The Secret Orphan. Glynis Peters

But …’ she whispered.

      ‘Fetch me all I need, Sally. And this is to go onto Mrs Matthews’ account. Her niece is to be assisted by you personally. Miss Cardew, you are happy to have Sally help you?’

      ‘Yes, Mrs Green. And thank you, Sally.’

      The tall girl gave Elenor a smile.

      ‘It will be my pleasure Miss Cardew.’

      Never had Elenor felt so grand. This time she made no attempt to ask to be addressed by her first name. Miss Cardew was going to relish the attention bestowed upon her.

      For over an hour, Sally rushed backwards and forwards with outfits. A bemused Elenor could not believe trying on clothes could be so tiring. At first, she was embarrassed by her own attire but soon learnt that Sally was not there to judge. Her professional behaviour was that of an actress on the stage. She must have been horrified by what Elenor hid beneath her ugly frock, but showed no sign of shock, she simply asked if they were to be placed in a bag or sent to the basement for removal. Never one for waste, Elenor was torn. She hesitated when Sally presented the question. In true form, Sally came to her rescue.

      ‘I’ll wrap and bag them for you Miss Cardew, and that way you can decide what to do when you are home.’

      ‘Thank you, Sally.’ Elenor touched her arm. ‘I know it seems odd to want to keep clothes fit for the scrap bag, but they … they were my mother’s. They are all I have left of her.’

      ‘I understand. Maybe you could create something from them as a keepsake. A parcel home it is then, miss.’

      She gave a wan smile. ‘I bet oddball country bumpkins are a one of a kind in your store – in Coventry.’

      Sally waggled her finger at Elenor.

      ‘Never call yourself that again. I must admit though, your accent amuses me, where are you from Miss Cardew?’

      ‘Cornwall. Your accent amuses me too. I’m a farmer’s daughter, hence the rough hands and unkempt clothing.’

      As she folded the clothes in readiness to pack, Sally started to hum a song.

      ‘I know that one! It’s your name! Sally. I think it should be renamed Elenor of the Alley.’

      More laughter followed.

      ‘Is everything all right in there, Miss Cardew?’

      Mrs Green called through the curtain.

      ‘Come in, I’m ready.’

      Approving and advising, Mrs Green made a note of the selected purchases. Elenor stroked the velvet trim of her new Sunday best outfit, reluctant to see it removed for packing.

      ‘I think I will wear the navy skirt with the jumper, stockings and these shoes.’

      Elenor lifted a smart black lace up shoe with small thick heel from a box.

      Mrs Green gave her a smile.

      ‘A sensible choice both in outfit and shoe. I like the wine colour of the other skirt too, both will suit you fine. Talking of the cooler weather, are you ready to try on the coats I’ve chosen? I’ve strict instructions from Mrs Matthews and I do think she is right – fashion comes and goes, but a traditional woollen coat in black will be both serviceable and smart and will last several years. We can top it off with a more modern hat, neck scarf and gloves which will bring no objection, I’m sure. I have just the items in mind.’

      Elenor looked at the three coats.

      ‘They’re all the same.’ She said.

      Sally pointed out the buttons and back pleats of one.

      ‘I think this is the one for you. Look how it hangs. Try it on.’

      In the mirror a different person looked back at Elenor. She turned and twirled, allowing the coat to rise and fall back into place.

      Mrs Green placed a green hat with a down-turned brim on Elenor’s head.

      ‘This is a little old-fashioned but will satisfy your aunt. To modernise it, you can pull it at an angle over one brow and trim it with grosgrain ribbon. Try the gloves. These are a size small and should fit your petite hands.’

      She handed Elenor a pair of suede gloves in the same green as the hat. She clasped her hands in front of her face when she looked in the mirror again.

      ‘Is it really me? I can’t thank you both enough.’

      ‘It is Mrs Green with the keen eye, I just do the basic assisting.’

      Mrs Green gave a small cough of acceptance.

      ‘I don’t think my aunt will object to me adding a few extras to her account. Essential ones, of course. I need a cream for my hands. They are sore and chafed.’

      Mrs Green gathered a few of the items from Sally as Elenor spoke.

      ‘We have just the thing. Sally will fetch the cream. It is by Yardley and contains lavender and will help them heal. Your aunt uses the brand, but it will be nice for you to have your own pot. I think you will need help carrying these home – I’ll arrange for a car to take you. I will need a signature for the account before you leave. It has been a pleasure, Miss Cardew, and I do wish you well in Coventry.’

      ‘Thank you. You have been so kind.’

      After a final twirl in the mirror, a new Elenor Cardew stepped out onto the shop floor, one with the confidence of a well-dressed young woman. At the counter she signed beneath a sum of money which would have purchased a prize bull and applied a small amount of cream to her hands before slipping on her gloves. She made her way to the front entrance where she was informed a taxi driver waited for her.

      She mastered the art of the rotating door and laughed as she stepped onto the pavement.

       Chapter 8

      Victoria rushed down the pathway as the driver unloaded Elenor’s bags from the car.

      ‘Gracious me, look at all these bags. Mrs Matthews is resting but I’ve strict instructions to wake her when you return.’

      ‘It has been a wonderful experience. Oh dear, I …’

      She watched Victoria pay the driver and when he disappeared she shared her concern.

      ‘The fool I am. I didn’t think of payment. Thank you, Victoria. I will pay you back when I have my allowance.’

      Victoria held the door open with the heel of her shoe to allow Elenor into the hallway, both struggling with the bulging bags.

      ‘No need. There is always money by the door for just such an event. Your aunt insists upon it, she said your uncle used to spend so much time scrabbling around for money, it frustrated her. The dish is never empty.’

      ‘Well, thank you for the lesson. On my farm he would have been offered eggs.’

      Victoria laughed.

      ‘He might well have given you a wide berth the next time you hailed him down.’

      Still laughing, Elenor climbed the stairs behind Victoria. They tiptoed past her aunt’s room and deposited the bags on the bed.

      ‘I’ll give you ten minutes and then I’ll rouse your aunt,’ said Victoria.

      With care, Elenor lifted her precious purchases from the bags and put them away.

      Not wishing to keep her aunt waiting, she ventured downstairs.

      ‘There you are.’

      Her aunt sat sipping tea, and Elenor poured herself a cup from the pot sitting on the table.

      ‘I must say you have chosen well. Very smart. Not too flimsy, well done. Mrs Green