her skirt she bustled over to May and peered at her over the top of her glasses. May could smell something faintly farinaceous.
“Well now! Here you are. Nat’s cousins! And let me say we are very happy to have you here in Oak Street, aren’t we, Sarah? Aren’t we, Simon? Simon, are you paying attention to me?”
“This is Mrs. Rachel Greenfeld, my mother-in-law; Simon, my father-in-law; and my wife, Sarah,” Nat began.
“Was it rough on the boat?” Nat’s mother-in-law interrupted, her grey bun pinned in a graceful coil at the back of her head. “And was the coach on time? I hope your mother packed you both off with a lot of warm clothes and a nice flask for a hot drink. I expect you could all do with a nice cup of tea. Simon, put the kettle on at once, Simon. Did you hear me, Simon? These children are half-dead with thirst, I shouldn’t wonder. Now then, did your mother warn you that it’s very cold here in England? Did you tell your aunt to warn them, Nat?”
Rachel tapped her neatly laced shoe on the floor as she spoke, as if keeping time with the rhythm of her own speech. Her questions came like bubbles popping from a child’s blowpipe, with one bursting into the air only to be replaced at once by another.
“Well, tell me, May, what was the food like on the ship, Sam? Not enough of it by the look of you both! Well you won’t have to worry about quantity in this house!”
Sarah sat quietly, occasionally rolling her eyes at her father and husband as she watched two strangers encountering her mother’s inquisitive but affectionate volubility for the first time.
“You look peaky, Sam. Simon, doesn’t Sam look peaky? Come over here by the fire and warm yourself, my boy. You don’t look so bad, May. Got a bit of colour on you, I’m glad to say. Still, come over here near the heat. Now, is that kettle on, Simon?”
As Rachel continued to interrogate them, May noticed Sarah smoothing down the neat waistline of her dress. For as long as she could remember, May had watched the young women in the plantation fields, their pregnancies advancing gradually to a size that made it uncomfortable for them to bend their distended bodies over the sugarcane without splaying their legs. The absence of even the hint of a swell convinced May that Sarah was still dreaming of the day when she might have a child of her own.
The Greenfeld and Castor’s house was the showcase of the street. Number 52 had been one of the first to be connected to electricity, and the chrome plate warmer was displayed on the sideboard with as much fanfare as a cup awarded to the comeliest cow at a country show. The house was fit to burst with possessions accumulated over many years but it was neat, aromatic and well ordered, like a baker’s tray of buns. The front door opened directly onto the front room where an ironwork basket on the hearth of a blue-and-white tiled fireplace was filled with a hillock of coal, shining black-red with heat. Rachel had returned to her position on the hearth and May could see the lace edge of her petticoat peeping out from beneath her skirt. Arranged around the fireplace was a mottled leather three-piece suite and on either side were a couple of lumpy armchairs covered in a brown matte material speckled with pink flowers. A large chestnut wood wireless sat prominently on a low table between the chairs and on the wall hung two shelves full of books.
“Come and see the rest of the house while we wait for the kettle to boil,” Nat said, leading May and Sam next door.
A schoolroom table, covered with a dark green velvet cloth with thick fringed edges, was laid for tea at one end while neatly arranged at the other were the tools of Sarah’s trade. Several pairs of polished scissors, a collection of pink hedgehog-spiked rollers, a variety of different size hairbrushes, a silvery tin marked “bleach” in handwritten letters and a couple of razors were all laid out in precise lines. Along the back of one shelf was a display of beautifully coiffured wigs, waiting for their owners to come and reclaim them from their wooden stands. A small mirror fixed at eye level to the wall opposite a comfortable-looking chair with armrests completed Sarah’s salon. The whole effect smacked of efficiency. The