Darkest Before Dawn Read Free

lamb,’ Seraphina pointed out, tipping vegetables into the sink. ‘ We know she’s perfectly safe, but Ma will worry, or she would if we told her Evie had skipped off. As it is, by the time Ma comes up for dinner, Evie will probably be back. I don’t think she has ever missed a meal except by accident. Are you going to give me a hand with the carrots, queen? They’ll need scraping and I’ve got all the spuds to scrub and the turnips to peel.’
    There was no sign of their father, so when the girls had finished preparing the family’s evening meal they decided to go out again, to discover what was showing at the Forum. It was just possible that their mother would wish to lavish some money on them that afternoon because they had shopped so successfully, and a visit to the cinema was always a treat.
    Martha Todd was serving a customer, carefully selecting the goods required from the shelves and placing them in a large cardboard box, when Mrs Wilmslow called. Martha hesitated, glancing around her. Usually, Mr Wilmslow would have gone through to see what his sick wife wanted, but today he had gone round to the warehouse to pick up some provisions and might not be back for an hour or more. Saturday was always a busy day and the grocery was well situated and popular with local housewives, so Mr Wilmslow employed two Saturday girls. They were sisters, Molly and Annie, but they had gone off to Rhyl for the day and Mr Wilmslow had taken it for granted that Seraphina and Angela would stand in for his missing employees. However, he had failed to warn Martha so she had sent the girls shopping, which placed her in a dilemma. Mrs Wilmslow was unable to do much for herself, and Martha would have liked to go straight through to the back to see what the older woman wanted, but with no one to watch the till, a large order only half made up and the shop full of would-be customers, she simply could not leave her post.
    Upstairs, Harry would be pottering round, doing nothing in particular. He had been suffering from a shocking cold earlier in the week and Mr Bister had sent him home on Thursday with orders not to return to work until Monday, and Martha knew he would be down in an instant if he knew how things stood. However, she dared not leave the shop to run up the outside stairs and ask for his help. The woman she was serving, Nellie Proudfoot, was not easy to deal with but she was one of Mr Wilmslow’s best customers, spending most if not all of her housekeeping in the shop. If Martha offended her, her employer would not be pleased, and though she had only worked for him for twelve weeks or so she already knew how important his business was to him. What was more, he had let them rent the flat for a very moderate sum provided she worked for him for an even more moderate one, so Martha had no desire to get into Mr Wilmslow’s bad books.
    Mrs Wilmslow called again and the next customer in the queue leaned across the counter. She was a fat, untidy woman with a bush of grey hair, a round and shining red face and a jutting, whiskery chin. Martha could not recall her name but knew she was another regular customer. ‘Eh up, missus, where’s old Wilmslow gone then?’ she said, drawing down the sides of her mouth. ‘Want me to give you an ’and whiles you nip back to see what she wants? I done it before, when the old skinflint found hisself wi’out an assistant . . . afore your time, that were.’
    â€˜Oh, Mrs – Mrs . . .’ the name came to her in a burst of happy inspiration, ‘oh, Mrs Bunwell, thank you ever so much.’ She eyed the woman’s bulk rather apprehensively. ‘Only – only I really could do with some help and Mr Todd would be down in a trice if he knew the fix I’m in. I wonder . . . could you possibly . . .’
    â€˜Mrs B. won’t never gerrup them steep old steps of yourn,’ another customer