Connie’s Courage. Annie Groves

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      Ellie nodded her head. She knew that Gideon had hoped that this visit to her cousin would lift her spirits, but Cecily’s comment had simply reminded her of a time when her sister Connie had been alive.

      ‘Connie always loved Christmas so much,’ she said sadly. ‘I think it was her favourite time of the year. We used to hurry home from school so that we could make our Christmas cards together. I miss her so much, Cecily.’ Tears filled Ellie’s eyes.

      ‘Ellie, you really must try to put her loss behind you,’ Cecily told her firmly. ‘I know it was very sad, but under the circumstances, bearing in mind the disgrace she had brought upon herself …’

      ‘I know that what she did was wrong, Cecily, but …’

      ‘Indeed it was. Very wrong! I suppose I should look for something for the maids,’ Cecily fretted, deliberately changing the subject, ‘although not in here, of course. It would be far too expensive. I thought perhaps a pretty handkerchief, Mama always gives her maids gloves which she buys from the Church bazaar. What are the children to have this year?’

      Ellie smiled, roused from her sadness by the mention of her family.

      ‘Gideon has insisted on buying a brand new train set for Richard, and we’ve ordered a new rocking horse for Joshua. Henrietta is to have a set of paints. She is very artistic, and Gideon thinks that we should get her some private tuition.’

      Cecily started to frown. ‘Well, I know how much you love her, Ellie, but I have to say that with her looks – and she is quite strikingly oriental-looking now, although very pretty – you may regret making her so much a part of your family. Mama says that it would have been far better if you had had her adopted, or sent her back to Japan.’

      Ellie was shocked.

      ‘Cecily, I look on Henrietta as my daughter, as much as though I had borne her myself,’ she told her cousin in outrage. ‘Gideon and I have adopted her legally and, to us, she is our eldest child.’

      Really, Ellie thought crossly, sometimes Cecily seemed to be growing unpleasantly like her mother!

      ‘Brrr, it’s cold!’ Connie exclaimed, as she huddled into her thin coat.

      ‘Oh, do let’s look at Bon Marche’s window,’ Mavis begged her, catching hold of her arm.

      Arm in arm, the two girls studied the elegant window displays, and the luxurious furs worn by the mannequin.

      Still arm in arm, they crossed over the road to look into the windows of George Henry Lee’s.

      ‘Oh, Connie! Evening-in-Paris perfume. I can remember my father buying my mother some! And look at those gloves!’

      They walked happily from the store to Bold Street, ‘the Bond Street of Liverpool', lingering over each window display and teasing each other, their laughter ringing out in the cold air, as they drew level with Cripps shawl shop.

      ‘Oh, do let’s go in, ‘Connie, Mavis urged. ‘I would love to buy my mother a really good warm shawl!’

      The shop was busy with customers, and whilst they waited to be served, Mavis fingered some of the shawls.

      ‘Oh, look at that one, Connie,’ Mavis exclaimed, pointing to a particularly warm, soft, lavender blue shawl. ‘It is so pretty.’

      Connie looked at the shawl. It felt warm to the touch, and it was obviously expensive.

      An hour later, after Mavis had finished her shopping, and Connie had mentally earmarked the small items she had decided to buy for her friends, Mavis said tiredly, ‘I’m parched. Shall we go and have a cup of tea?’

      ‘Yes, let’s, Connie agreed, and linking up together they started to walk down the road.

      They had just reached the teashop, when Connie exclaimed, ‘Oh, I’ve just remembered there’s something I wanted to get. You order that tea, Mavis, and I’ll just dash back for it!’

      It didn’t take her long to hurry back to Cripps, and, mercifully, this time there were no other customers. Connie pointed out the lavender blue shawl and opened her purse.

      ‘It’s one of my favourites,’ the saleswoman said to her approvingly. ‘Fair lifts the heart that colour does.’

      Thanking her, Connie paid for her purchase and left. Connie hadn’t forgotten the help Ma Deakin had given her, and when she had seen the shawl, she had thought immediately of the midwife.

      The late autumn afternoon was already closing into dusk, as Ellie walked out of a shop ahead of Cecily. The street was busy with shoppers, but Ellie’s attention was caught by one girl who was crossing the street, a few yards away from her.

      Ellie froze, gripped by shock. The girl had her back to her, but something about her made Ellie’s heart pound. Connie. It was Connie! The angle of her head, the way she walked. It was her sister! Frantically Ellie started to hurry after her, calling out her name, desperate to catch up with her, oblivious to the attention her urgency and strained expression were attracting.

      She was walking so fast that she accidentally turned her ankle, and would have fallen if a kindly fellow shopper hadn’t reached out to hold her arm steady. Choking back a sob, Ellie thanked him before begging, ‘Please, I must go. My sister … I must find her …’

      ‘But your ankle – you gave it a nasty twist …’

      ‘Please …’ Ellie pulled away. She had to catch up with Connie, before she was swallowed up in the busy crowd and lost to her.

      ‘Ellie. What is going on? I saw you slip,’ Cecily told her anxiously, catching up with her.

      ‘Cecily, I just saw Connie …’ Ellie burst out immediately. ‘We must go after her. We must find her, Cecily …’

      Tears were running down Ellie’s face, as her frantic gaze searched the crowded street.

      Cecily stared at Ellie in consternation. She knew how distressed Ellie had been by her younger sister’s death, of course, but … ‘Ellie, you can’t have done … you must have been mistaken,’ she told her gently, taking hold of her arm.

      ‘No, Cecily, it was Connie,’ Ellie insisted again. ‘We must go after her.’

      ‘Oh, Ellie, my dear, be reasonable. How could it possibly be Connie?’

      Ellie stared at her cousin, suddenly realising how she must appear to her.

      And Cecily was right. How could it have been Connie? Connie was dead. Ellie had let her own pain overwhelm reality! Bleakly Ellie let Cecily lead her away.

      ‘I’m sorry, Cecily,’ she apologised shakily. ‘It was that just for a minute …’

      ‘Let’s go and have our tea,’ Cecily told her firmly, tightening her grip on Ellie’s arm.

      ‘I’ve ordered us tea and some crumpets,’ Mavis told Connie, as she hurried into the teashop. ‘I’m really looking forward to Christmas at the Infirmary now. I wasn’t at first, but Josie told me that Sister said that it is the most jolly time, with every СКАЧАТЬ