On the morning of the wedding Nell asked me to fasten the last hook at her neck. I had been useful since six without once being indispensable. Nora and her daughter had agreed to help with the food; Mrs Pike had brought the cake out of its long summer in the tin; Ada had gone …
In August the heat made the city seem to have been put too close to the fire. We opened windows, shut them against the dust, opened them again because the rooms had become unbearable. Nora Clegg took off her hat in the kitchen and sat down before beginning work. I put a glass of water …
Nell checked the figures in the kitchen while I prepared the potatoes. I had put a clean cloth over one end of the table for her papers and left the other end to work on. It was an arrangement we had managed for years without recognising that both halves contained work. She found two mistakes, …
The house belonged to a woman who had never slept in it. I knew that, had known it since Thomas and I signed the first agreement, yet I was still surprised when Mr Vale asked me to speak to his aunt rather than let him take her answers from one address to the other. She …
I missed most of the fourth talk. There was no disaster to excuse it. The kettle boiled, the cups were clean, and no one fell ill at the door. I had simply undertaken to give eighteen people refreshments while the woman I wished to hear was speaking, and Bessie was no longer being paid to …
Bessie told me she was leaving on the day of the third talk. I had paid Joan Hesketh’s remaining fee that morning, put the receipt in the book and allowed myself the luxury of believing I had reached the end of immediate difficulties. I had also answered Mr Vale before his June deadline, saying I …
The dealer played three notes on the piano, lifted the lid and looked inside. I watched his face with the anxious pride of a mother who had brought a child to be examined and forgotten every defect except the possibility of being judged for it. “It has been kept dry,” he said. “Always.” “Some work …
Nell and Arthur told me about September on a Saturday morning while I was shelling peas. I put the bowl down when I saw them standing together in the kitchen doorway. “We’ve written to ask about the twenty-third,” Nell said. “We won’t marry next week.” I had imagined the words for five days. They still …
Mrs Tait arrived first. She had put on the hat with cherries and brought the neighbour who had paid through her, a quiet woman with a yellow scarf tucked into her coat. She introduced her as Mrs Lucy Neale. They stood on the step looking past me at the light. “Are we too early?” “Not …
The man at the lamp shop would not return seventeen shillings and sixpence. He had sold me a new lamp; I had brought back one which had been used. I explained that it had been lit only a few times, then stopped because he had not asked for an account of the evenings. “I could …
