Chapter Twenty

‘What does it feel like?’ Helen turned her head to look at Henrietta. They had just gone through the main gates of the asylum and were now driving along Waterworks Road, past the Gothic red-brick Ryhope Pumping Station.

‘Exhilarating!’ Henrietta said, her expression a reflection of her words.

Helen’s smile was wide. She too felt exhilarated. This was a huge step for her grandmother, and one Helen hadn’t been entirely sure she would either want or be able to take. But Henrietta most certainly had wanted to. There had been no hesitation when Helen had arrived this morning to pick her up, her grandmother had very clearly been ready, willing and able. Helen did wonder, though, if her keenness was as much to do with getting a new outfit and visiting a boutique as it was about leaving the asylum for a few hours.

‘And I can be myself?’ Henrietta asked.

‘You can in all ways,’ Helen said. ‘Kate knows that you are my grandmother.’

Henrietta smiled and squeezed Helen’s hand, which was resting on the gearstick.

As they drove through Ryhope village and along the coastal road, they were both quiet. Henrietta’s eyes were glued to the North Sea, only occasionally looking to her left at the surrounding countryside. Helen thought about her conversation with Dr Eris, how she had told the doctor that as Henrietta had been doing so well of late, she thought it would be a good idea to take her out. Dr Eris had shown her surprise and asked her if she thought that was wise, her tone indicating that it was not Henrietta’s mental state which was the cause for concern, but the possibility of her being recognised. ‘What would Mr Havelock have to say on the matter?’ she’d whispered. Helen hadn’t answered but had simply asked for the necessary paperwork and told her that she’d pick it up from Genevieve. She’d actually felt slightly empowered. It was now just as important to Dr Eris that Henrietta’s identity be kept a secret as it was for Helen. If the real Henrietta Havelock was revealed to the world, then Claire would no longer have a hold over her.

As they reached the outskirts of the town, however, Helen started to feel a little apprehensive. She knew she was taking a risk bringing Henrietta out, although she had convinced herself and the women that the risk was minimal. It was a Sunday, after all. Kate was opening up the boutique purely for Henrietta. The ‘Closed’ sign, she had reassured her, would be on show and no one else would be allowed in, even if they came knocking at the door.

Driving down Holmeside, Helen thought it seemed busier than normal. Much busier. Then it occurred to her that it was the last Sunday of the month. The date the Shipbuilding Corporation was launching its latest cargo vessel, Empire Mandalay. Hordes of people – men, women and children – were all streaming down to the south docks.

‘Damn!’ Helen muttered under her breath.

She looked at Henrietta, who was staring out of the passenger window.

‘How everything’s changed,’ she mused.

‘It certainly has, Grandmama. Are you still feeling all right?’ Helen asked gently. She had warned Kate that Henrietta might not feel able to go through with it all.

‘Yes, yes, my dear. I’ve just seen a woman in the most amazing outfit. I feel quite inspired.’

Helen breathed a sigh of relief. Now she just had to get her grandmother into the shop without anyone seeing her. She knew she was being overcautious and a little paranoid, but there was a lot at stake. Sunderland was a relatively small town. People had long memories. And in her day, Henrietta had been a high-profile figure. The quicker Henrietta had a makeover, the better.

Parking up outside Maison Nouvelle, Helen silently cursed the fact she’d bought such a showy car. A group of children immediately surrounded it. Helen grabbed her handbag and pulled out her purse. Climbing out of the driver’s seat, she opened her purse and emptied all the coins in it into her hand.

‘Here, children,’ Helen called out. ‘To celebrate Mandalay!’

The lure of a handful of shiny coins did the trick and the children lined up to take one each before speeding off down the street.

As soon as they were gone, Helen hurried round the other side, smiling at an elderly gentleman who tipped his cap to her, his eyes, thankfully, fixed firmly on the car.

‘Come on, Grandmama,’ Helen said, helping Henrietta out of the low passenger seat. Putting her arm around her, she quickly ushered her into the boutique.

The bell rang out as soon as they opened the door and Helen breathed a sigh of relief that Kate had left it unlocked.

‘You made it!’ Kate called out as soon as she saw the pair enter the shop. She hurried over and shook hands with Henrietta. ‘Lovely to meet you, Miss Girling.’

‘Oh, my dear, please, call me Henrietta. I’m not one for standing on ceremony.’

Kate looked at the woman she had heard so much about. Her style was certainly different. Unique. Her red hair was piled high. Her taffeta skirt was amazing, but more like something you’d see on the stage or a film set at the turn of the century. Helen had been right in saying that her grandmother looked younger than her age. She could certainly pass as a woman in her late forties to early fifties.

‘Well, Henrietta, it’s an honour to have you here and for you to entrust me with creating you a new wardrobe.’ And with that, Kate walked over to the front door, locked it and pulled down the blind. Ushering Henrietta into the boutique, she got to work with her tape measure while Helen made them each a cup of tea, which surprised Kate as she had only really known Helen as a client and had never imagined her as the type of person who made tea for others.

