Glynis Peters - The Secret Orphan

‘Good morning Elenor, I heard you come down. Many happy returns of the day from George, Rose and myself. Your aunt apologises, she has a severe headache today and asked me to give you this with her birthday greetings.’ Victoria pulled an envelope from her apron pocket.

‘Thank you, Victoria. Please, send my best wishes to my aunt, I won’t disturb her. I have plans to take a walk and will borrow a coin from the dish.’

Elenor opened the envelope and stared down at its contents. A silver shilling and a note for Mrs Green to allow Elenor to select toiletry items, a gift of Elenor’s choosing and a small trinket from her aunt to be chosen by Mrs Green in her absence.

She put her hands to her mouth to smother the squeal of joy.

‘How kind of her,’ she said, as tears of happiness filled her eyes. ‘It is my first gift on my birthday since my mother died. It has been years since anyone thought of me in this way. To think, I once feared my aunt, yet she is the most generous person I know.’

Although the air was damp, Elenor didn’t mind. She relished the idea of taking time looking at beautiful things inside the store once again and pondered over the cost of a small clutch bag.

Once in town she stopped outside the window of the department store. It housed a new outfit, a mannequin sporting a red evening gown. All thoughts of a clutch bag went from her mind as Elenor stared up at the pretty outfit.

Inside the store the mingled aromatic fragrances reminded her she was to purchase toiletries, and she sought out Mrs Green to give her the message from her aunt.

She found the woman at her station, keeping a watchful eye on the shop floor like a mother hen watching her chicks.

‘Is everyone behaving, Mrs Green?’

The older woman turned and took a step backwards. A smile lit up her face.

‘Miss Cardew. How lovely to see you again. You do look elegant. I take it your aunt approved?’

‘Thank you, Mrs Green. Wholeheartedly, I am pleased to say. She has written to you.’

Mrs Green read the letter and gave Elenor another wide smile.

‘Many happy returns. What fun you will have choosing your gift. Do you have anything in mind?’

‘The dress in the window caught my eye, but I am in need of a small bag, one to compliment my hat and gloves.’

‘Sally is free to assist you. Ah, here she comes now.’

‘Miss Cardew, I didn’t recognise you at first. How are you?’

Elenor gave Sally a smile.

‘I am another year older than when we last met, Sally. Today is my birthday and my aunt has been most generous. Toiletries and a new bag are on my list.’

She removed her gloves.

‘And look Mrs Green, your advice about buying the lavender cream has helped them already. They are improving each day. If ever I milk a cow again it will be with softer hands, that’s for certain.’

Both Sally and Mrs Green laughed their approval.

Sally guided Elenor to the toiletry and cosmetic area.

Perfumes wafted across the shop floor, and ladies sprayed and inhaled in gay abandon.

‘What items were you considering, Miss Cardew?’ Sally picked up a talcum powder pot to show Elenor.

‘Yes, it is the same as my cream. Oh, and soap to match, wonderful.’

They ventured through to the handbag section and the smell of leather added to the luxurious surroundings.

‘These are lovely, Miss Cardew, and look far more expensive than they are,’ she picked up a green leather with an embossed image of a flower on the flap. ‘This one would complement your hat and is proving to be rather popular.’

Returning to Mrs Green with her packages, Elenor was handed a wrapped gift.

‘This is the item from your aunt. Please enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Cardew.’

With her head held high, Elenor walked out of the shop with her gifts nestling in their bags. The mist had lifted. She walked a few steps and came to a newsagent’s set back between a haberdashery and grocer’s. The lure of a fashion magazine to enjoy that evening was a strong one. She spotted a women’s magazine for two pennies. Its price suited Elenor, and she stepped inside to purchase a copy. She unclasped her bag and took out the shilling coin and handed it over to the newsagent. Unsure whether she would have enough to sit inside the small tea rooms, she chose to walk home and enjoy a cup of tea there instead.

A familiar figure ahead caused Elenor to change her mind. George crossed the road and was heading in her direction. Elenor couldn’t determine if he’d seen her or not, but she was not prepared to wait around and find out. With a sharp turn away from the direction of home, she walked back towards the store and past its front door. A suitable window offering a clear reflective view showed George looking into the main window of a taxidermist. She entered a side lane knowing it linked up with the main road she needed to cross and if she hurried she would make it unseen. To have George as a companion in town would ruin all the pleasures she had savoured for her birthday. He was a memory she had no desire to make.

Hereford Street was busy and Elenor moved amongst the people to keep herself hidden from view. When she came to a shop selling tempting treats she stopped, glanced behind her and noticed George turning into the end of the road. Elenor knew for definite he was following her. She rushed across the road and headed towards the Geisha Café on the corner. Upon arrival she made no effort to turn around and, giving herself no time to make up her mind whether to enter or not, she stepped inside.

Chatter and chinking teacups echoed around the pleasant room. It was large with tables dressed with delicate white cloths, but panic set in when the waitress looked her way and Elenor turned, pulled the door open to leave and walked straight into the body of another trying to enter.

‘Oooph’

‘My apologies. I am so sorry.’

Her rushed words were muffled into the chest of a male. She could smell tobacco and the soap George Sherbourne used. She pulled back in horror. Her efforts of shaking him off had failed.

‘Miss Cardew?’

A male voice with a distinct accent spoke but it was not the person she’d winded in the doorway. Composing herself, Elenor tried to muster up a smidgen of dignity and spent a moment readjusting her hat. It was Samuel Fleming, the Canadian whose foot she’d stepped on. Dismay hit her. Although he wasn’t the victim of her unintended assault, he’d witnessed another of her clumsy acts.

‘Mr Fleming. How pleasant to see you again. Allow me to introdu …’

The man she thought was George Sherbourne was most definitely not. The only thing he had in common with George was the tobacco aroma. Dark hair, neatly clipped, trimmed a handsome face, dark eyes melted into hers. She admired his tanned skin and wide shoulders, the complete opposite to George. She prayed her mouth had not really drooped open with pleasant surprise.

‘Ma’am, it’s a pleasure.’

His voice! Smooth, heart-melting and deep, and with the same soft twang as his companion.

‘Allow me to introduce my grandson, Jackson St John. He’s here to train pilots. Miss Cardew is the young lady I mentioned when we sought out your mother’s gift earlier in the day.’

‘My pleasure, Miss Cardew.’

Jackson St John held out his hand and, with no hesitation, Elenor clutched hold.

‘I am pleased to meet you and I do apologise for my clumsiness. My friend was not inside, and I rushed out without looking.’

She hoped her face didn’t give away her small white lie.

‘We are about to enjoy a cup of English tea. Would you care to join us, Miss Cardew? Or would you prefer to wait for your friend?’

Elenor looked around. She saw no sign of George and the draw of sitting down for afternoon tea on her birthday still held. She made a mental note of the ten pennies sitting in her new bag and again begged the question, would she have enough money? It dawned on her she didn’t know the price of sitting at a pretty table, or what the rules were of sitting with strange men. Although, to be fair, Samuel Fleming was someone she had met before, and he was a respectable uniformed man.