The Watercress Girls Read Online Free

EMPIRE EMPORIUM, PROPRIETOR, R. FULLILOVE, BARBICAN.
    Mr Parry opened the rear doors and made room for her luggage among the packages already stacked in the back of the van. He turned to Mattie. ‘There is a step up,’ he advised her, as he settled into the driving seat, ‘I must make a couple of deliveries on our way back. My stepfather insists I make the best use of my time.’
    Oh, does he! Mattie thought. What about me, weary after my journeying ? She said aloud, ‘He keeps you busy, then, Mr Fullilove?’
    Mr Parry grimaced ruefully. ‘He does indeed. Well, what is your first impression of Plymouth, Miss Rowley?’
    ‘Mattie, please! We are cousins, after all.’
    ‘I should tell you, Mattie, that actually we are not. My late mother married Mr Fullilove when I was a child. She was his housekeeper, aposition she took on after she was widowed. I was sent away to boarding school when my mother died. I didn’t come home for the holidays . I didn’t really mind that, because, as you will soon discover, my stepfather is a hard man. His present wife, my stepmother, is your actual relative, your second cousin, Sybil. She had money at the time; I guess that’s why old Rufus married her, to save the emporium. That’s an anachronism, since the war changed the world.
    ‘You’ll like Syb, I think. When I returned to Plymouth and reluctantly began work in the store she was kind and persuaded me to stay. My own inclination was to study art.’
    Mattie bit her lip. ‘You asked for my first thoughts on Plymouth. Well, it is so different from any place I have been before, I really can’t be sure. It is very historic, of course. Particularly the Hoe. It’s nice to know I’ll be able to walk there and look out over the sea. I understand you can see miles of coastline from the cliffs. May I call you by your first name? Even if we aren’t cousins, I can see I shall need a friend!’
    ‘I was known as Griff at school. My real father was Welsh.’
    Hence the dark and brooding looks, Mattie thought. He was a typical Celt.
    The van drew to a stop outside an imposing house whose front door was flanked by marble columns. ‘My first delivery. I shan’t be long.’
    Mattie had time to collect her thoughts. She was, she suspected, the latest in the long line of impecunious girls to leave her family. She could well languish, far from home.

Three
    ‘ W e’re here,’ Griff announced. He signalled with his raised open palm to a following motor as they drew to a halt outside another imposing Georgian house in a residential street.
    He turned to Mattie. ‘This is the Fullilove pile! Rather grand, isn’t it? But mortgaged to the hilt, I suspect. Old Rufus is more concerned with importing luxury goods from the Empire and the Continent, despite dwindling sales. Sybil brought her maid with her, shrewd lady. She didn’t intend to follow in my poor mother’s footsteps.’
    ‘Stop trying to put me off.’ Mattie was quick to ‘fly’ as Aunt Mary put it.
    Griff smiled disarmingly. ‘I’m only trying to prepare you for what lies ahead.’
    The door was opened by a tiny woman, who at first sight appeared to be a young girl. Closer to, Mattie took in a rosy, wrinkled face and twinkling blue eyes. Her slight figure was almost swamped by her black dress and neat white apron. On her silvery hair, the maid had pinned rather rakishly her badge of office, a frilled cap.
    When she spoke, it became obvious that Sybil’s maid was a Londoner, born and bred. ‘Miss Rowley, do come in. Miss Sybil – Mrs Fullilove – is in the drawing-room. I’ll take you upstairs first. Have a tidy-up and come down when you’re ready.’
    ‘This is Hilda Bunn,’ Griff said in Mattie’s ear. ‘She’s a real good sort.’
    ‘I heard that!’ Hilda beamed. ‘Griff, you can follow us with the luggage.’
    A little later she ushered Mattie into the drawing-room, announcing: ‘Miss Rowley.’
    Sybil was not at all as Mattie had imagined. She was possibly