Fallen Grace - Mary Hooper [87]
‘Then of course you must have some time,’ James said, and he bade the driver stop at the top of Regent Street – for he said that was where the most exclusive and fashionable ladies’ shops were – and promised to call on Grace and Lily later, at the hotel, and bring them details of some more permanent places where they could stay.
Grace went into the first shoe shop she found, where she was faced with yet more imponderables. She couldn’t remember ever having a brand new pair of shoes before, so found herself entirely dazzled by the type, quality and variety on offer. Joyfully taking up each new pair she was shown, she ended with seven pairs standing on the counter before her, all in different coloured leathers, and was about to pay for them when it suddenly came upon her that she was being ridiculous. She didn’t know how much money they had yet and if she spent it stupidly they might find themselves poor again. She must be careful! Apologising to the shop worker, she bought just two pairs of shoes in identical plain black (but with shiny leather bows on, for she didn’t want them to look like mourning wear) and had them wrapped.
x
She began to walk towards Sydney Street – hurrying now, to get the next part of the day over with as quickly as possible – and coming to Tamarind Cottage, found it a neat terraced house with a small garden in the front. The door was painted red and it had a well-polished brass lion’s-head door knocker.
Grace knocked, not quite sure how she felt about meeting Mrs Smith again. She rather hoped the lady would be out – but then this would only delay something which seemed to be inevitable. Besides, facing Mrs Smith now, she told herself, might be good practice for facing the Unwins in court.
There was no sound from inside the house and Grace, after waiting perhaps a minute, turned to go, giving the lion knocker one last half-hearted tap before she did. As she quickened her step to go out of the front gate, however, the door opened and, to the intense surprise of both young ladies, Grace found herself facing Miss Violet, the assistant from the Unwin Mourning Emporium.
‘Miss Violet!’
‘Miss Grace!’
The two girls smiled at each other questioningly, and Grace spoke first. ‘Surely it’s trading hours. Why aren’t you at the store?’
‘It’s closed for three days as a mark of respect,’ Violet said. ‘Mr Unwin is . . .’
Grace nodded swiftly. ‘Yes, I heard.’
Violet looked at her quizzically. ‘And you . . . ?’
Grace cleared her throat nervously. ‘I came here to speak to a Mrs Smith.’
Violet nodded, but a sadness crossed her face. ‘Mrs Smith is the name my mother used sometimes.’
Grace hesitated. ‘Is your mother dead?’ she asked gently, and then noticed the black band around the girl’s upper arm.
Violet nodded again. ‘A week back. The funeral was yesterday; just a small one.’
‘Not an Unwin?’
‘Certainly not an Unwin!’ Violet said spiritedly. ‘I might work there but I don’t espouse their ways. But I’m very curious as to why you’ve come to see my mother.’
Grace made several false starts trying to explain, stopping and hesitating, and in between these attempts, Violet ushered her through to a small parlour and bade her sit down and take some tea.
‘I understand your mother very much wanted to see me,’ Grace said eventually. ‘She knew me as Mary.’
Violet, knowing well what this meant, looked at her in surprise. ‘You were one of her Marys?’
Grace nodded and blushed. ‘I was. And I believe you and your mother went to my old landlady, Mrs Macready, in order to discover my whereabouts.’
Violet’s eyes widened still further at the mention of the landlady’s name. ‘You are that Mary! So you met my mother last June? At Berkeley House?’
‘That’s right.’ Grace nodded. ‘But Mrs Macready didn’t know the circumstances and, because she suspected some sort of swindle, didn’t tell your mother where to find me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve just seen Mrs Macready again, however, and she was very eager that I find your mother.