Pip rolled her eyes, mocking herself, but Evelyn just sat still in her chair and didn’t react. It was really disconcerting, this lack of response, but Pip had started now, so she might as well just keep talking.
‘When I got to bar school it was even worse,’ she continued. ‘Most of the other students had been to private school. They had this air about them, this inner confidence. I understand now that it comes from being told you’re the best and can do anything you want from a very young age, but at the time I just thought they were better than me. So that made me even more determined to get myself on a par with them.’
Pip felt her cheeks start to pinken. It sounded so shallow when she said it out loud, but it had been so important to her younger self. Fitting into her surroundings had been vital in order to thrive.
‘At home they’d always called me Pip. I didn’t mind. In fact, I never even thought about it. It was just my name, you know. But in London, where I was surrounded by Louisas and Tamsins, Pip suddenly sounded very childish. Rose is my middle name so about three weeks into the course I decided to switch. It felt more polished, more suited to the person I was trying to be . . .’
Pip paused, and looked towards Evelyn sheepishly. ‘It sounds so silly now,’ she confessed. ‘Superficial and . . . Well, anyway, at the time it felt very important.’
Evelyn’s expression altered minutely, and Pip had the impression that she was with her, that she understood.
‘You were reinventing yourself,’ Evelyn said, and Pip nodded urgently. That was exactly it. Evelyn had hit the nail on the head.
‘Don’t we all do that,’ Evelyn continued, ‘to a greater or lesser extent? Not everyone goes as far as to change their name to shed their old skin, though many do, but trying to become something new is a human affliction.’
Evelyn stroked her hand over the diary as she spoke, as if she were gaining an inner strength from touching it. Perhaps she understood, Pip thought. She had also fled her home to begin something new, but she hadn’t tried to hide where she came from, as far as Pip knew. Evelyn seemed to have an integrity that Pip’s name-changing story showed she lacked.
‘Well, my parents weren’t that impressed with my decision,’ Pip continued. ‘My mum thought I’d changed my name because I was ashamed of them.’
‘But you were, weren’t you?’ asked Evelyn, her pale eyes focused so exactly on Pip’s that she had to look away for a moment. ‘Isn’t that precisely why you did it?’
Pip’s insides twisted, but then she wrinkled her nose and sighed. ‘Yes. I suppose so.’
‘And now you’ve gone back to Pip?’
Pip hesitated. Had she? Had she metamorphosed into a butterfly only to find herself slipping back to being a caterpillar once again?
She shrugged. ‘It’s easier to be Pip at home. Mum and Dad can’t get the hang of Rose and, well, Mum seems to think it means she’s got her daughter back.’
‘And when you go back to London?’ asked Evelyn. Pip noticed that she showed no doubt that would happen.
‘My professional name is Rose,’ she replied simply.
‘And what should I call you?’ Evelyn asked, her head cocked to one side.
Did this mean, Pip wondered, that there would be further conversations? She felt a giddy rush of excitement at the prospect.
‘You must choose,’ she replied, and Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
‘I asked for that, I suppose,’ she said with a smile, and Pip relaxed.
Now it was Evelyn’s turn to tell her a truth. Pip sat back, mentally if not physically, and waited for what was to come next.
‘I must get on now,’ Evelyn said, getting laboriously to her feet. ‘I have matters that I need to attend to.’
Pip’s heart sank. No, she wanted to say; we’ve only just begun, and you haven’t told me anything at all about you and your story! And on top of that, she had handed over the diary, so she had no bargaining chip left.
‘But I would like it very much if you would call on me again, Philippa Rose. I feel that we have still a lot of story to be told.’
Pip grinned, unable to keep her delight from her face. ‘I’d love that,’ she said. ‘I meant it when I said I was interested in your acting career.’
‘Shall we say Wednesday?’ Evelyn asked.
‘I could come in the afternoon,’ replied Pip, her mind already working out what she would tell Audrey. She was only a volunteer in the shop, but she didn’t want to let anyone down.