Читать книгу The Secret Orphan - Glynis Peters - Страница 12

Despite the tease of the sun, Elenor’s thin coat barely fought off the chilly breeze. It felt like late September, and had she been walking alone she would have moved faster to warm her limbs.

Her aunt leaned heavily on her stick and took her time over each step, stopping at intervals to catch her breath. Elenor’s legs ached with taking small narrow strides. She was also impatient for another reason. She was keen to see the town properly; she’d only rushed through a few streets from the station to her aunt’s the previous day. She couldn’t remember ever going into town with her parents.

Just the thought of time to browse the shops and purchase new clothes sent her mind into a spin.

One part of Elenor knew she made her aunt ashamed with her appearance, but rather than hide her niece away, she chose to help, to notice and do something about the situation.

Did her aunt understand her excitement? If she did she did not show it. She walked in silence hunched over her walking stick. It took a while for Elenor to realise the further they walked, the weaker her aunt became, and guilt overcame her for wishing the old lady would walk faster. In her haste to buy clothes for herself she’d forgotten her aunt was unwell; after all, that was the reason Elenor was called away from the farm in the first place.

‘We still have some way to go and I fear you are tired,’ Elenor said, adding a sympathetic tone to her voice. ‘Do you need a taxi-cab?’

‘Pah. Lazy legs. It is not much farther. The young today, you have no stamina.’

With a flick of her walking stick Maude Matthews took a few more paces away from her bemused niece before stopping.

‘Look around you. Get your bearings. Now I have you to run errands, my time can be best spent elsewhere.’

Elenor gave a quick glance around and by the time she had turned back to speak to her aunt, the woman had walked away and headed for the end of the road.

On the other side of the road they headed for a tall redbrick building amongst a row of grey shops and canopied stalls. A brass plaque attached to the outer wall stated it was the office of N. M. Andrews: LLB.

‘I have papers to sign. I am tired and therefore will ask Mr Andrews to assist with my transport home. Goodness knows his fee is great enough. Take this letter to Owen’s department store over there.’ Maude pointed to the corner of the opposite street. ‘Ask for Mrs Green and she will help you. No fripperies. Sensible clothing. You understand?’

Elenor took the letter and clutched it tight against the rising wind. It was too precious to lose.

‘Thank you, Aunt Maude. I am truly grateful, I …’

Her aunt tapped her walking stick with impatience and peered at her through her tortoiseshell spectacles.

‘Don’t keep me standing in the cold. I am doing this for me, not you. I cannot be seen with you in public in that outfit for too long. It is bad enough you sound like a country farmer without looking the part. Even in the Depression people were better dressed. Return home as soon as you have finished. No dallying and daydreaming.’

Elenor gave a weak smile.

‘Thank you, Aunt Maude.’

She hovered, watching her aunt enter the building, and as soon as the door closed Elenor moved to the kerb. Cars milled about and when all was clear she headed for the large department store and as Elenor approached, she could feel the excitement mounting.

With clothes to tempt, the store windows held Elenor’s attention for several minutes. A gown of emerald green silk flowing to the floor begged to be purchased as did the contrasting long cream gloves with mother-of-pearl buttons. Only the very rich would be able to afford such a garment, especially during the present economic downturn. Elenor watched people, mainly women, manoeuvre their way through the rotating front doors. She had never seen doors like it and noted the art to entering and leaving at just the right time.

You can do it, you can do it.

She chanted the words in her head and stepped to the entrance. Just as she was about to push the door open, it swung past her and she jumped backwards. Aware it was not the pavement she had stepped on, she turned slowly and faced the buttons of a blue serge uniform.

‘Begging your pardon, ma’am.’

The voice had an unfamiliar accent and Elenor looked up into the face of a mature man with a large moustache which lifted as he smiled.

‘I’m afraid it was my fault, sir. I do hope I’ve not hurt your foot.’

The words rushed from Elenor’s mouth. She was so embarrassed and uncomfortable with the situation.

With a loud laugh, the man lifted his foot and wiggled it from the ankle.

‘No harm done. There is nothing of you to have put any pressure on these boots.’

Elenor smiled back, looked down at his large black service boots, then back up to his face – still smiling down at her.

‘It was the door you see. I’ve never, I mean, I don’t …’

‘Like stepping into the lion’s mouth these things. If you don’t get it right the first time, you could be going around and around until the store closes.’

Elenor burst out laughing. Fascinated by the soft accent, she wanted to listen to the man for longer but was aware she had already held him up from entering the store.

‘Well, after you sir. I won’t detain you any longer.’

She went to walk away.

‘But weren’t you going inside miss? Or did you walk out backwards and that’s how we came to meet.’

A twinkle in his eye made Elenor like the uniformed man even more, and she felt her face flush at her foolish behaviour. Her aunt was right, she was a country bumpkin.

She shook her head.

‘I think it safer I stay out of the store. If I have caused this much havoc just trying to get inside, who knows what will happen when I get close to a counter or worse, one of those elegantly dressed statues.’

His laughter rang louder than before and the man bent his hands to his knees.

‘Miss, it has been a long day and you are the fresh air I needed. The statue if I might be so bold, is known as a mannequin in my country, and a young woman so full of grace such as yourself could not possibly cause havoc anywhere.’

He held out his hand to shake hers and she was grateful her gloves hid her calloused hands.

‘Squadron Leader, Samuel Fleming, of North Vancouver, Canada. Pleased to meet you.’

She held out her hand and took his.

‘Elenor Cardew, Miss, of Summercourt, Cornwall. Pleased to meet you.’

‘Cornwall? That’s a fair way from Coventry. I had the pleasure of visiting an air force base for NCO pilot training only last year. Pretty place.’

Elenor nodded with such enthusiasm she felt the muscles in her neck stretch. She had no idea what NCO stood for, but she was not going to set herself up for more embarrassment by asking.

‘It’s beautiful. My family has a farm there, Tre Lodhen, but I am here for a while to care for my aunt. Talking of whom, I will catch the devil’s tail if I don’t carry out her wishes. I must get inside and hand this letter over to a Mrs Green.’

The man put his hand to the rotating door.

‘Now we have been introduced, I think it is safe for us to travel onto the other side together. After you.’

When they entered the vast building, they were greeted by the smell of beautiful fragrances and leather. Elenor took a step to one side; it was everything she’d imagined.

‘Well, this is where I leave you. I must hunt down a small token to take back to my wife. I hope you complete your mission with Mrs Green in good time. Good day.’

When he saluted her Elenor felt like a princess.

‘Thank you, sir.’ She gave a giggle. ‘Thank you for helping me, I no longer fear the exit journey.’

She watched as he walked away, tall, upright and confident. A posture to mimic if she was to get through the store. She had already noticed the side glances from customers and staff alike.

With a fake air of confidence Elenor approached a member of staff and held out the envelope.

‘Excuse me, I need to hand this to Mrs Green?’

The member of staff looked her up and down and held out a gloved hand.

‘I’ll take it to her. Thank you.’

Putting her hand back down beside her hip, Elenor straightened her back.

‘I’m afraid it is for the attention of Mrs Green only. It’s from Mrs Matthews, Stephenson Road.’

With an impatient sigh the sales woman pointed to a stern looking female on the other side of the shop and walked away.