Free Beyond a Misty Shore by Lyn Andrews Page B

and see if our Billy’s got his Sunday trousers and jumper on. I can never trust that lad to do as he’s told and he’s quite likely to wear some old thing that’s lost its shape.’ She paused as Bella went into the lobby and Katie came into the kitchen.‘Katie, luv, take this last plate of meat-paste sandwiches out and see if Mr Seddon has managed to get their piano out, the last I heard it was stuck in the doorway. If he hasn’t, your da will have to go and give him a hand or we’ll have no music.’
    Katie frowned as the plate was thrust into her hands. ‘Mam, my hair will get all messed up if I go running up and down the street and it’s taken Maria ages to do!’ For the first time in her life Katie felt she was attractive. Her dress fitted perfectly, it was stylish and brightened her appearance up no end. She had found a pair of emerald-green earrings to match and Maria had put her hair up in a cluster of loose curls, which made her appear older, and with the light dusting of face powder, a little rouge and lipstick she could hardly believe the transformation when she’d looked in the mirror. She was hoping that Matt Seddon would notice it too.
    ‘I’m not asking you to go running up and down, just take the plate out and have a quick look. I’ve to make sure your da, our Billy and John are presentable,’ Lizzie said firmly, propelling her towards the door. ‘Sophie, luv, would you go and give Mr Chatsworth a knock, tell him we’re all nearly ready now.’
    Sophie smiled. She’d been introduced to the lodger the day after they’d arrived and usually saw him at least once during the evenings, en route to the scullery or the privy in the yard. He was a very quiet, inoffensive, middle-aged man who kept himself very much to himself. What he did seemed to be a mystery for he didn’t go out to work. Lizzie had said he had ‘independent’ means, probably a small pension ofsome kind, and he spent a lot of his time out walking or reading in the public library, and in the evenings he listened to his wireless in the front room.
    She caught sight of herself in the mirror in the hall and frowned. She wasn’t at all sure that this dress suited her. Maria had persuaded her to buy the black brocade, which had cost more than she had intended to spend. Maria had said it was so rich looking, and would make her look elegant and sophisticated.
    ‘It’s just the sort of material expensive cocktail dresses are made of. I saw one made of something similar in the window of the Bon Marche,’ her sister had urged.
    Sophie frowned again, wondering whether it made her look old and washed out. Maria had put her hair up in a French pleat and had borrowed a pair of diamanté drop earrings from a girl she worked with for her sister to wear. Maria had assured her she looked like a model in one of those expensive fashion magazines but she wasn’t at all sure.
    In reply to her knock Mr Chatsworth opened the door, smartly dressed in a rather old-fashioned but well-pressed suit and a spotless shirt with a high winged collar. His dark hair, which was thinning and turning grey at the temples, was brushed back tidily and his eyes crinkled up in a smile. ‘Sophie, don’t you look elegant!’
    She smiled back at him. ‘Thank you. Aunty Lizzie told me to tell you we are almost ready to go out now.’ She paused. ‘You don’t think this dress makes me look like a widow who is fast approaching middle age? Black never really suited meand I’m not comfortable wearing it. It has too many painful connections.’
    He nodded; he’d heard of her loss from Lizzie. ‘I’m sure it has but you certainly don’t look middle-aged or matronly. Far from it. You look . . . sophisticated. I’ve been wondering if I should attend this party myself. It’s not really the kind of thing I enjoy. Oh, they are good people and they’ve been through a lot but . . .’
    ‘You’ll have to come now, Aunty Lizzie will go mad if you don’t,’ she