All That Glitters by Catrin Collier Page A

drawers with a jug and bowl on top did double service as a washstand, leaving an area only just large enough to stand, or stretch out your legs if you sat on the bed. The curtains and bedcover were of a faded green cotton which hadn’t even been pretty when new. But to Jane the room was the most beautiful she’d seen. The first that was hers, and hers alone.
    ‘There’s no wardrobe, not even room for one.’ Phyllis apologised, stripping the bed and replacing the embroidered linen cloth set below the jug and bowl with a fresh one. ‘But the drawers in the chest are deep enough to take most things, and if you’ve anything that needs hanging up, I’m sure Diana won’t mind making room for it in her wardrobe. Her room is across the landing, the boys are next door, and Evan and I are in the middle,’ she added, making certain Jane understood exactly how things stood.
    ‘I feel awful turning your little boy out of his room like this,’ Jane apologised as Phyllis picked up Brian’s teddy bear.
    ‘He won’t mind, leastways not for a week or two until you get your first wage packet. Now, I’ll move Brian’s things across to our room.’
    ‘Please don’t bother. All I’ve got is what I’m wearing.’
    ‘But you’re going to need clothes to change.’
    ‘I’ll get them. Just as soon as I’ve made some money.’
    ‘Until then, you’re going to have to let me lend you what you need.’
    ‘I couldn’t. You’ve done enough for me already.’
    ‘For a start, young lady, you’re going to need a towel, and a flannel.’ Phyllis walked across the landing to the bedroom she shared with Evan and pulled out the bottom drawer of a tallboy. Jane, unsure whether to follow or not, hovered outside the door, staring in fascination at the largest bed she’d ever seen. ‘And a brush and a comb,’ Phyllis continued.
    ‘I bought this from a pedlar outside the market,’ Jane pulled the comb from her pocket.
    Phyllis glanced at the cheap Bakelite comb. She’d owned one like it. If it lasted a week Jane would be lucky.
    ‘Let me see, soap, a nailbrush,’ Phyllis removed the items from the drawer that Evan’s wife had always kept well stocked with stores she never dipped into. ‘And underclothes and a nightgown. Did they give you one in the workhouse?’
    Jane shook her head, ashamed because she needed so many things.
    ‘Here,’ Phyllis took a floor-length white cambric, lace-trimmed gown from tissue paper.
    ‘Oh no. I couldn’t wear this. It’s far too grand.’
    ‘Take it.’ Phyllis thrust it at her. ‘It belonged to a very good friend of mine who kept it for best. She was over eighty when she died, and her “best” never came. I think she’d rather like the idea of you wearing it now.’
    ‘I don’t know what to say.’
    ‘Try thank-you. It’s generally enough for most people.’ Phyllis held out her arms and hugged Jane. Jane shrank from her touch. Being embraced was a new and bewildering experience. ‘Now if you’re going to be in the Town Hall at four o’clock, it’s time we warmed that soup up you didn’t touch at dinner time so you can go off on a full stomach.’
    ‘Haydn, I can’t dance another step or sing another note.’ Babs Bradley, the pretty, curly-haired blonde, who’d landed the choice leading lady role in the Variety, made a face as she slumped on the floor of the rehearsal room.
    ‘Then we’ll have no show to open a week Monday.’ Haydn was worn out and impatient from the morning’s rehearsals. ‘Come on, Babs, act like a trouper.’ He gripped her hands and pulled her to her feet.
    ‘We’re not going to get anywhere if you persist in playing the Prime Donna, Babs,’ ‘Chuckles’ Byrne complained. The show’s producer had been given his nickname because he’d never been known to smile, much less laugh. ‘Take five, everyone.’
    ‘Thank God.’ Babs miraculously perked up. ‘I need an ice cream.’
    ‘If you ask me she needs a good kick up the arse.’ Max