Georgina watched as Rosie said something to a young girl she presumed was her younger sister.
The girl rolled her eyes theatrically before disappearing into the boutique next door.
Sighing heavily, Rosie turned and walked the few yards to the café.
Georgina thought Rosie looked a little run ragged, but not unhappy.
‘At last, we’ve finally found the time!’ Rosie declared as she sat down at the little table Georgina had commandeered for them five minutes earlier.
Georgina laughed. ‘I can’t believe it’s taken us so long to find the time to snatch a quick cuppa.’ She tried not to show that she was a little nervous. She’d never been very good at socialising. It was probably why she didn’t have many friends.
‘I know,’ Rosie said. ‘There never seems to be a spare minute in the day, does there?’
She looked over at the waitress to show her that they were ready to order.
‘I’m so sorry I’ve had to cancel – twice – you must think I’m incredibly rude,’ Rosie said, returning her attention to Georgina.
‘No, don’t be daft. Of course I don’t. I know you’re working more or less round the clock.’ Georgina could have kicked herself. Rosie had not told her about her evening job. ‘I mean,’ she added quickly, ‘at the yard, with all the overtime everyone’s having to do.’
Rosie thought Georgina seemed a little flustered.
‘There’s that, but I’ve also got an evening job,’ Rosie said.
She was suddenly aware of the waitress hovering over her shoulder. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea, please.’
‘And I’ll have a coffee, please. Black, no milk,’ Georgina said.
Rosie smiled. She knew it was what her mam used to drink.
‘Anything to eat?’ the waitress asked.
They shook their heads and the skinny blonde girl hurried off.
‘So, you’ve got another job?’ Georgina said, trying her hardest to sound genuinely ignorant when nothing could be further from the truth.
‘Yes, I do the bookkeeping for a woman in Ashbrooke,’ Rosie said. Since Charlotte had burst back into her life, she’d realised she needed to be open – or at least relatively so – about her life and in particular her work at Lily’s. It would seem odd – suspicious, even – if she didn’t mention her evening job and further down the line Georgina was to find out.
‘That’s interesting.’ Georgina was surprised by Rosie’s honesty. ‘A bit different to welding?’
‘I know,’ Rosie said. ‘But at least it means I’m not on my feet all day and all night.’
Georgina felt herself blush. She certainly wouldn’t be. Not doing the kind of work she knew was being carried out at the place called Lily’s.
The waitress came over with a tray. They waited until she transferred their drinks onto the table and left.
‘And what is it you do?’ Rosie asked. ‘Mam said you were a – what were her exact words? – a “right bright bairn”. I remember her saying you always had your head in a book whenever she called round.’
Georgina blushed at the compliment.
‘Well, funnily enough, I also do bookkeeping, accounts – that kind of thing.’ God, she hated lying. But she couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, could she?
‘Is that why Helen had you in for an interview?’ Rosie asked.
‘Sort of,’ Georgina stalled, recalling what she and Helen had agreed to tell Rosie. ‘I’m helping with the annual audit and can work faster and more efficiently at home.’
‘I suppose it also means you can be there for your dad. You said he had bad arthritis?’
Georgina nodded. ‘He has his good days and his bad days.’ She took a sip of her coffee. ‘Was that your sister I saw you with just now – the young girl going into the boutique next door?’
‘Yes,’ Rosie sighed, ‘and she’s the other reason I’ve barely got a minute to spare these days.’
‘She certainly looks full of life,’ Georgina said with a smile.
‘That’s one way of putting it!’ Rosie laughed.
‘Just like your mam,’ Georgina said.
Rosie laughed again.
‘I wonder what our mams would say if they could see us now?’ Georgina said.
‘They’re probably up there now. Your mam drinking her black coffee and mine her milky tea,’ said Rosie.
Georgina thought they would have plenty to talk about – although she knew for certain that her own mother would not be happy with her daughter. Nor with the fact that just about every word she had spoken so far had been a lie. Honesty had been the virtue her mother had tried her hardest to instil in her. Georgina did so want to have a friend with whom she could be truthful. But she was kidding herself, wasn’t she? She was setting herself up for a fall. If Rosie found out that not only was she a private investigator, but the person who had dug up all the dirt on her women welders, she’d hate her.
Georgina mightn’t know how Mrs Crawford had used the information she had given her, but she was pretty sure her reasons had been far from altruistic.
‘Just stand still,’ Kate said. She was on her knees, pinning the hem of Charlotte’s new skirt.
Charlotte didn’t seem able to stay still for more than thirty seconds.
‘There! All done.’ Kate got to her feet and scrutinised the skirt.
‘It looks lovely.’ Charlotte twirled in front of the full-length mirror.
‘No attempts at a pirouette, please,’ said Kate, walking over to the curtain that divided the shop from the back snug. ‘And don’t fling the skirt about. Hand it to me as soon as you’ve taken it off.’
Charlotte tiptoed into the make-do-and-mend changing room as though pretending to wear high heels.
‘Do you think you could do the hem while I wait?’ Charlotte said from behind the curtain. Her hand appeared, holding the skirt.
‘It depends how long I have the pleasure of your company, Charlie.’ Kate smiled to herself. She loved Charlotte to pieces, but she wouldn’t want to swap places with Rosie. She couldn’t be getting a moment’s peace.
‘Rosie said she’d be an hour – at the most – with her new friend next door, but that you just had to come and get her if you’d had enough of me before then.’
Kate had to laugh.
‘Come on then, I should be able to get this hem done in that time.’
