*
WHEN they came back inside the cottage, Emmy and Julia went upstairs to unpack and put their clothes away. Charlotte told them that for this first night they could relax in their room while she prepared supper downstairs, and that tomorrow the three of them would sit down and decide who would do what chores.
As Emmy hung up one of Julia’s dresses, her sister asked what Charlotte had meant by that.
“I imagine she expects we will do our fair share here. Setting the table, clearing it, taking out the rubbish. That sort of thing.”
“Do you think she will let me feed the chickens?”
Emmy slid the hanger onto the rung inside the wardrobe. “I am sure she will. Hand me your jumper.”
Julia handed the sweater to her and snapped her suitcase closed. “It’s not as bad here as I thought it would be. Aunt Charlotte’s nice. And her house smells pretty.”
“Pretty isn’t a smell, Jewels. Slide your suitcase under your bed like I did with mine so you won’t trip over it.”
“Why don’t you want to call her Aunt Charlotte?” Julia asked as she pushed the suitcase past the bed skirt.
“I’m too old to call someone ‘aunt’ who is not my aunt. But you’re young. It’s fine for you.”
Julia rose from her knees and sat heavily on her bed. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Emmy closed the wardrobe door. “What would you like to do?”
“Can I look at the brides?”
“Not now.”
“Why?”
Emmy didn’t have a good reason other than she was tired and it was near the end of a very trying day. “Maybe later. Why don’t you write a letter to Mum instead. You can tell her all about the ducks and turtles.”
“All right, but I’ll need help with the big words.”
Emmy told Julia she would help her with any word she didn’t know how to spell. She opened the desk drawer. Inside, Emmy found three different shades of writing paper, several sharpened pencils, and a fountain pen. It was exciting to think that she now had plenty of paper to continue sketching dresses. Emmy had planned to buy some drawing paper with her first month’s pay, but specialty paper was also being rationed and thus becoming harder to find. She decided she would make it a goal, starting the next day, to sketch a new gown every week so that she would have something to look forward to. For the moment, though, Emmy withdrew two pieces of paper—one for each of them—a pencil for Julia, and the fountain pen for herself, to write letters.
Emmy let Julia have the desk while she sat on her bed with Julia’s fairy tale book on her lap for a writing surface. While Julia wrote about the train ride, the dead bird in the street, the yellow bedroom, Charlotte’s and Rose’s long braids, and their lovely garden, Emmy penned a letter, too.
Dear Mrs. Crofton:
My sister and I are staying with an older woman named Charlotte Havelock in a tiny place not far from Stow-in-the-Wold in Gloucestershire. I would be very much in your debt if you could let me know when your cousin returns to London so that I might meet with him as we planned. I will continue to work on new sketches and I will ask Mrs. Havelock if she has a sewing machine that I can practice on while I am here. I hope to see you again very soon and I trust you will be safe.
Yours truly,
Emmeline Downtree
Thistle House
3 Maugersbury Road
Stow-on-the-Wold,
Gloucestershire
P.S. I still have the back door key you gave me.
They were called to supper just as Emmy was finishing addressing their letters. She brought the envelopes downstairs to be posted in the morning. Charlotte had set the table in the dining room for their first meal to mark the occasion. When Emmy asked about how to post the letters, Charlotte seemed pleased that the girls had been upstairs writing home.
“Your mum will be glad to hear from you girls,” she said as she placed a dish of parsleyed potatoes on the table and motioned for them to choose chairs. Rose, already seated, was unfolding and refolding her napkin.
“Emmy didn’t write Mum. Only me,” Julia announced as she plopped onto a chair.
Charlotte raised her head slightly to look at the two envelopes in Emmy’s hand, surely wondering to whom Emmy had written. “We can post your letters tomorrow. Perhaps we can walk to town and do that. It’s only half a mile. Be good to stretch your legs.”
“I need new wellies,” Rose announced, not looking up from her folding.
“Your wellies are in fine shape, Rose. But we’d love for you to come with us. Emmeline, dear, please do have a seat.”
Emmy took the chair next to Julia while Charlotte brought in a plate of sliced ham, something the sisters hadn’t seen since Christmas.
When Charlotte was seated as well, she held her hands out to her sister, and to Emmy on her other side.
“Shall we thank God for your safe arrival?”
It had been a long time since Emmy and Julia had been in the same room with someone who spoke to God out of reverence. She took her sister’s other hand and bowed her head, peering at Julia to see whether she was doing the same.
Charlotte’s prayer was brief and to the point. She thanked God for the girls, asked that they and everyone they loved would be kept safe during this uncertain time, and that they all would be always thankful for God’s gracious provision. While they ate, Julia chattered about what their flat was like in London, the long-ago trip to Brighton Beach, and how much she hated the air raid sirens. Emmy let her carry the conversation, which Charlotte and Rose seemed to enjoy very much, leading her to believe the two elderly sisters had little exposure to the animated prattle of a child.
After the girls helped with the dishes, the four of them settled in the parlor to look at Charlotte’s family photographs. Night fell. Charlotte switched on several lamps and pulled the blackout curtains down, shutting out a sky full of stars.