A brisk knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. “Yes?” she called.
The door opened to admit a young woman, younger than Evelyn, in a neat grey dress. Her dark hair was short and waved and she was remarkably slender. In her arms she carried bed linen.
“Is it all right if I come in? To make the bed up? I’m Grace.”
Evelyn jumped to her feet, feeling awkward. “Oh yes. That’s fine. I mean, if you want to just leave the sheets, I’m perfectly capable of making my own bed.”
Grace smiled. “You’re a guest here and I’m being paid to work, so I’ll do it.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m Evelyn, by the way.”
“Pleased to meet you. Will you be staying long?” Grace moved towards the bed, removed the pillows and blankets, and started to fold the flat sheet over the mattress. Evelyn stood awkwardly to one side.
“I don’t know, if I’m honest.” Evelyn could be no more specific. She’d not thought to bring up the topic with Lilian and found herself entirely uncertain how long her invitation to stay was valid for.
“Well, it doesn’t matter, only that I’ll need to know to make the fire up in here if you’re not to freeze. And what do you eat for breakfast?”
“I don’t mind at all.” To contemplate such ordinary considerations was a little remarkable on such an extraordinary day.
“Well, there’s always bread—or toast—and butter or marmalade. And I make a pot of porridge most days in winter. Tea or coffee, whichever you want, it’s no trouble. You’ll have to let me know if you want eggs or bacon or anything fancy.”
“Thank you. Toast is just fine.”
“No trouble.” Grace had finished with the sheet and also put the two pillows into their cases. She began work on the top sheet and woollen blankets. Evelyn watched, wondering what it was like to grow up with someone to do such simple tasks on your behalf. She did not really enjoy the experience of being made to watch rather than do the job herself. She was relieved when Grace had finished and headed towards the door.
“Did she show you where the bathroom is?” Grace’s tone was indulgent.
Evelyn wasn’t sure if she was trying to be kind, or patronising her. “No. Would you mind?”
“This way.” Grace led Evelyn out of the bedroom to a closed door at the end of a narrow landing. “It’s this one.” Grace opened the door and Evelyn peered inside, astonished at how comfortable and opulent the bathroom seemed. The walls were all tiled in dark green. There was a large enamelled bathtub, a basin, and a toilet. Although her West Coombe home did have inside running water, the very small bathroom, with its metal tub, was a purely functional space which was also the area in which they washed clothes, and their lavatory was in an outbuilding.
“This is just for this floor of course, there’s one upstairs as well. Just as well, since Lilian can be some time, once she decides she’s getting ready for an evening out.”
“So this is just for me?”
“Well, James has his room over there”—Grace pointed to the furthest door from Evelyn’s room—“so he uses this one as well. But he’s out most of the day, working, so it’s mostly yours.”
“Well, thank you.” Evelyn did not feel inclined to express her impressions of the bathroom to Grace, who already seemed to have judged her naive and perhaps a little stupid.
“If you need me, ring the bell or come and find me. I’m going to put some supper on so there’s something to come back to later.”
“Of course, thank you.”
Grace left Evelyn standing on the landing as she went back down the stairs. Evelyn retreated quickly into the room, now looking more welcoming with the bed fully made up. She closed the door and looked around. The room smelled of lavender, and Evelyn wondered if there were sachets in the drawers.
In an attempt to feel more at one with her surroundings, Evelyn reached for her suitcase, laid it on the bed, and opened the lid. She lifted out the first garment, a dark green woollen cardigan, and held it to her face. The smell of home surrounded her. She wanted nothing more than to sit with Edward, hold his hand, then retire to her own bed, her place of safety, and sleep. Emotion welling, she sank onto the bed, her face still buried in the cardigan. For the first time since she had begun this adventure, she cried, from loneliness and fear and with the realisation that, whatever happened, she could not go back.
*
A loud banging jolted Evelyn out of the restless sleep she had fallen into. Her eyes stung with the tears she had still been crying when sleep had overtaken her. Her face felt flushed and her mouth dry. Another bang. On the door.
Hurriedly, Evelyn climbed from the bed, quickly running her hands over her hair in an attempt to look decent. There was no time to check her eyes for signs of her tears.
“Evie?” Lilian’s voice, slightly impatient, called from outside.
“Yes? I’m coming.” Evelyn opened the door. Lilian entered immediately, brushing past Evelyn and into the centre of the room.
“I was hoping you’d help me with the fastenings of this.” Lilian gestured at her dress. She hardly needed to draw Evelyn’s attention to it, for Evelyn was already staring. Lilian’s dress was a vivid salmon pink, the tone of which had also seemed to inspire the fish-scale pattern which covered the bodice in silver thread and sparkling stones. The waist sat low on Lilian’s rather broad hips and the skirts fell in stripes of the same pink and a lighter-toned fabric. The stripes were defined with more silver thread and embroidered patterns. The sheer fabric reached only
