Till the Sun Shines Through. Anne Bennett
Читать онлайн книгу.
Jimmy is too stiffnecked to do that, at least get someone in to help in the house.’
But Sarah was no more inclined to have a stranger in her kitchen than Jimmy was in his farm, Bridie knew, and realised the situation was unlikely to change. Ellen felt sorry for Bridie, but also for her sister too. She knew how much of a burden Sarah felt already and didn’t want to add to her problems by continually carping at her.
There was little Ellen could do long-term to ease the situation for the family, but she did tackle Bridie about the social evenings that she had stopped going to. ‘I got out of the way of it when Mammy scalded herself,’ Bridie said, and gave a shiver at the memory of it. ‘God, it was a desperate time.’
‘I’m sure it was,’ Ellen said. ‘But what about afterwards, when your mammy recovered a bit?’
‘There is so much to do,’ Bridie replied. ‘And I’m always so tired by the evening. It hardly seems worth it.’
‘Of course it’s worth it,’ Ellen retorted sharply. ‘It’s not helpful to be buried away in this place with two old folk and never seeing anyone else day in and day out.’
‘I see Rosalyn.’
‘Aye, but isn’t she at work every day?’ Ellen said. She knew too that soon Bridie would lose Rosalyn as well because Delia was after telling her just that day of the offer Rosalyn had received that she’d be mad to refuse. She guessed that Bridie hadn’t a hint of it, or she’d certainly have mentioned it. She knew also how much Bridie would miss her cousin and had no intention of telling her, particularly as the details were not finalised yet. However, Ellen knew it was even more vital now that her niece meet other young people. ‘You need to get out more,’ she continued. ‘Jimmy tells me you hardly ever go into the town, even on a Fair Day.’
‘We can’t both be away from the farm,’ Bridie protested. ‘Anyway, I’d hesitate to leave Mammy.’
‘Well, you’ll leave her tomorrow,’ Ellen said determinedly, ‘because you and I are going to town. Mary is here to see to things – we’ll take the rail bus in, so we will.’
‘But why are we going to town?’
‘Why? Because, my girl, I see you for ever in breeches and shirt. I bet you’ve nearly forgotten you’re a girl – a young lady. For your first Harvest Dance, I want you to be the belle of the ball. We’re going to choose the dress of your dreams.’
‘Oh,’ said Bridie, and felt stirrings of excitement at the prospect of new pretty clothes. She went to bed that night dreaming of the next day.
‘Right, Sam,’ Ellen said as the three of them reached the town, ‘here’s the list Sarah and Jimmy gave me for things they need.’
Aye,’ said Sam, taking it from her. ‘Where will you be when I finish?’
‘How would I know that?’ Ellen asked. ‘I don’t know how long things are going to take. Wait for us in the hotel and we’ll have our dinner there before heading for home.’ She nudged Bridie as she spoke. ‘Bit of a treat for you.’
It was a treat. The whole day out was just wonderful. Just to be there in the town, carefree and not with one eye on the clock all the time, worrying about her mother and knowing there would be a pile of jobs waiting for her back home, was sheer bliss. ‘Oh, Aunt Ellen,’ she said. ‘It’s tremendous, the whole thing. Thank you.’
‘God, girl, you’ve got nothing to thank me for yet,’ Ellen cried. ‘Come on now, let’s do some serious shopping.’
And with that, Ellen tucked her arm through Bridie’s, gave a desultory wave to Sam and the two set off to conquer the town.
Ellen led the way to Dumphries, the elegant and pricey dress shop Bridie had never been through the door of before, where she had Bridie try on one dress after the other.
‘What d’you think? Which one do you like?’ she asked Bridie who could only shake her head in reply. She’d never seen such clothes – how could she choose? One was as beautiful as the next.
‘Shall I tell you my choice then?’ Ellen asked, and Bridie nodded her head eagerly. Ellen held up a dress of golden brown with a pattern of green and russet running through it. ‘Put this one on again.’
Bridie took it from her aunt. It was beautiful: the bodice was of fine shimmering material over a skirt of satin and was worn just off the shoulders. It felt so good next to her skin. ‘You don’t think it too low?’ she asked, anxiously tugging at it. It showed her figure to perfection with just a demure hint of cleavage.
‘Not at all,’ Ellen said firmly. ‘It’s a dance. Everyone will wear similar things. Trust me.’
‘But my shoulders are bare,’ Bridie went on. She’d never had anything like this in her life. ‘Isn’t it …? Maybe people will think it a little fast?’
‘Bridie, you’re eighteen,’ Ellen said. ‘The time for childish dresses is past – and you don’t wear sensible clothes that you wear for Mass to a dance, especially your first.’
Bridie still looked doubtful and Ellen said, ‘I’ll buy you a stole to cover your shoulders if you’re so worried. But once the dancing starts, you won’t want a stole hampering you. Come on, take it off and we’ll get them to wrap it up. Now for the underneath.’
‘Underneath!’
‘Bridie, you don’t wear flannel bloomers under a dress like this,’ Ellen said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘We need lace bloomers and petticoats. No need for any sort of brassiere though, for the dress is fitted to show off your bust.’
Bridie felt her face flame with embarrassment at her aunt talking this way, and in the hearing of the shop assistants too. She knew full well the dress was fitted to show off her bust. That was what worried her most, especially the reaction of her mother when she saw just how much flesh the dress showed off.
She couldn’t help, though, but be impressed by the soft bloomers with deep lace edging and the matching petticoats and before they left the shop, true to her word, Ellen bought a stole of soft brown wool shot through with threads of gold that went perfectly with the dress. Then she marched Bridie to the shoemaker’s and bought her the softest, daintiest boots of tan leather.
‘And now,’ she said as they stood outside the shoemakers, ‘I’ve made an appointment with the hairdresser.’
Bridie’s hands immediately flew to her head. ‘My hair! What’s the matter with my hair?’
‘Nothing,’ Ellen said. ‘Or at least nothing that can’t be fixed.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Now don’t fly off the handle,’ Ellen said. ‘I’m not talking of shaving your head, but it needs to be thinned a little. It’s so thick it tangles easily. And then maybe a wee tadge off the length.’
Bridie had had little time to do anything with her hair but wash it for years, yet she was still apprehensive. But she needn’t have worried. Submitting to the hairdresser’s skill, she saw her natural waves again become apparent and the straggly locks cut off, reducing the length to just below her shoulders.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked Ellen, still doubtful herself.
‘Like it? Girl, it’s tremendous so it is,’ Ellen said excitedly. ‘And d’you like the length? You could wear it down to the Harvest Dance. All you’d need would be two Spanish combs to fasten at each side. God, Bridie, you’re going to look the business!’
Bridie’s head was reeling. She’d never had so much spent on her in the whole of her life. ‘And now we’ll be away to the hotel for a big feed,’ Ellen said. ‘Come, girl, let’s see you knock them dead in that place, even wearing those old clothes you have on. Their eyes will be out on stalks, so they will.’
‘Oh, Aunt Ellen,’ Bridie said, her face flushing with embarrassment.