A Brighter Tomorrow, Maggie Ford [types of ebook readers .TXT] 📗

Dora’s eyes began to swim in tears. ‘I do miss everyone so much.’

‘Then come and live with me. I’ve got a nice room. I use it as a studio to paint in, but there’d be room for the two of us. And I might soon be able to afford something bigger.’

Gabbling on, she told Dora about the gallery owner who had taken a liking to her paintings.

‘So it looks like I might be well off before long,’ she ended eagerly; but Dora was biting her lips.

‘I can’t leave here,’ she said. ‘Not really.’

‘But you’re not happy.’

Dora gave an indifferent shrug. ‘I’ve got used to it here. I know Mrs Lowe can be a bit of a trial, but it is safe here. What would I have done last week if Doctor Lowe hadn’t been here to look after me? I keep thinking of Mum and how she got worse and worse without anyone to get her better.’

Ellie felt her resentment begin to rise. ‘If Doctor Lowe had found it in him to see her, Mum might be alive today,’ she said sullenly. ‘But no, we didn’t have any money. We were just nobodies. Now, of course, you’re in his care and his wife doesn’t want to lose you. You’re very convenient for her!’

‘It’s not like that!’ Dora protested. ‘What I mean is, I’m comfortable here and safe and I’ve more or less got most of what I want.’

‘And if you come to live with me, you won’t have them comforts.’

Dora was silent, her pretty young face turning sulky. Ellie got up sharply in a fit of annoyance. ‘Very well then, you stay here. But one day it’ll get stale and you’ll find yourself not wanted. What then?’

Still no response. The girl’s head was bowed. She had her hanky to her nose, the cold still bothering her; or was she crying silently? Ellie couldn’t tell with the girl’s hair fallen forward, hiding her face. But she was still angry.

‘So that’s it, is it? In that case, I don’t know why I bothered to come.’

She walked to the door but, with some of her anger dissipating, turned back to her sister, still sitting silently on the sofa. ‘At least you can write to me now and again, let me know how you are. And if you do change your mind, Dora, if anything goes wrong, I’ll be here for you. All right?’

Dora managed a nod and sat up to look at her. Her eyes had become bloodshot and tears ran down her pale cheeks. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone.’

Ellie felt all her anger sweep away. She ran back to her sister. Sitting down again beside her, she pulled her close, rocking her gently and making comforting sounds as the girl broke down. She found she too was crying.

‘Look, I understand,’ she crooned. ‘I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. But if you do want to, let me know straight away and I’ll come and collect you. Any time.’

With a deep, fortifying intake of breath, Dora sat up and, giving an almighty sniff laden with mucus, lifted her head. ‘I’m all right, Ellie. But it’s all taken me a bit by surprise – you coming here out of the blue. I need to think about things. And I will let you know. I promise.’

Ellie looked at the little bowed clock on the cloth-covered mantelshelf over the low fire in the grate. ‘I’ll have to go now,’ she said gently. ‘They’ll be back soon. I didn’t know the time could go so fast.’

She gazed at Dora. ‘Will you be all right?’

As Dora nodded, Ellie stood up, bending to kiss her sister’s wet cheek. ‘No more crying, or they’ll see your eyes all red. I’ll keep in touch with you. And you keep in touch with me, and—’

She was stopped by loud voices: Mrs Jenkins’s harsh tones and Mrs Lowe’s high, bleating ones. Before Ellie could take a breath the door flew open and three portly figures stood there: Doctor and Mrs Lowe, dressed in formal Sunday wear, as well as Mrs Jenkins. He was in his black frock coat, black striped trousers and stiff high collar, his high silk top hat no doubt left on the hall stand. Mrs Lowe’s hat was huge and plumed. Her sombre grey day dress also had a high collar with a jet brooch at the neck and a festoon of jet beads falling to her full bosom. Like her husband’s top hat, her warm wrap had most likely also been left with their maid. Mrs Jenkins stood behind them, her full face full of concern.

Mary Lowe’s blue eyes were trained on Dora. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ she burst out. ‘What do you think you are doing, girl?’

‘It’s my sister. She came to see me,’ Dora said in a small voice as she rose from the sofa.

‘I know who it is!’ came the sharp reply. ‘What is she doing here? Why are you entertaining her? You were apparently too under the weather to attend church; yet here you are, chatting away to your sister. Was this some sort of conspiracy – making excuses not to attend church and, as soon as I am out of the way, going behind my back? I request you go up to your room and wait for me…’

Ellie stepped forward, her face blazing. She knew she looked every inch a woman. Her wavy hair was piled up and carefully puffed out. The black toque she’d bought especially for today with some of the money Hunnard had given her for that last painting went with the dark winter coat she’d brought away with her from here. Black gloves and well-polished boots finished the ensemble.

‘My sister’s not your property, Mrs Lowe,’ she began. ‘If she wants to quit her job as lady’s maid and so-called companion, you can’t stop her.’

‘Who do you think you are talking to?’