‘Abigail is a born nurse,’ said Dulcie, still smiling.
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Abby. ‘I like taking care of my sisters,’ she said this a little shyly, ‘but as for some of the ladies who come to recuperate for a month! I smile and do as I’m bidden but I say plenty under my breath in the sluice room, I can tell you.’
‘I was a nurse in the war,’ I said. It seemed to be what was expected, to sit and talk as though in any sitting room, in any company, while the three Hepburn sisters looked around and smiled and slowly lost interest in the new arrivals and returned to their inner calm. ‘Soldiers. It was pretty horrid, sometimes.’
‘Yes,’ said Dulcie. ‘We do very well here without men.’
‘My sisters have hardly ever seen a man,’ Abigail said. She used the word more boldly this time. ‘I don’t pity them.’
‘They seem to be doing very nicely on it,’ I agreed. ‘And do you live here in the cottage as well, Mrs Hepburn?’
Dulcie nodded. ‘Every third night one of the sisters comes instead and I go and sleep in the main house. Night-times can be difficult, you see. I used to have my own room, for when I visited, but now I share with my . . .’ She stopped and both she and Abigail gave uneasy little laughs. ‘We’ve been trying to decide,’ she said. ‘Something to say to stop questions from new staff, you know. God-daughter, I think we settled on, didn’t we, Abby?’
I nodded, but inside I was beginning to shudder. Anything less godly than the relation between these two women was hard to imagine, one the by-blow of the other’s husband and her son’s mistress too. Thankfully I managed to think my thoughts while showing none of them. At least, perhaps Fiona Haddo would have said, ‘Oh, I know,’ and raised that arched eyebrow, but Dulcie and Abigail had half their attention on the three girls.
I left them soon afterwards, making my way alone back to Mary in the sunroom. Which path would I have taken if life had worked that way? If one could choose one’s fate from a display on a shop floor and had it made up to fit one? Would I be Hilda Haddo playing at shops again in another store with another man in charge of me, or would I be Abigail Aitken, back in her mother’s heart and with Dulcie as a second mother should Mary’s frail health fail, here playing at houses in that little white cottage with three rosy-cheeked dolls?
Neither, I decided, and I would not be Jack nor Robin nor Fiona nor Bob nor, God knows, Bella. I rummaged in my pocket. Miss Armstrong had been keeping these tucked away on her private shelf in the staff cloakroom all through the closing, refitting and reopening of the Emporium. I rubbed my thumb over the black letters, feeling the good deep engraving and reading the words again with a swell of pride. Gilver and Osborne. Servants of Truth.
I would not even swap places with Alec. I was very glad indeed that, out of everyone around, I was me.
Postscript
15th May 1927
Darling,
I wish you would tell me what is wrong. I cannot imagine what it is I have done to make you angry with me or what someone might have said to turn you against me so. If you refuse to meet me or speak to me when I ring you up how can I make it right again? I know that you love me as I love you and I am going to trust that whatever has happened to upset you it will pass and you will be my same old darling again soon.
Your Dearest xxx
17th May 1927
Dearest,
We have had more happy times this spring than some people get in their lifetimes and must count ourselves fortunate for them. I will treasure the memory of your love as long as I live. I am not what you thought I was and not what I myself thought I was either. I cannot explain and I must not see you again but you surely know that my heart is yours for ever.
Your Darling xxx
Facts and Fictions
Abbey Park at 15 Abbey Park Place is a real house in Dunfermline. Once a bank, later the headquarters of the Carnegie Trust, in 1927 it was owned by an American by the name of Bishop. I have evicted Dr Bishop and moved the Aitkens in.
Aitkens’ Emporium and the House of Hepburn are imaginary. Hepburns’ is imagined to be diagonally oppposite the tolbooth and Aitkens’ is next door to the Guildhall.
Bank House and Roseville are based on two real houses in Dumfries and Galloway which I have hauled north and plopped down in Dunfermline where I needed them, opposite the Guildhall and in place of Broomfield Drive respectively.
Needless to say, none of the Aitkens or Hepburns (or others in the book) are based on real people, except for Lynne McWilliam of the Gowns Department at Aitkens’, who got her name courtesy of Mrs Lynne McWilliam of New Abbey, the winner of a character name competition. My good luck with suitable winning names continues.
Also by the same author
After the Armistice Ball
The Burry Man’s Day
Bury Her Deep
The Winter Ground
Dandy Gilver and the Proper Treatment of Bloodstains
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