Evelyn felt a little brighter at the idea of not walking and entrusting the route to a driver. “I can afford it. Thank you. Can you tell me how I get a cab?”
“Suppose they don’t have much of that kind of thing in Devon, eh?”
“Not really.”
“I’ll get one for you. Wait there.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“Not a problem, miss.”
Evelyn watched the man walk over to an area near the station, where a few similar motor cars were parked, and lean into the cab of the one at the front of the row. Although she was used to the sight of cars travelling through West Coombe, she’d only travelled in one once before. The sight of these cars all in a row was something novel. The cars matched each other exactly. Their wheels were white, the shiny body of the car black. The number plates were above the screened-in driver. Next to him was a wide step, which a passenger had to climb before turning to their right to open the door and enter the passenger compartment. No more than two people would fit in the back of such a car.
The man was walking back towards her with a friendly smile. “That Jixi cab will take you, miss. He knows where you want to go. Just climb in. Like I said, it’s only ten minutes, if that, from here.”
“Thank you so much.” Evelyn’s gratitude was intense. She could have probably worked out how to hire a taxi, but to have been saved the trouble and to have met with a friendly, helpful person as her first interaction in London helped convince her that this was indeed the right path. Soon she would be at her destination and, hopefully, not entirely alone. “Can I give you something for your trouble?”
“It’s no trouble, miss, a smile is enough. What’s your name?”
“Evelyn Hopkins,” she said, smiling easily at his tone.
“I’m Sam Williams. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Evelyn shook it, still smiling. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Hopkins. I hope you enjoy your stay in London. If you’re near Paddington again, keep an eye out for me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Williams. And I will do.” Evelyn gave him a final smile and headed towards the waiting cab, almost sorry to have to leave him behind. She turned and realised he was watching her go, so she waved a hand. He waved in return, then strolled back towards the station building. Evelyn wondered if he worked on the railways.
“Afternoon, miss. Hays Mews, yes?”
“Yes, please.” Evelyn climbed awkwardly into the back of the cab. The driver started the engine, the vibration travelling through Evelyn’s body. It was an odd sensation, being in a motor car. The car started moving and Evelyn watched the pavement slide by outside the window. Before long she saw railings with a green expanse behind them. It had to be Hyde Park! The simple fact she was divided only by a thin piece of glass from such a famous location made her stare, as though she’d never seen a park before.
All too soon, the cab turned from the broad road at the perimeter of the park into a narrower road, with tall buildings on both sides. Cream stone gave way to red brick; there were steps and doorways and every style of construction from the last century. Evelyn thought there were probably more buildings on this one small street than in the whole of West Coombe.
The further the cab took her, the grander the buildings seemed. At a recently built Georgian-style mansion they turned, only to be surrounded by taller, red-brick, authentically Georgian buildings. They drove past doorway after doorway. At first, Evelyn tried to imagine what was behind each door, who lived in such a place. But after a minute or two, she found it dizzying to watch the street and turned her attention to the way ahead, peering past the driver and out of the windscreen.
Eventually, the driver slowed the cab as they turned into a narrower street. The buildings were still several storeys high but appeared narrower, not quite as spectacular. They were still graceful, with a type of elegance Evelyn had never before seen. But this looked like a street where people could actually live, rather than the stage-set grandeur of the previous thoroughfares.
A moment later, the cab stopped and the driver turned. “Here you are then, miss. Hays Mews. Number 15a wasn’t it? That’s the yellow brick one there, with the steps up to the front door.”
“Thank you.” Evelyn peered in the direction he pointed, nervous again now she was actually here.
“Welcome, miss.”
Evelyn paid the driver with some of Edward’s money she’d kept out of the suitcase in case of need. She watched the cab drive away and found herself alone again. A few steps along the road and she was outside the door of 15a. She paused, looking at the polished brass numbers on the gloss-black painted door. Then she tilted her head to look up at the building. Neat sash windows formed two rows over four storeys. There was an upper floor with smaller windows, just below the roof. The building was beige-yellow bricks except for cream-coloured columns on the facade at street level and a Greek-style portico over the front door. Three steps led to the door, and next to the door, a button for the bell.
Evelyn contemplated
