‘Ah, that’s nice. We’re off to see our daughter, Miriam, aren’t we, Fred?’ She flashed a smile at the old man seated next to her who was now happily puffing on a pipe, filling the carriage with smoke that stung Amber’s eyes. ‘Just had a baby she has.’ The old woman smiled proudly. ‘Her fifth it is, another boy an’ all, an’ her were so desperate for a little lass.’ She chuckled. ‘Still, like I told her, so long as the little soul is healthy, eh? She’ll have her own football team at this rate!’
Amber managed a weak smile before returning her attention to the window and thankfully soon after, when she peeped at the woman from the corner of her eye, she saw that she had fallen into a doze.
Her mother had told her that it was approximately twenty miles from Whitby to Scarborough and would probably take about two to three hours by carriage so for the next hour Amber sat back quietly and when the old woman roused, she closed her own eyes and pretended to be asleep. It was a shock when, in what seemed like no time at all, she felt someone gently shaking her arm and she realised that she really had dropped off.
‘Come on, lass. We’re here,’ the old lady told her cheerily. ‘I hope the job wi’ your uncle goes well. Ta-ra for now!’
Amber knuckled the sleep from her eyes and lifting her carpetbag she scrambled out of the carriage and looked around before fumbling in the top of it for her uncle’s address as the coach driver lifted her suitcase from the roof.
Marine View, Royal Albert Road,she read and after asking directions she set off to find it. As far as she could recollect, she had only every visited her uncle once with her mother when she was a little girl, so the streets were unfamiliar to her, but at last she found herself walking along Marine Parade, and she stared at the grand houses that looked out across the sea in amazement. They were so high they seemed to reach the sky and were far grander than she’d expected. But then she recalled her mother telling her that her uncle owned his own shop so he could probably well afford to live in such a house.
Eventually she came to one with a sign that announced this was ‘Marine View’ and she gawped at its frontage in awe. It was three storeys high and the many windows winked in the sunshine. There was a low railing all along the front that led up to a smart red door with a shiny brass knocker on it and to the left further steps went downwards to what she guessed would be a kitchen.But which way should I go?she mused.
Making a hasty decision she raised her chin and self-consciously smoothed her skirt. She would enter by the front door – if she was admitted, that was – she was family after all. Taking a deep breath, she climbed the steps and raised the brass knocker and seconds later she heard footsteps beyond the door and it inched open. She found herself staring into the face of a woman who looked to be in her late forties to early fifties and she supposed that this must be the housekeeper that her mother had told her worked for her uncle.
‘Good afternoon.’ Amber gave the woman a polite smile. ‘I am here to see my uncle, Mr Jeremiah Harding.’
The woman looked her up and down, seeming mildly surprised. She noted the girl was shabbily dressed but spotlessly clean. ‘I’m afraid Mr Harding is at work. I am his housekeeper, Mrs Carter.’ She was tall and slim and although she was no longer young, Amber thought she was still attractive, or at least she could have been if her clothes and her hairstyle weren’t quite so severe. She was dressed in a black alpaca gown with no trimmings whatsoever and her dark hair was peppered lightly with grey at the temples and pulled tightly into an unbecoming knot in the nape of her neck, but even so her eyes were a striking shade of blue and her skin was smooth.
‘Oh!’ Amber gulped. ‘Could you tell me what time he’ll be home?’
‘The shop shuts at five thirty and he’ll be home at six o’clock on the dot. Mr Harding is a creature of habit.’ Seeing the look of disappointment on Amber’s face she opened the door a little wider and invited, ‘Won’t you come in for a moment.’
‘Ta very much, missus.’ Amber stepped into a large hallway and gratefully placed her bags on the floor. She was sure they were now twice as heavy as they had been when she started out and her arms were aching from carrying them.
Mrs Carter eyed the young woman curiously. It had been some years since Jeremiah’s sister had visited him and Amber had been little more than a child then, but now she saw that she had turned into an attractive young woman with the most glorious head of hair she had ever seen. ‘Do you wish to see your uncle urgently?’
‘Well, er?.?.?. yes, I suppose I do,’ Amber answered nervously. More than ever, now that she was finally here, she was convinced that this had been a bad idea.
‘Then in that case, why don’t you leave your bags here and go and see him at the shop?’ Mrs Carter suggested not unkindly.
‘But I-I don’t know the way.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. His shop is in Hope Street and I can draw you a little map. I assume you can read?’
Colour flared into Amber’s cheeks. ‘O’ course I can read,’ she answered indignantly. ‘Me mam allus made sure that we all went to school.’
‘Very well, wait there a moment then.’ Mrs Carter hurried away, returning minutes later with a roughly drawn street map. ‘Now, keep going left until you come to Albert Road, turn there and walk on?.?.?.’ She quickly talked her way through the route and Amber smiled gratefully.
‘Thank you. I won’t be long, I hope.’
‘I assume that you’ll be staying for dinner?’
‘Er?.?.?. hopefully,’ Amber mumbled as she bent to take the letter her mother had written from the bag.
‘Very well, I shall make sure that we lay an extra place for you at the table.’
Amber inclined her head and stepped back outside, carefully following the map that Mrs Carter had drawn for her. When she reached Hope Street, she continued along it until she came to a shopfront with a brightly coloured sign hanging above it declaring that it was Harding’s Hardware Store.
Amber was quite amazed at the size of it. It took up at least two of the average shopfronts and judging by the number of people going in and out it was doing a roaring trade. Outside on hooks in the wall were a number of buckets and bowls, and brooms of all shapes and sizes stood against the wall in a huge bin. Next to that was another bin containing every garden tool a gardener could possibly need as well as tubs full of screws and nails.
Suddenly she was nervous and as she stood there dithering, a young man, who looked to be slightly older than her, came out with a lady and helped her to choose a broom. Once the woman had chosen and gone back into the shop to pay for it, he turned to Amber and asked cheerfully, ‘Can I help you, Miss?’
He was very tall with dark hair and grey eyes and Amber liked him immediately. He was so friendly it would have been hard not to.
‘Er?.?.?. no, you can’t. I’m here to see my uncle actually?.?.?. Mr Harding.’
‘Oh!’ He looked surprised. ‘Well, you’ll find him inside, Miss.’
