A Fall from Grace Maggie Ford (feel good books .txt) 📖

noise. I was just coming to wash a couple of smalls, but I can wait. Will you be long?’

‘I’m nearly finished,’ Madeleine said. ‘I’ll just wring these things out.’

‘There’s a mangle downstairs in the back yard,’ came the advice. ‘Bit chilly out there this time of year, and a washing line too.’

‘I know, I did happen to see it,’ Madeleine said a little stiffly. ‘But I’ve not used the mangle yet.’

The girl’s smile seemed to be a fixture on her face. ‘I don’t hang me smalls out there,’ she said brightly. ‘Someone might pinch ’em. I just stick ’em on the backs of chairs round the fire in me room. When did you turn up?’

‘I arrived here just over a week ago,’ Madeleine supplied, now feeling forced into some sort of politeness but the girl’s beam broadened still more.

‘Don’t you talk nice,’ she remarked quite out of the blue. Madeleine blinked.

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘I said, you talk ever so nice,’ the girl repeated. ‘Ever so posh. What’s the likes of you doing in rooms like these then? I’d’ve thought someone that talks like you would’ve found theirselves a decent hotel if they want to live in London.’

The girl’s accent was very different from her own. Not exactly coarse like the Cockney accent of their landlady; more the way Freddy Dobson used to speak, untutored. The thought of him brought an unexpected pang to her heart and she turned quickly from it.

‘How long you expect to be here?’ the girl asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Madeleine hurriedly gathered her wits back together. ‘I’m not sure yet. I can ill afford anything else at the moment.’

An admission she’d not intended to make, but the girl interrupted any chance to correct herself.

‘Can any of us!’ she laughed. ‘Well, as it looks as if we’re going to be neighbours for a bit, my name’s Dorothy – Dolly, Dolly Grant. I come from Kent originally, Holstead, but I left a couple of years ago – couldn’t stand my family. Always arguing and rowing, so I walked out. What about your people then? And what’s your name?’

Madeleine told her, shortening it to Maddie, managing to sidestep giving any information about her family. Dolly seemed not to notice but merely stared at her giving Maddie time to take her in. She was tall, nearly as tall as herself, but desperately thin. The cheap high-necked blouse and ankle-length tube-like skirt seemed to hang on her. Dark hair, abundant and done in a coil or bun seemed to swamp the elfin, not particularly pretty features.

‘So what d’you do with yourself all day. Or in the evening?’ asked Dolly.

‘Nothing really.’ Madeleine turned back to rinsing the bed sheet.

‘You mean you’ve not been anywhere since you come here?’ the voice behind her exploded. ‘You can’t go on like that, Maddie. Look…’ Her hand came on Madeleine’s shoulder, making her turn back to her.

‘I’ve got to go off to work now. Part-time job for a window cleaning company, filling in for some chap who went off to war the day it broke out. But evenings I go out with some friends. Why don’t you come? We doll ourselves up and go off up West, see the sights, though London’s not as lit as it was now we got them German Zeppelins starting to come over. Dropped bombs in Norfolk y’know – killed some people. So the shops ain’t lit like they used to be. But we usually meet a few soldiers, get them to take us to some decent club or pub and have a good time. You come along. You’ll enjoy it.’

Madeleine nibbled at her lip. ‘I don’t know,’ she said doubtfully.

Memories of Freddy Dobson made her cringe inside from any man. At home she’d never been out of an evening without her parents. The only time she had ever gone out on her own had been with him and only for a briefly snatched half an hour, telling them she’d taken a walk through the village to put a little colour in her cheeks. She’d always been on edge the whole time she was away, except when lost in his arms and look where that had landed her, paying dearly for deceiving her parents.

‘You’ll be all right with us,’ Dolly was saying. ‘We won’t leave you on your own. They’re a nice bunch of friends. Rather like yourself except they’re still with their parents.’ It seemed Dolly already guessed she wasn’t living at home. ‘Do come, Maddie. I’ll make sure you come to no harm.’

What could she do but nod consent, hearing Dolly cry, ‘Good!’ as if she’d done her a great favour by accepting her invitation.

For the rest of the day Madeleine could think of nothing else but the evening when Dolly said she would call for her. Excitement pulsed through her veins such as she hadn’t felt since those times when she’d anticipated meeting Freddy. It didn’t matter that the very thought of that now made her feel sick and ashamed, knowing how she’d been led into believing all sorts of lies from his lips; what she was feeling now at being invited to join Dolly’s little group of friends was akin to how she had felt then.

On a whim, when leaving home, she had taken a couple of her lovely dresses with her. At that time she’d never thought she would wear them again. Her purpose had been to sell them for what she could get, knowing she might need the money. Now she was glad she hadn’t. This evening she would wear one of them.

It was the fourth time she’d taken the two from the curtained alcove where they’d been hanging on wooden pegs, to scrutinize each in turn. One was heavy silk, salmon pink, the other lighter weight pale blue silk or ninon. Neither had creased at all, looking as fresh as the day they’d been ordered for her from a Parisian couture house in London for when she would have ‘come out’. Not too