While double-checking Henrietta’s measurements, Kate talked to her about the Utility Clothing Scheme, introduced by the government in response to the shortage of clothing materials and labour.

‘The introduction of rationing, however,’ Henrietta suddenly sparked up, ‘has not made clothes any cheaper.’

Helen raised her eyebrows at her grandmother.

‘I do read all those newspapers you leave for me, you know,’ Henrietta said.

Kate chuckled. Helen and her grandmother were quite the pair. Seeing them together certainly shed a new light on Helen.

When the measuring was done, they all sat down and Kate got out a few magazines. Certain pages had been earmarked with examples of outfits she thought would suit Henrietta and bring her, as Helen had requested, into the modern world. ‘What about this – not too showy, but a rather lovely blend of mature chic?’

‘Oh, that’s divine!’ Henrietta said, clapping her hands at one particular outfit.

Helen breathed a sigh of relief. Kate had chosen well.

When Kate mentioned the Make Do and Mend campaign, Helen jumped up.

‘I nearly forgot!’

Hurrying out of the boutique, she fetched some of Henrietta’s old clothes from the boot of her car.

‘Thank you,’ Kate said, taking the clothes from Helen, her eyes scanning the quality of the fabric. ‘I shall certainly put these to good use.’

After hanging up the donated clothes, Kate picked up a sample of fabric from her worktop and showed it to Henrietta.

‘Oh, my dear,’ Henrietta said suddenly, her face aghast as she gently took Kate’s hands and turned them over in her own smooth, pale ones. ‘You have not had an easy life, have you?’ She traced one of the main scars across Kate’s knuckles. There were scores of thin, pale lines where the skin had been repeatedly split open by Sister Bernadette’s favourite birch stick.

Helen stared. In all the time she had known Kate, she had never noticed her scarred hands, or that her nails were bitten to the quick.

Kate gently pulled her hands away from Henrietta.

‘Nor, I believe, have you had the easiest of lives,’ she said.

‘Oh, but I deserved mine,’ Henrietta said, her eyes suddenly pooling with the start of tears. ‘If I have any scars in here – ’ she put a hand to her heart ‘ – or here –’ she touched her head ‘ – then I deserve every one of them.’

Kate and Helen both stared at Henrietta.

‘Really?’ Kate asked. ‘Is that what you honestly believe?’

Henrietta nodded.

‘You know,’ Kate said, ‘the life I have led has made me a good reader of people, and I have to say I find it hard to believe that you deserve the scars you carry inside.’

‘Oh, but I do,’ Henrietta said with complete conviction. ‘I really do.’

Helen threw Kate a look. ‘I have to agree with Kate, Grandmama. You don’t deserve to be punished for anything.’

‘Like I’ve told you before, Helen, it is my fault all those poor girls suffered.’ Henrietta put her hand to her chest. ‘None more so than poor little Gracie … I should have known … Realised what that man was up to.’

It took a moment for Kate to remember what she had been told after the Christmas showdown – that Mr Havelock had raped a young girl who had given birth to his child and then taken her own life.

‘Well, I think you’re wrong, Henrietta. Completely and utterly wrong,’ Kate said quite sharply.

Helen and Henrietta both looked at the diminutive seamstress.

‘It makes me angry,’ Kate said, her focus on Henrietta, ‘that you believe you should bear the burden of another person’s actions. You didn’t do those horrendous acts. He did.’

Henrietta stared at Kate.

‘Well, I couldn’t have put it better myself,’ Helen agreed.

There was a moment’s quiet.

‘Anyway, enough serious talk,’ Kate said, her tone softening as she reached for her book of fabric samples. ‘How about this for your first skirt suit? I could have it ready for Christmas.’

Helen looked at Henrietta. ‘You will have an outfit for the Christmas Extravaganza.’

Henrietta’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, that would be wonderful! Truly wonderful!’

‘I’m guessing Dorothy has roped you in too?’ Helen asked Kate.

‘Oh yes,’ Kate smiled. ‘She seems to think that my seamstress skills somehow make me the perfect candidate to do the decorations.’

‘Mmm, I’m not sure I see the connection.’

Kate chuckled. ‘Me neither, but I don’t mind – actually, I think I’ll quite enjoy it.’

As they got up to leave, Helen touched Kate on the arm and said, ‘Thank you.’ The way she spoke, it was clear her gratitude was not just for her work but also for her words.

‘So, I’ll see you both again for the fitting, I’ll call you with a date nearer the time?’

‘Sounds perfect to me,’ Helen said.

‘Perfect,’ agreed Henrietta.

Helen unlocked the door and quickly checked the street, which, thankfully, was now much quieter, before guiding Henrietta hastily back to the car.