08-10-2022, 07:35 PM
Rose remembered Mrs. Blacke well. Mrs Blacke used to live in the Cragg as well and she had been close friends with Rose's mother. And Rose had been close friends with Joe back in school of course. But after the death of her mother some five years ago, she had seen less of Mrs. Blacke. The Blackes had long moved out to the nicer terraced homes at Oswy street by that time, and Rose's friendship with Joe had already faded over the years while Joe worked at the station and she would gather bait, skane mussels, bait lines and help her mother with chores and her younger siblings all day.
Then when her mother was gone, the contact had slowly faded. Perhaps the missing had just been too painful to spend her scarce time and energy on reminders of her mother. She had met Mrs. Blacke in the market and other places sometimes, and they would talk briefly, but Rose would always come up with an excuse to leave before it would get too personal and she'd feel the need to cry. Even those encounters had stopped when Simon had tossed their family into near ruin and Rose had been forced to go to York to work. And after she had taken the job at Mr. Meijer's... She hadn't even dared to stop long on errands then. God forbid she should provoke that ogre's anger.
She hadn't run into Mrs. Blacke yet since getting married, and so here she was, knocking on the door to ask a favour of a woman she felt she wasn't close enough to to ask. But Anne had assured her she was on good terms with Mrs. Blacke and the woman would be delighted to let her stay over until their father was released. Anne'd better be right.
It was late in the afternoon of the first day of the Regatta. Rose looked pale and absolutely spent. Her hair was starting to stick out of the bun on the back of her head and her fringe was everywhere except on her forehead. Her shawl had fallen down on her shoulders. Anne was in her Sunday best (which was now the black dress that she had bought with Mrs. Blacke) although she wore her regular shawl to cover her head, rather than the straw boater she wore on a Sunday. Her hair was in a neat long braid and still wet from her recent bath. But she looked miserable.
Rose stepped back after knocking and gave her sister a little smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Then when her mother was gone, the contact had slowly faded. Perhaps the missing had just been too painful to spend her scarce time and energy on reminders of her mother. She had met Mrs. Blacke in the market and other places sometimes, and they would talk briefly, but Rose would always come up with an excuse to leave before it would get too personal and she'd feel the need to cry. Even those encounters had stopped when Simon had tossed their family into near ruin and Rose had been forced to go to York to work. And after she had taken the job at Mr. Meijer's... She hadn't even dared to stop long on errands then. God forbid she should provoke that ogre's anger.
She hadn't run into Mrs. Blacke yet since getting married, and so here she was, knocking on the door to ask a favour of a woman she felt she wasn't close enough to to ask. But Anne had assured her she was on good terms with Mrs. Blacke and the woman would be delighted to let her stay over until their father was released. Anne'd better be right.
It was late in the afternoon of the first day of the Regatta. Rose looked pale and absolutely spent. Her hair was starting to stick out of the bun on the back of her head and her fringe was everywhere except on her forehead. Her shawl had fallen down on her shoulders. Anne was in her Sunday best (which was now the black dress that she had bought with Mrs. Blacke) although she wore her regular shawl to cover her head, rather than the straw boater she wore on a Sunday. Her hair was in a neat long braid and still wet from her recent bath. But she looked miserable.
Rose stepped back after knocking and gave her sister a little smile that didn't reach her eyes.
