Page 130 of The Sisters of Sea View
“My dear friend. If anyone snubs us, I shall give them double. But in all honesty, if anyone stares, they are most likely staring at me.”
The woman’s downcast mouth hitched up at one corner. “We make quite a team, don’t we?”
Viola’s heart warmed. “We do indeed.”
A short while later, they rolled down the High Street together.
Mrs. Denby called out, “Not so fast! I want to take it all in!”And when they sloshed through a lingering puddle, she giggled like a girl.
Reaching theYof Fore Street and Back Street, Viola asked, “Which way?”
Mrs. Denby hesitated, then replied, “Let’s go left.”
They rolled past the London Inn and shops on Fore Street, pausing to look at a few window displays.
Passing a secondhand shop, Viola stopped at the window, her attention arrested by a display of cast-off spectacles.
“Look,” she said. “Have you ever worn spectacles?”
“Never had the money.”
“Let’s go in. Just to try them on. It will be diverting, if nothing else.”
“If you like.”
Thankfully the door to the secondhand shop was just wide enough to permit the Bath chair to pass through. Inside, they maneuvered their way past cluttered shelves to the window display.
Viola picked up a quizzing glass, a single lens held by hand. She parroted the affected voice of a London dandy. “I say, what exquisite company. Have you ever seen such well-turned-out ladies?”
Mrs. Denby chuckled and picked up a lorgnette, a pair of hand-held spectacles on a stick. She positioned it to her eyes and said in tones of grandeur, “Shall we go to the opera, my lady?”
Viola clapped her hands. “Well done.” She attempted a pair of nose spectacles that pinched rather sharply, while Mrs. Denby tried on a frame with oval lenses, sliding the arm pieces over her ears.
“These are rather good, actually.” The old woman peered through them at the price tag on the lorgnette. “I can read better. And well enough to see I shan’t afford these.”
“Those you are wearing are not so expensive.” Viola glanced again at the handwritten price tag. “And if they will help you see...?”
“Sadly, my girl, I haven’t even that much.”
“Well then, I shall just have to find another client to read to.”
Mrs. Denby shook her head. “Don’t do that. I won’t have you thinking I want your money. It’s your company I treasure.”
Viola pressed her hand. “And I yours.”
They moved on.
Soon they reached a short cross street, which ended at the brick market house, topped by a ball and weathercock. There they looked at some of the stalls. They bought two iced buns, with a promise not to tell Sarah, along with several ripe plums, which they ate there and then, the sweet juice dribbling down their chins. After wiping away the evidence with a handkerchief, they continued on their way.
As they left the marketplace, Viola pointed out Broadbridge’s Boarding House, explaining it was owned and managed by a friend.
When they reached the end of the street, Viola again asked, “Which way?”
The old woman hesitated, then said, “Let’s brave Back Street.”
“Bravo.”
They turned up the narrower street, where stood the post office and Mrs. Tremlett, wine merchant, opposite. Shops and tradesmen lined both sides, with lodgings above and the Old Ship Inn at its end.
