Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Violet

Embroidered Flowers

Today, she decides not to think of goodbyes; she will think of reunions instead. She is leaving her shipmates, some of whom are now her friends, but she is going home, too; she will see her family again.

It is the prelude to the bank holiday weekend, and the train from Southampton to Waterloo is packed. She sits on her case until a young man with a smart Malacca cane offers her his seat. She does not know whether he needs the cane to walk or holds it just because he likes the feel and swish of it in his hand. But her knees are aching, so she takes the seat. He tells her he is going to stay with his sister in Putney, that they will be a gay party of ten, including his mother who makes the best summer pudding anyone has ever tasted. She knows this is not true about his mother, but when she sees him limp away from the train she is glad she did not tell him.

The best summer-pudding cook is waiting for her with the boys and her sister in an archway at the station. The boys are taller than she remembers but do their best to hide it by thrusting their hands deep in their pockets and looking at their boots. As they look down, her little sister stretches up as if checking she has remembered the position of every freckle on her face correctly. And so they stand until their mother grabs them and hugs them, knocking them against each other until they are jostled and bumped into the right size and mix once more.

Then the talking starts, and the words follow them through the streets, past boys selling newspapers, between carriages with gleaming, shifting horses and over the river that now seems like a stream compared to the seas she has crossed.

Once they are home, there are changes to exclaim over: a new lamp, a larger table, and a blue and white plate piled with fresh baked scones. There are presents to unpack from her case and a package to unwrap from her sister– a sampler sewn in colourful threads, welcoming her home, her name nestled in a bed of embroidered petals.