Miranda was busy writing in her notebook. ‘Why was it so seamless?’
‘We just got on with it, none of the men’s lavish lunches and lengthy meetings. Accounts are about balancing books, working out where to economize, where to spend.’ Hilda smiled proudly. ‘I realized I was good at it – better than my previous boss.’ Then her smile dropped. ‘But when he came back after the war, we women had to go back to adding numbers and typing.’
‘Work was more fun during the war,’ Caroline joined in. ‘Single women like me had to take work in the cities, which meant more freedom away from home.’ Her eyes glazed over, as if reliving the experience. ‘We were living for the day, dancing till dawn and throwing caution to the wind.’
Blood rushed to Caroline’s face, and Lucy wondered whether the quiet, hardworking dresser had thrown a little too much caution to thewind. For the first time, Lucy could see a younger Caroline, someone more like her, a girl fresh to the city. But as she looked at the tired, put-upon woman with her badly cut hair and ill-fitting clothes, Lucy felt determined not to end up the same way. She wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away, no matter what the others said.
These women, they didn’t see how things were changing.
Well, Lucy thought, she’d seen how modern women weren’t afraid to use their femininity to get ahead, and that was jolly well what she was going to do, whatever these palace matrons said.
CAROLINE
AFTER THE TEA BREAK,CAROLINE RUSHED THROUGH THEback corridors. The closer the coronation came, the more work there was for her, with a lot of extra events and banquets. The palace was busier, too, and she had to weave through the throng of footmen, office workers, equerries, politicians, and now gardeners.
She’d seen the brown-uniformed group from various windows, of course, congregating by the lawn, heading in and out of the palace.
Was Angus among them?
Blood throbbed through her head every time she thought of him. It would crush her if she saw him. She’d have to hold herself together, remember it had been a long time ago. In any case, what difference would it make? At best, it could be the end of the anger and hurt that had haunted her. She could finally discover what had happened at the front that he couldn’t even get in touch, acknowledge their child.
But at its worst, it could plunge her back into the pain, the what ifs. It could defeat her once and for all.
‘Caroline Brimstone?’ Interrupting her thoughts, one of the chief telephonists stopped her. ‘I was just coming to find you.’ The woman indicated that Caroline should follow her. ‘We have a solicitor on the line for you. He says it’s important.’
‘For me?’ Caroline trailed after her into the office.
‘We don’t usually take calls for the staff here, but seeing as you’re the assistant dresser, I’m letting it go.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ she said nervously, wondering what a solicitor could want with her. Had Frank been in some kind of trouble?
Caroline picked up the receiver, hoping to have a little privacy as she said, ‘Hello, this is Caroline Brimstone.’
‘I’m Mr Hancock from Burnley, Hancock & Matthews in York.’ The man’s voice had that familiar burr of the Yorkshire accent, and for a brief moment, it reminded her of her father, of home. ‘You’ll have to excuse me for calling you at work, but we couldn’t find any other contact number for you.’
‘That’s all right,’ she said, wishing he’d get on with it. ‘What’s it concerning?’
‘I’m sorry if you hadn’t already heard, but your uncle, Mr Graham, passed away last month.’
‘Uncle Jeremy?’ It was her father’s brother. Her heart missed a beat. ‘Was it sudden?’ She felt herself blush, quickly explaining, ‘It’s hard to keep in touch, with a husband and child, a job.’ The truth was that she’d stopped writing, and she felt guilt trickle down her neck like a cold sweat. They’d been such a close-knit family, especially with Uncle Jeremy. She should have found time to write.
‘It was his heart in the end, but he’d lived a good long life.’ Mr Hancock cleared his throat. ‘I’m calling about his will. As you know, he had no children, which makes you the only heir. His house is being sold to release money to pay off various arrears, and once that’s cleared, I’ll send the cheque on to you. Could you let me know your address?’
Astonished, she gave him her details. ‘That’s very kind of Uncle Jeremy. Could I ask, how much is it?’ Thoughts of a trip with Annabel came to mind.
‘We won’t know the full sum until everything is cleared, but it’ll be a good amount.’
By the end of the call, she put down the receiver in a daze.
Uncle Jeremy was her last living relative, and now he’d died. What’s more, she hadn’t even known about it. There and then she knew that she would use some of that money to go to Yorkshire. She’d let life with Frank engulf her for too long, and now this money, no matter how small, would be enough to pay for her and Annabel to visit her old home.
How she longed to go to that old familiar countryside, to go and never come back.
Slowly, she walked back up to the wardrobe, burying herself in the ironing, thinking about her family – her life. How the years had vanished. She was always looking to the future, hoping for a time that might be better, happier.
And that’s when the truth cascaded down onto her.
That a time like that may never come.