A few minutes later Kate was sitting in front of her beloved Singer, carefully laying out Charlotte’s new blue skirt. She’d love to be able to tell Charlotte that it had once been Helen’s dress, but, of course, she couldn’t. Kate afforded all her clients complete privacy.
‘So,’ Charlotte said, walking slowly around the boutique, inspecting whatever item of clothing, fabric or haberdashery fell into her vision. ‘You know when there’s an air raid?’
‘Mmm,’ Kate said, concentrating on threading the machine.
‘Do you all go down to the basement?’
‘No, Charlotte,’ Kate laughed, ‘we all go out and have a party in the backyard … Of course we go into the basement. Why are you asking?’
Charlotte ignored the question.
‘And do you all go to bed straight afterwards?’
Kate chuckled.
‘Lily’s not a great believer in beauty sleep – she claims not to need it.’
‘So,’ Charlotte mused, ‘if there’s an air raid, she’d probably stay up afterwards.’
Kate pulled the thread through the needle.
‘What’s that expression you love so much – “Is the pope a Catholic?”’
Charlotte smiled and picked out a blue ribbon from a basket on the side, waving it around in the air.
‘And does Lily have many visitors during the day?’
Kate stopped what she was doing and looked at Charlotte.
‘Not really.’
‘I didn’t think so,’ Charlotte said, putting the ribbon back and touching a roll of fabric that was leaning against the wall near the front door.
‘Then why do you ask?’ Kate tried to keep her voice casual as she started sewing the hem.
‘Oh, no reason.’
A pause.
‘It was just a while back, when Marjorie was visiting, we were going to call in on Lily on the way to the yard, but we didn’t.’
Kate remembered the day. Rosie had been furious about it. She’d managed to keep a lid on it so as not to make Charlotte suspicious, but as soon as she’d been free to let rip, she hadn’t held back.
‘And?’ Kate asked, manoeuvring the skirt around carefully, ensuring the hem was perfectly straight.
‘And we saw some bloke come out the front door. He looked a little worse for wear. As if he’d just woken up, but it was nearly midday.’
‘You never know with Lily,’ Kate said, keeping her eyes on the fabric. ‘She might have been helping someone out for the night. Someone down on their luck. For all her brash exterior, she can be a right softie at heart.’ She stopped and looked up at Charlotte. ‘Lily took me in when no one would even have spoken to me, never mind fed me or given me a bed. She’s always taking in waifs and strays.’
Kate knew Charlotte felt comfortable with her. Connected. Perhaps because they came from the same village and were orphaned at around the same age. Thankfully, Charlotte had not found herself being looked after by the likes of Sister Bernadette and some of the other nuns who had made Kate’s life so hellish that she had sought solace on the streets rather than within the four walls of Nazareth House.
‘Did you know my uncle Raymond?’ Charlotte suddenly asked.
‘No.’ Kate’s reply was curt. ‘He died before I met up with your sister again.’
‘What? He’s dead? Rosie didn’t say.’
Kate cursed silently.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Rosie.’ Kate snuck round the door and into Rosie’s office.
‘Come in, Kate,’ Rosie said, looking up from her ledger. ‘I could do with a break. What’s up? You look worried.’
Kate walked over to the chair and sat down. Clasping her hands together as though in prayer, she told Rosie about her conversation with Charlotte earlier that day.
‘Oh dear,’ Rosie sighed. ‘I think I’ve been kidding myself that Charlotte would lose herself with new friends at her new school. Lose interest in me and Lily and our lives. But she hasn’t. She just wants to be with me all the time. Or Lily. Or you.’
‘I think she’s trying to make up for lost time,’ Kate mused.
Rosie furrowed her brow in a questioning look.
‘For all those years she was on her own, with no family, no one to love and no one to love her back. Now she’s got the sister she adores, an eccentric mother figure who is nothing like her own mam, so she doesn’t have to feel guilty … And then there’s me, her connection to her old, happier life. I probably fall into the role of the middle child. Not quite an older sister – more of an equal.’
Rosie felt like pouring herself a cognac but didn’t. She never liked to drink in front of Kate when it was just the two of them.
‘I think you’re right.’ She sighed and sat back in her chair. ‘But can you imagine if she finds out the truth?’
Rosie stood up and walked over to the mantelpiece.
‘Her whole world will be destroyed.’
‘You really think so?’ Kate turned to look at Rosie.
‘I do,’ Rosie said. ‘She’s so innocent. I’ve kept her so sheltered. She has no idea about places like this.’ Rosie looked around. ‘Can you imagine her shock if she found out what really goes on at Lily’s? And worse still, that I didn’t always just do the books here?’
‘But,’ Kate said, ‘like all the women here, you did what you did for a reason. You did what you did to keep her safe. To keep her at Runcorn and away from certain people.’ Kate never liked to say Raymond’s name.
‘But that’s the point.’ Rosie walked over to the chaise longue and sat down. ‘If she finds out why – that she was the reason I did what I did – it would destroy her. I know Charlotte, and even though she tries to make out she’s very hardy, she’s far from it.’ Rosie exhaled. ‘Honestly, I don’t know if she would ever be the same.’
Kate looked at her friend. The friend who had saved her life. She loved her so much. Her heart broke for her, for she knew that there was only one way this was going to end.
‘Rosie, you’ve managed to keep Charlotte safe her whole life. You’ve protected her like a lion does her cubs. And here you are now, still trying to protect her. But I think you have to realise that Charlotte isn’t a cub any more. She needs to be able to survive on her own.’
Kate looked at Rosie.
‘I think it’s time you stopped protecting her.’