Evergreen Falls by Kimberley Freeman Read Free Book Online Page B

ladies in their fine gowns.”
    “I’d just be annoyed that I couldn’t wear a fine gown myself.” Violet had no intention of visiting Clive. He was her summer romance, and summer was long gone. Besides, all they’d shared were a few dances and one brief kiss. “You’ll survive without me,” she said.
    “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” he replied lightly. He said and did everything lightly. Even his hair and eyes were light, as though the sun were caught in them.
    Violet pulled her dress on over her wet bathing suit and headed towards the path that led to the train station. Her shoes and stockings were in her bag.
    “I’ll be leaving on the eight a.m. train from Central Station,” he called after her. “If you want to see me off.”
    “I have an early shift,” she called back. It wasn’t true, but it was easier than saying she wanted to avoid a farewell scene.
    “Good-bye, then,” Clive said.
    She waved, then picked up her pace.
    In the end, they were both right, curse them. Violet ran up the stairs from the room she shared with three other waitresses, still buttoning her uniform, curls damp, exactly ten minutes after her start time. Ada smiled smugly from the dining room, where she distributed white china plates to a table of businessmen.
    “You’re late,” said Mr. Palmer, her mealymouthed young boss.
    “Yes, I was unavoidably delayed. I’ll work back instead.”
    “Swimming. You were unavoidably delayed swimming.”
    “Did Ada tell you that?” Violet would knock her flat for such a betrayal.
    “No. Your wet hair told me. You look a disgrace, and I’m certainly not going to allow you in here to serve my best customers.” He indicated her blouse, which she saw was misbuttoned, the front gaping, and the world could see clear through to her singlet. “It’s over, Violet. You’re fired.”
    “No.” Sunshine and swimming and flirting with Clive all evaporated in her mind, and she was left only with the image of her poor mother, sewing with arthritic fingers. “Please. I’ll work back, I’ll try much harder.”
    “You’ve already had two warnings,” Mr. Palmer said, and he was telling the truth, but she wanted to argue with him anyway.
    “You can’t fire me!” she exclaimed, raising her voice until it took on a shrillness that even she couldn’t stand. “I’ll make a complaint to the hotel owner.”
    “Go right ahead,” he replied in a soft voice, turning away from her. “Be packed and gone by tomorrow at ten. Hand in your uniform as you leave. It’s halfway off you already.”
    Violet clutched at her blouse, desperate to say the very thing that would make him change his mind. Mama would be so disappointed with her. So very, very disappointed.
    *  *  *
    Violet couldn’t face Mama with no job. She simply couldn’t. She sat at the back of the tram, in the dark where she couldn’t be seen by other passengers, and cried. Wrapped in her misery, she nearly missed her stop but remembered just in time to pull the bell. She alighted two streets from where her mother worked as a laundress and seamstress for a wealthy family, the Ramseys, in Roseville. They had four children who were noisy, and one who was quiet and covered in teething hives and who was compelled to wear white socks over his hands to stop him scratching his sores raw. Mama received only her bed and board for her work, and relied on a little money from Violet to help out.
    Violet stopped a few doors away, her small suitcase and portable gramophone suddenly very heavy, and took a deep breath. “Mama, I lost my job,” she said under her breath. Mama would look sad, maybe make that tutting sound she made, ask what happened, and find a way to blame Violet. But she wouldn’t say, I rely on you, what will I do without that money? She was far too proud for that. Violet had to leave the money under the tea tin when her mother wasn’t looking. They never spoke of it. In fact, her mother often talked of the importance of