Far From Home. Anne Bennett

back to the sights. They were over the bridge now, leaving the canals to weave down behind the houses again. Kate said, ‘Now we are coming to Nechell’s, where you will see really squashed-up houses – I’d say not that much bigger than the canal barges.’

      Sally agreed with her. ‘They don’t look real,’ she said. ‘And there are so many of them, all tightly squeezed together.’

      ‘Oh, they’re real all right,’ Kate said grimly. ‘They call them back-to-back houses. And you’ll see plenty more when we go through Aston.’

      ‘Yeah, Kate’s right,’ Susie said. ‘And we’re coming to Aston Railway Station now.’

      Sally looked around her with interest. They passed a large brick building that Kate told her was a brewery and a big green clock that had four faces on it, standing in a little island all on its own; it was surrounded by all manner of shops, very like those at Stockland Green. Susie told her, ‘There are factories too. Small ones tucked in beside the houses.’

      Sally shook her head. ‘It’s all so different from Ireland,’ she said. ‘You must have found it all strange at first, Kate.’

      ‘Oh, I did,’ Kate admitted. ‘And for a time I was really homesick, but it was something I knew I had to get over. But now I’ve made my life here and I wouldn’t ever want to go back to Ireland to live. And look, we’re passing the fire station now and soon we’ll turn into Steelhouse Lane and reach the terminus.’

      ‘Steelhouse Lane is a funny name for a street.’

      ‘Not if the police station is on the street too,’ Kate answered. ‘And opposite is the General Hospital and that’s another hospital that used to be a workhouse.’

      ‘Yes, and people have got long memories,’ Susie said. ‘Mom says there are old people today who still refuse to go in that hospital.’

      And Sally could understand a little of the trepidation people felt when she alighted from the tram and stood before the solid brick building of the General Hospital. It had a great many floors and she imagined all the poor inmates housed in there when it had been in use as a workhouse. ‘Come on,’ Kate said to her sister, catching hold of her arm, ‘there are much more interesting places to look at.’

      Sally tore her eyes away from the hospital and allowed herself to be led up the wide, tree-lined street with tram tracks running up the middle of it that Susie told her was called Colmore Row. They passed an imposing building with arched windows to the front and supported by ornate pillars. ‘Another station,’ Susie said to Sally. ‘That one’s called Snow Hill.’

      ‘And if you look across the road you will see St Philip’s Cathedral,’ Kate said, and Sally looked across and saw the church set in a little oasis of green interspersed with walkways and benches set here and there. ‘It isn’t the Catholic one,’ Kate went on. ‘And I don’t think it’s very big to be a cathedral. I thought it would be much bigger than it is.’

      ‘I would have thought so too,’ Sally said. ‘It’s pretty, though. I bet when the light shines through those stained-glass windows it’s lovely inside.’

      Susie nodded in agreement. ‘We’re going to cross over the churchyard now because we want to show you the shops.’

      The pavements on New Street were crammed with busy shoppers and the road full of traffic, and because the cloud was so low and dense, like on the previous day, many had their headlights on, glimmering through the slight mist. But the shops were magnificent, many of them with more than one floor and so fine and grand that Sally said she was a little nervous. Her anxiety wasn’t helped by the frightening-looking man in uniform standing outside the first shop they came to. ‘What‘s he doing?’ she said quietly as they drew nearer.

      Susie and Kate laughed. ‘He’s a commissionaire,’ Susie told Sally. ‘He stands there to keep the riffraff out.’

      ‘Like us you mean?’ Sally said with a laugh.

      ‘No, not like us at all,’ Susie said in mock indignation, and with a broad grin she pushed open the door with a confident air. Sally, her arm linked in her sister’s, followed her more cautiously, blinking in the shimmering lights that seemed very bright after the dull of the day. Kate smiled at the rapt attention on her sister’s face as they wandered around the store, remembering how she had been similarly awed in her initial forays into the city centre.

      The models were draped in all sorts of creations, fashion able clothes the like of which Sally had never seen, and in materials so sheer or so luxurious that the spectacle rendered her speechless for a moment. She loved the vast array of colours used. She remembered the dullness of the shops in her home town, where material for their clothes was purchased at the draper’s and run up by a dressmaker. ‘Nice, aren’t they?’ Kate said as she saw Sally gently touching a velvet rose-red ball gown.

      ‘Oh, far more than just nice,’ Sally said. ‘And the colours, Kate. Do you remember the way it was done at home: straight up-and-down clothes with no style to them at all?’

      ‘I remember it well,’ Kate said with a grimace. ‘And the colours on offer were invariably black, grey, navy blue or brown. But to be truthful, though we thought it would be fun to show you the store, most of what they sell is too dear for my purse. Susie has a bit more left over at the end of the week than me, don’t you?’ she asked her friend.

      ‘Yeah, because I still live at home,’ Susie said. ‘But I still have an eye for a bargain. I don’t want to throw money away.’

      ‘And the bargains are to be had in the Bull Ring, which is where we are going later,’ Kate said. ‘But for now come and look at the hats,’ and she led the way up a short flight of stairs.

      There were hats galore, of all colours, shapes and sizes, displayed on head stands or on glass shelves. Most were breathtakingly beautiful, decorated with ribbons and bows or the occasional feather and veil. Others were frankly bizarre: artistic constructions that looked ridiculous and even comical.

      Sally smiled at the thought of the stir it would cause if she was to wear any one of those to Mass at home. But still she said to the others, ‘Wouldn’t you love to try some of these on?’ And she spoke in a whisper because it was the kind of place where to whisper seemed appropriate.

      ‘Shouldn’t, if I were you,’ Susie warned. ‘Not with hatchet face looking on.’ Sally followed Susie’s gaze and saw a very haughty woman behind a nearby counter who seemed to be keeping a weather eye on them, and so they wandered back to the main floor. No one paid them any attention there because it was very busy and Sally watched the smart shop assistants standing behind gleaming counters, confidently punching numbers into gigantic silver tills. Sally had seen tills before, but never any so large or magnificent.

      They visited other stores, too: Sally found the most entertaining were those that had no tills at all. There the assistant would write out the bill and put it with the money into a canister. This would be carried on wires crisscrossing the shop until it reached the cashier who would sit in a high glass-sided office. She would issue a receipt and this, together with any change, would be put into the canister and the process reversed.

      After Sally had watched this a number of times, Kate said, ‘If I’d known that this would entertain you so much, I wouldn’t have bothered to take you to town at all. I could have just taken you to the Co-op by the Plaza and you could have watched it all afternoon – they use the same system.’

      ‘Do they?’ Sally said. ‘I think it’s a great way of going on.’

      ‘Maybe it is,’ Kate said with a smile. ‘But I want to pop into C and A’s as we pass Corporation Street on our way to the Bull Ring. Let’s see what you think of an escalator.’

      ‘What’s an escalator?’

      ‘You’ll soon find out,’ Kate said, taking her sister’s arm in a firm grip and leading her into the street.

      ‘They move,’ Sally exclaimed a little later. ‘They’re