keeping something so important a secret from Hettie. With reluctance, Connie agreed she would remain silent.
Alone and unable to sleep in the pretty guest bedroom her new grown-up status had entitled her to occupy, instead of sharing the nursery with Connie’s children like she normally did, Hettie sat up in bed, wrapping her arms around her knees. A tear trickled down her cheek followed by another. She had been so happy hours before but now she was so unhappy, and all because Mam had told her that she wouldn’t be going back to Preston.
Didn’t Mam care about her any more? Didn’t she love her any more? Suddenly Hettie longed to be a little girl once again, able to pad barefoot from her narrow bed in the nursery downstairs to the big bedroom Mam and Dad shared, and then to find her way through the darkness to Mam’s side of the bed where somehow she was always awake and waiting for her, ready to lift her up and tuck her against her side. There, secure in Ellie’s arms and Ellie’s love, Hettie had easily forgotten whatever it was that had woken her and gone contently back to sleep.
Hettie looked hesitantly towards the door, wondering if she should go and find Ellie now. But she was not a little girl any more, was she? It was time to stand on her own two feet.
FOUR
‘We’ll go straight to Bon Marche, I think, Hettie,’ Connie decided vigorously as the three of them sat around the breakfast table. Harry had already left for work, whilst the children had been despatched to the nearby park for some fresh air in the charge of the young orphan girl Connie had taken in who helped her with them.
Hettie forced herself to smile and nod her head, knowing that normally she would have enjoyed the thought of a shopping trip with Connie, and not wanting to be thought rude. But both Connie and Ellie noticed how strained she looked and how her mouth trembled as she tried to smile.
‘We don’t want to lose any time so if you’ve finished your breakfast I think we should make an early start. If we do, we will have time to go into Bon Marche. They have all the very latest fashions in that department store,’ she added importantly. ‘Not that I am suggesting you should have anything from there, Hettie, it would be far too expensive, but there would be no harm in just looking round to get some ideas.’
Obediently Hettie pushed back her chair and stood up.
‘What time are you meeting Iris, Ellie?’ Connie asked her sister.
Ellie put down her teacup and said lightly, ‘Actually, Connie, I’ve changed my mind about that, and decided to come along with you and Hettie instead. Your shopping trip sounds too much fun for me to miss and I know that Iris will understand. I’ll telephone her, though, if I may. She’s staying with her parents, and I was going to see her there.’
The two sisters exchanged silent looks whilst Hettie, oblivious to their exchange, rushed towards her step-mother, her face breaking into a wide smile as she exclaimed, ‘Oh Mam, I’m so happy that you’re going to come with us.’
‘So am I, my love,’ Ellie responded gently. ‘Now go upstairs and make yourself tidy, we don’t want the posh sales ladies in Bon Marche to think we’ve taken you to the wrong department and that you’re a schoolgirl still and not a young lady!’
Humming happily under her breath Hettie almost danced from the room, the sound of her happiness as she sang to herself all the way up the stairs drifting down to Ellie and Connie as they stood together in the parlour.
‘Ellie…’ Connie began, but Ellie shook her head.
‘Connie, I could hear Hettie crying in her sleep last night, just like she used to do when she was little. I forget sometimes just how sensitive she is, one minute up in the heights of happiness, the next in the depths of despair, but always no matter what her mood so very loving. Besides, as you pointed out to me yourself, there is no real reason for me to worry, and I am sure Iris would say as much herself.’
‘Well, if you are sure.’
‘I am,’ Ellie answered her firmly. ‘Now, I’d better go upstairs and make myself tidy as well. But first I’ll telephone Iris.’
‘Oh, how lovely it smells in here,’ Hettie exclaimed as she took a deep breath of Bon Marche’s perfumed air, one arm tucked into her step-mother’s and the other into her aunt’s, her face alight with happy anticipation.
‘All the wealthy ladies of Liverpool come here to buy their clothes,’ Connie told her importantly. ‘Why, one can even buy gowns here that have come all the way from Paris, made by Mr Worth himself.’
‘Connie, don’t put ideas into Hettie’s head, please.’ Ellie laughed. ‘Gideon is a generous husband and father, but even his generosity does not stretch as far as a couture gown. This is a special treat to celebrate Hettie’s new job but we must still be sensible.’
‘Mm. Remember that dress you made for me before you were married, Ellie? It was so very pretty. The fabric was cream with small bunches of cherry-coloured flowers, and you’d trimmed it with cherry-red ribbons.’
In the years when she had had to struggle to support herself and her brothers and sister, Ellie had managed by sewing things for other people, at first by hand and then later with the sewing machine she had bought by selling off locks of her long hair.
‘Ooh, look at that!’ Hettie exclaimed, looking round-eyed at a display of rouges and other cosmetics.
‘You are pretty enough without needing to use any of that, Hettie,’ Ellie warned firmly, determinedly drawing her away.
It took them over an hour to make their way through the exclusive department store as Hettie was constantly distracted and delighted by the luxurious goods on sale. She had never seen clothes such as these. Gowns in rich jewel-coloured delicate fabrics. Silks and satin, and all in the very latest bias-cut style. So very different from the far more sturdy garments in stout, sensible worsted woollens and brightly printed cottons that Hettie was used to.
These fabrics shimmered and danced beneath the chandeliers with every passing movement. Hettie longed to reach out and touch them but did not dare to do so. These were clothes for women who lived a life very different from the one her family led, Hettie acknowledged. These were clothes for rich ‘ladies’ not working class women like themselves. And the styles! Dropped waists, short skirts, huge bowed sashes – dresses for every imaginable occasion.
