For the second reading I had meant to be ready early. At a quarter to seven a chair gave way beneath Mr Leach, who had been testing it with the unhelpful confidence of a man who had told me it would give way. He landed on the rug without injury, one leg of the chair …
Mr Abel kept his shop in such good order that I disliked him before he spoke. There were pencils arranged by length, envelopes by size, and three little pots of nibs which seemed to have been counted into place. My own hall table, not two streets away, contained a buttonhook, a single cufflink and a …
Bessie’s mother could read the weather in a knee, but she could not read Bessie’s letters. I learnt this on the afternoon I went to ask whether she would work for me again. Her landlady showed me into a room behind a shop where a hat was being taken to pieces. Bessie sat at the …
Dora’s answer came on Thursday, typed on the back of a sheet which began with the price of a shipment of paper. She had crossed out the shipment and written, Dear Mrs Bellamy, I meant it. Nell read it over my shoulder. “Eight women?” “Perhaps ten.” “What will they be doing?” “Reading a play.” “All …
At seven in the morning I wrote that my daughter kept accounts. I had hardly slept. Every time I turned, the narrow bed beside mine seemed to reproach me on Nell’s behalf, although Nell herself lay peacefully on her back with a hand beneath her cheek. I got up without waking her, dressed in yesterday’s …
Nell went out with Arthur after luncheon. She had put on the straw hat we had trimmed together in February, and the sight of it standing upright on her head, as if we had known then that a spring afternoon would arrive, made me ashamed of the pleasure I took in seeing her go. “You’ll …
“Are you owed wages?” Nell asked. “Nell,” I said. “That is what she means, isn’t it?” Bessie looked at my daughter, then at me. “Two pounds ten.” Ada drew her hands into her lap. The joints had stiffened while we ate; I could see her trying to fold one set of fingers over the other. …
My sister arrived to disappear from the census with two travelling bags and a woman to carry them. I had the door open before Ada could ring a second time. Rain shone on her plum-coloured shoulders; behind her, Bessie Ward stood with one bag braced against each knee. Six women were expected that evening. I …
Six months later, Iris opened the kitchen drawer and found Daniel’s pencil sharpener beside the scissors. It had arrived with his books, three good pans and the armchair she had finally repaired properly. He had moved into River Street four weeks ago, after the end of his Providence lease and several conversations that included rent, …
The house sale completed on a Friday, which Iris thought inconsiderate of a week already containing two difficult zippers and a woman who wanted a lined dress altered without removing any lining. The movers had come Thursday. By Sunday evening, the apartment on River Street contained her furniture, too many boxes and the unmistakable knowledge …
