Miriam edged forward, her attention caught by the door to the garden. “May I go outside?”
“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I’ve set the kettle to boil. Key’s in the lock, so just give it a turn.”
Miriam stepped into the garden and, for an instant, was stunned by the riot of color and scent that greeted her. It was, as Ann had said, quite small, with a modest patch of lawn in the center and a low shed in the far corner. Everything else was flowers.
An arching lilac, its plumy blossoms faded, dominated one corner. A climbing rose clambered across the fence, its sturdy canes intertwined with a tangle of clematis, its feet obscured by a shaggy mound of lavender. And in the middle of the main flower bed there was a peony, still flowering though it was well into July.
She reached out, her hand trembling, and let her fingertips brush against its petals. The scent was heavenly, like roses but even sweeter. It had been so long since she’d seen a peony in bloom.
Ann had come into the garden. “Can you believe it’s still going? My neighbor gave it to me a few years ago. It was a division from one he’s had for years. I can’t remember the name.”
“‘Monsieur Jules Elie.’ My mother had one.” Her voice was calm, yet she had to blink back tears. How silly to cry over a flower.
“It sulked for ages. This is the first year it’s agreed to put on a show. But then, everything is happy this summer. Endless heat and plenty of rain, too. And I was worried, I’ll tell you, after the winter we had. I was sure I’d lose half— Oh, there’s the kettle.”
Miriam followed her inside, though she’d have given almost anything to remain in the garden, and watched as Ann filled a teapot with water from the kettle.
“There. Let’s leave that to brew while I show you the upstairs.”
The staircase was steep and narrow and led to a small landing with two doors. Ann opened one and beckoned for Miriam to follow. “Here we are. Milly left her furniture, since it was too dear to send it all the way to Canada. I hope you like it.”
The bedroom was enormous, at least four meters square, and held a large double bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a side table. There was even a small upholstered chair in the corner. The furniture, chair excepted, was a matching suite of veneered wood in a modern, streamlined shape. Not precisely to her taste, but what did it matter? It was a hundred times nicer than her horrid little room at the pension.
“What do you think?” Ann asked. “Nice, isn’t it?”
“It is. You are certain you wish for me to have this room?”
“Of course. I like my view over the garden, and I’m used to my things being where they are. It would be ever such a fuss to switch things around.”
She turned to Ann. “I would like to take the room.”
“Oh, thank heavens. That is such a weight off my mind.” The other woman’s smile was wide and heartfelt, and it was hard not to feel her own spirits rise in accord. “Come on downstairs and we’ll work everything out over a cup of tea.”
Miriam sat at the kitchen table while Ann set out the tea things: a homely brown teapot, its spout chipped, a pair of rose-sprigged cups and saucers from the dresser, a little pitcher of milk, and two shining silver teaspoons.
“You take your tea with milk, right? I do have some sugar.”
“Simply the milk. Thank you.”
Ann fixed her own tea, drank deeply from her cup, and set it back on its saucer. “So. Like I said before, it’ll be fifteen bob a week. Shillings, that is. And we can split the cost of food, if you like, and pool our rations.”
“I think I would like that. Although I am not a very good cook,” Miriam admitted.
“Really? A proper Frenchwoman like you?” Ann teased. “Never you mind. I’m not much of a cook either. We’ll rub along somehow. As for the cleaning, I try to keep things neat during the week, then on Saturday, after I’ve done the marketing, I give everything a good going-over. It’s a small house, so it only takes a few hours.”
“Of course I will help you with that.”
“Thanks. I will say I don’t do the laundry, except for small things I can wash by hand. My undies and such. The rest I take to Mrs. Cole round the corner. She does a good job and never sends me home with someone else’s sheets. Runs between one and two bob a week.”
Miriam nodded, though she was still trying to add up the total in her head. There wouldn’t be much left of her wages at the end of each week, true, but she would be living in great comfort, and Ann was pleasant and friendly.