Under the eagle eyes of the hovering sales assistant, she gazed in awe at the evening gowns and luxurious furs on display, for once lost for words.
‘That would suit you, Hettie,’ Ellie murmured, pointing out to her a red silk tea dress displayed on a mannequin, the fabric overprinted with orange poppies and the hem of the dress fashionably short to display not just the mannequin’s ankles, but also her calves. Hettie reached out and touched the silk gently, and then looked uncertainly up at her step-mother.
‘But you said we would buy my dress from George Henry Lee’s and that we were only coming in here to look,’ she reminded her.
‘I’ve changed my mind.’ Ellie smiled. ‘This dress would be perfect for you, wouldn’t it, Connie?’
Hettie could not believe she was serious. The ravishingly pretty dress was beyond anything she had ever even dared to dream of possessing.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Connie agreed immediately. ‘And the colour would be perfect for Hettie with her dark hair and lovely pale skin.’
Hettie looked from one smiling face to the other. Her da was always teasing her mother that the women of the Pride family were strong and determined to get their own way, and now Hettie could see how right he was.
An assistant was sailing majestically towards them, sniffing out a potential sale. ‘Mam, I think we should go,’ Hettie hissed.
But Ellie ignored her and turned instead towards the assistant, saying firmly, ‘My daughter needs a tea dress. I would like her to try on this one.’ She indicated the red silk.
Immediately the assistant’s smile widened and her voice when she spoke was warm. ‘An excellent choice, if I may say so, madam, especially for your daughter’s colouring. The dress is French, and its designer was apprenticed to Monsieur Worth himself, as I am sure you will already have guessed. And red is very modern this season, although of course not all young ladies can carry it as well as your daughter will. Is it to be for a special occasion?’ she asked.
‘A very special occasion,’ Ellie confirmed, giving Hettie a tender look.
Ten minutes later, standing before her mother and aunt, her cheeks almost as poppy red as the dress, Hettie waited anxiously for their opinion. When neither of them spoke, her heart thudded to the bottom of her chest. As she had looked at herself in the mirror after the assistant had arranged the deceptively simple straight lines of the dress to her satisfaction, and tied the wide sash around Hettie’s slender hips, Hettie had hardly been able to believe that the reflection staring back at her was her own. Were her throat and arms really so slender and white, her wrists so ethereally fragile? And were those shapely calves and fine-boned ankles really hers? Surely even her lips looked a deeper colour than before. But now the silence from both Connie and, more significantly, Ellie made her wonder what she really looked like.
‘Oh, Connie!’
To Hettie’s consternation, Ellie’s eyes had filled with tears.
‘Mam,’ she protested quickly. ‘It’s all right. If you don’t like it I don’t mind. I’m sure we shall find something else.’
‘Not like it? Oh, Hettie, Hettie. Of course I like it.’
‘Then why are you crying?’
Dabbing her eyes with her lace-edged handkerchief, Ellie laughed. ‘I’m crying, my love, because you look so beautiful.’
‘Indeed she does, madam,’ the sales assistant agreed eagerly. ‘And if I may suggest, a nice pair of the new shoes we’ve just had in will set off the dress a treat – silver, with the new heel. Oh, and perhaps just a small bow for her hair?’
‘We’ll just take the dress for now,’ Hettie heard Ellie break into the sales assistant’s suggestions. ‘And we shall think about the shoes. Hettie, my love, go and get changed back into your own clothes.’
Later, with the dress paid for and swathed in layers of tissue paper, the three women left the shop and Connie announced, ‘Well, I don’t know about you two but I am parched.’
They found a small tea shop a short distance away from Bon Marche where Hettie, despite claiming she was far too excited to eat, managed to speedily dispose of several delicate sandwiches, a piece of slab cake and two fancies. Ellie, on the other hand, merely sipped at her tea, smiling at Hettie who thanked her over and over again for her dress.
‘When you look back on this time of your life, Hettie, I want all of your memories to be happy ones.’
‘Oh they will be, Mam. In fact, I am so happy right now I could burst.’
‘That isn’t happiness, Hettie, it’s too much cake!’ Connie teased her, and although Ellie joined in their laughter she had to place her hand against the side of her stomach to quell the discomfort nagging at her.
She was just tired, she assured herself, that was all. Connie had been right to say that she was worrying unnecessarily, and even if she had seen Iris what more could her friend have done than echo Connie’s reassurance? Besides, she wouldn’t have wanted to have missed this special time with Hettie. She had no regrets on that score. No, not even about the shocking expense of Hettie’s dress. For all that she could be wilful and tempestuous at times, Hettie had never been greedy or asked for anything.
When they had finished their tea, she would take Hettie back to Bon Marche and get her those shoes the sales assistant had suggested, Ellie decided, and perhaps she might even be able to buy some pretty little surprises to hide in Hettie’s trunk as well.
To Hettie’s delight, instead of returning to Preston when she had originally planned, Ellie decided she would spend a couple more days in Liverpool. It was arranged that Gideon would drive over to pick her up on Saturday, so that she would have time to pack Hettie’s trunk and have it despatched to her.
‘P’raps now that you are staying longer you will be able to see Iris after all, Ellie,’ Connie suggested as they were clearing the breakfast things one morning.
Ellie dipped her head so that Connie wouldn’t see her face. She didn’t want her sister to guess how much her own forebodings still troubled her, and how much she wished she had been able to see Iris. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of her own fears. Trying to ignore them she said as lightly as she could, ‘No, she will already have left Liverpool by now, but it doesn’t matter. I have been feeling much better.’
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