Breakfast in the Grainger household was an informal affair, eaten in the kitchen rather than the dining room. Grace had set out the breakfast things but she did not wait at the table. Her involvement stretched to nothing further than setting the kettle on the range to boil. She then left the room, ostensibly to clean the sitting room and set a fire in the hearth, but Evelyn was fairly sure she heard the servant make her way upstairs.
The kitchen, where she’d found James and Lilian when she ventured downstairs just before eight o’clock, was at the back of the house. A high-ceilinged room with white walls and a very large range at one end, it had tall windows to let in the daylight. The table was large and solid, a rectangle around which at least eight people could dine. There was no cloth, but lace-edged mats beneath each setting. It was a functional, comfortable room and Evelyn instantly felt at home there.
“I hope you don’t mind, darling,” Lilian said, after wishing Evelyn good morning. Lilian was once again in her colourful housecoat, her hair brushed but still a little dishevelled from sleep. “We don’t like to be formal in the dining room—it feels so unnecessary for breakfast and it’s so much extra work for Grace. Mater says we eat like servants, but I don’t really see why there’s a problem.”
“Oh no, it’s not a problem at all.” Evelyn smiled, as James stood to pull out a chair from the table for her. He was already dressed in dark trousers and a crimson bow tie for work, though still in shirtsleeves. “Thank you.” She settled herself in the chair. “Even this is awfully different to what I’m used to at home, you see. We always eat our breakfast around the kitchen table.” Her mind flew to West Coombe, the family beginning a second day without her.
Lilian showed no sign of having noticed the shadow of sadness across Evelyn’s face. “I realise we still haven’t properly talked, Evie. I mean, about where you’re from and what your life was like, and what you’re going to do here in London.” Lilian sounded full of curiosity. “And, as luck would have it, I don’t have anywhere to go today at all. So, what say we cosy up in the sitting room with tea and biccies and have a good chinwag?”
Evelyn, who had been rather hoping to see a little of London, was at once flattered by Lilian’s interest and disappointed. However, she could hardly deny Lilian, upon whose hospitality she was dependent. “Well, I don’t exactly have other plans.” She shrugged and looked at the breakfast on offer.
“Do help yourself to breakfast, you’ll starve if you wait for Lilian to invite you.” James gestured at the table. “We tend to keep it simple. There’s porridge on the range and bread for toast, butter and marmalade. Oh, and the remnants of a jar of damson jam I brought from Cook when I last visited home. She makes the best jam, takes me back to my boyhood in an instant!” James grinned. Evelyn reflected how he seemed much more at ease and confident in his home, in this simple kitchen, than he had in the Yellow Orchid. She found this warmed her to him a little more.
“I’m happy with just bread and jam actually, thank you. If I might try the damson?”
“Of course. Here.” James passed a small bowl of jam. She reached for a slice of bread from the board in the centre of the table. Lilian had just done the same herself, although she had opened the range and was holding the bread close to the flames on a toasting fork. Evelyn buttered her bread. “And another thing, Evelyn, don’t let my dear sister bully you. If you want to go out and do some sightseeing today rather than satisfying her endless curiosity, then it’s your choice. You don’t have to do what we want, just because you’re staying here.”
“Oh, James, how dare you? I’m no bully! It’s Evie’s first day here. She needs time to settle before we start gallivanting, surely.” Lilian looked at Evelyn with raised eyebrows.
“Well…I do want to see London, of course.” Evelyn looked away from Lilian’s expectant gaze. “But I want to get to know you too, and it’s lovely that you’re so interested in me.”
“There, you see, James!” Lilian turned back to the table with her toast, triumphant.
“I see nothing, Lilian. The girl just said she’d like to see London.”
“And spend time with me.” Lilian buttered her toast with energy.
Evelyn looked from Lilian to James, unsure what to say. She was beginning to understand they would bicker about anything and it did not really matter how she responded. “I’m happy to go along with whatever plans either of you makes,” she said in the end. “I do want to discuss the practicalities of my being here though. I have enough to pay you rent for the room.”
“Nonsense! You’re our guest, Evie.” Lilian was dismissive.
James looked more thoughtful. “Lilian’s right, of course,” he said. “You are our guest and we don’t need a contribution. I suppose it really depends on how long you’ll be staying. We don’t need anything from you, but if you plan to stay in London, you might want to think about lodgings of your own, or even renting part of this place.”
Evelyn was grateful for James’s pragmatism but bewildered when she attempted to see a way forward. All she knew was that she wanted to be in London; she wanted to see what this world would offer her. “I’m very grateful for your generosity in letting me stay. I honestly can’t tell you my plans. Perhaps, Lilian, you can help me work them out today.”
“Of course I can. By the time James is home from work, we’ll have all kinds of things to tell him, I’m sure. And if you want to see London, we can always go out for a stroll, maybe catch
