Free Dead to Me by Lesley Pearse

hugged her, and for once the housekeeper didn’tstiffen but hugged Verity back. ‘Keep my address by you and write now and then to tell me how you are getting on,’ she murmured into Verity’s hair. ‘Forgive me for not telling you before how much I enjoyed watching you grow up. But I always thought it wasn’t my place to say such things.’
    It seemed tragic to Verity that in all the years this woman had run the house for the family, her famously starchy demeanour was what she believed was expected of her. If she had revealed her true nature years ago, maybe life would have been different for all of them.
    Almost as soon as Miss Parsons left with her one small suitcase, mother had become hysterical. ‘What am I going to do?’ she wailed. ‘I can’t do this alone.’
    Verity had to point out to her that Miss Parsons had already packed for them and had posted a set of keys to the solicitor. She’d cleaned the house from top to bottom and booked the cab to come and get them. There wasn’t anything further for her mother to do.
    Yet it was plain to Verity that this was exactly what the housekeeper had meant about her mother expecting someone to do everything for her. And it looked as if that someone would have to be Verity, as Aunt Hazel wasn’t the kind to wait on anyone.
    She had been trying to think of the move as an adventure for the last few days. She might, after all, make new and exciting friends; Aunt Hazel might turn out to be a lot nicer than she expected; and her new school might be better than her old one. But however optimistic she tried to be, the only real glimmer of light Verity could see was that the wide-open spaces of Blackheath and Greenwich Park were only a short walk from Weardale Road.
    Lewisham did have some fine shops. One was Chiesmans, the department store where she’d once been taken to see Santa Claus. Aunt Hazel worked there, making soft furnishings. But then they wouldn’t have any money to spend in such a smart shop.
    Yet however hard Verity tried to think positive thoughts as the taxi crossed the Thames into South London and her mother burst into tears yet again, Verity felt she’d lost everything she held dear.
    Sitting dejectedly in the tiny bedroom, her memories of the journey to Aunt Hazel’s house were harshly interrupted.
    ‘What are you snivelling for?’
    Verity looked up at the question. Aunt Hazel was standing in the bedroom doorway, her hands on her hips, and wearing an extremely disdainful expression. Like her younger sister she had sharp features, but Verity doubted she’d ever been pretty like Cynthia. Her eyes were small and a faded blue, and she had many wrinkles around her mouth – probably from constantly pursing her lips in disapproval. Her light brown hair had long since turned iron grey, and she wore it in a tight little bun at the nape of her neck. In a plain navy-blue, long-sleeved dress without a bit of lace, a brooch or a necklace to lift it, she looked closer to sixty than her real age of forty-eight.
    ‘I just feel sad and lonely,’ Verity said, not knowing any other way to express her feelings.
    ‘You’ll be off to school next week, so you won’t be lonely for long,’ Hazel said with a sniff. ‘You should be grateful I took you in, heaven only knows where you’d be without me.’
    ‘We are grateful. You’ve been very kind, offering us a place to stay,’ Verity said. ‘It’s just such a shock to have to leave our home.’
    ‘I’m glad to see you have good manners,’ Hazel said. ‘Now buck up and come on down and help me get the tea.’
    Verity had always known that Aunt Hazel worked in Chiesmans, but her mother obviously thought it was something to be ashamed of because when, over a supper of bread and cheese, Hazel mentioned putting in a good word for her sister with the personnel officer at Chiesmans, Cynthia bristled.
    ‘Me work in a shop!’ Cynthia exclaimed in absolute horror, as if her sister had suggested sending her down a