Fallen Grace - Mary Hooper [59]
‘And if we are, then should Baby be in black, too?’ asked Mr Robinson. ‘We have a christening gown which has been handed down from my great-grandmother, but wonder if it would be quite correct to let him wear it.’
‘Well, sir and madam, for these matters I suggest you put yourselves in the hands of our baby department,’ said Miss Violet. ‘They know the correct protocol and will advise you.’
‘And where would I find this department?’
‘Miss Grace will escort you,’ said Miss Violet, and Grace led the way through the crowds to the correct department, returning smile for smile with the baby along the way.
x
Chapter Twenty-One
‘I’m sorry, dearie, but she’s not here.’
Grace, standing on the back doorstep of the Unwins’ Kensington home, stared at Mrs Beaman, not understanding what she meant. ‘You mean, my sister has gone on an errand somewhere?’
‘No. I mean she’s not here. She’s gawn. Scarpered!’
‘The Unwins have dismissed her?’
‘No.’ The cook spoke as if to an imbecile. ‘No, I tell you she’s gawn. Run off.’
Grace swallowed and spoke hoarsely. ‘When was this?’
‘Oh, must be a good few days now. A week, maybe.’
‘But where has she gone to?’
‘Where? Who knows? She hasn’t sent no calling card!’ said Mrs Beaman.
‘But she doesn’t know anyone! Where would she go?’
‘Gawd only knows!’
‘But why? Please tell me what you know . . . I can’t imagine why she would run off. Were the Unwins unkind to her?’
Mrs Beaman looked a little uneasy. ‘Unkind? Not they! Treated her proper good, they did.’
‘Then may I speak with the other servants – with Lizzie and Blossom? Perhaps they have some idea of where she might have –’
‘We’ve got new servants here now,’ the cook interrupted. ‘A clean sweep of ’em, the mistress wanted. We’ve got Ethel and Maud and Charity. They don’t know Lily; they were hardly here two minutes before she took off.’
Grace was silent for a moment. ‘Mrs Beaman, have you any idea at all of where she may have gone? Did she say she was missing me? Might she have just gone off to find me?’ As Grace spoke, she visualised her sister going to Edgware Road only to find that she was working in the Oxford Street store, and then not being brave enough to come through the mighty glass doors on her own.
The cook shook her head. ‘I believe they did think she might have run off with one of the servant lads in the big house up yonder.’
‘Which big house?’
Mrs Beaman waved in the general direction of the street, uncomfortable with Mr Unwin’s request to put about this story. ‘Don’t ask me. That’s just what I heard. Mrs Unwin said she caught her several times hanging out the back window talking to a groom.’
Grace felt tears start in her eyes. ‘But why did no one say? Why didn’t anyone tell me that she’d gone?’
‘I suppose they didn’t want to worry you,’ Mrs Beaman said, beginning to shut the door. ‘What with all the grief around at the moment, no one wanted to disturb you any further.’
‘But she’s my sister. I can’t lose her. She’s the only relative I have!’
‘If I see her, I’ll tell her to get in touch’ were Mrs Beaman’s parting words.
Grace’s heartfelt plea had touched her deeply, though, and when the door was closed, she stood there for some moments composing herself before she carried on with her household duties.
It was the day of Prince Albert’s funeral and a good proportion of the British Isles had come to a complete halt. Shop owners had been hoping that general trade, always slow in December and almost at a standstill since the death of the Prince, might have improved because of the festive season, but it seemed that Christmas had been cancelled that year and no one was inclined to be merry. In London, and in Windsor especially – where the funeral service was to be held in St George’s Chapel – there was an aspect of the most profound gloom, with