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“Eleanor? Where’s the basket?”
Eleanor looked around, trying not to squeeze the stem of the dead rose in her hand. Even with gloves on, the thorns hurt. Then she saw the basket just behind her.
“Oh, it’s here. Do you need it?”
Marion Laurie snorted as she approached.
“You know I do.” She dropped her dead roses into the basket with a sigh. “We need another basket. Either that or get rid of a few rose bushes.”
“We can’t afford another basket right now.” Eleanor pointed out. “And Father loves these rose bushes. You know he won’t be happy if we cut one down for convenience.”
Marion sighed. “Well, I suppose we’re going to have to cope with one basket while we dead-head four rose bushes.”
“We could make a basket ourselves,” Eleanor suggested, snipping another dead rose before dropping it into the basket. “I know someone who makes wicker baskets. It would be useful.”
They were going to need to become self-sufficient sooner rather than later. With their money woes putting them in dire straits, Eleanor knew it would be only a matter of time before there was nothing. They would need to use their wits to keep themselves afloat.
As it was, they had to let the gardener go. They could afford a few servants - for now - but not a gardener. Which was why Eleanor and Marion were out here looking after the garden at the front of the house. Eleanor didn’t mind; it kept her busy and she got to wave and greet people as they went past. It was a nice enough day for it. She just wished people weren’t aware of their financial situation. Her father made a fool of himself every time he went out to gamble. Everyone seemed to know about it by morning. It was embarrassing.
At least one person was standing by her for certain. Marion had been the daughter of Eleanor’s governess. Eleanor was a little older, but the two of them had become fast friends. Marion was tall with raven-black hair, just like Eleanor. They were close friends, but they often got mistaken for sisters. Eleanor did see Marion like a sister. She could share absolutely anything with her. Even their mothers had teased about Eleanor and Marion being sisters.
Now their mothers were gone, along with Marion’s father, and the only parent left between them was a drunk who loved to throw his money away on a game he couldn’t play, all because he saw a chance to get more money.
If only one of their mothers was still alive. It would help a lot if there was a voice of reason around right now.
“If only we could have a power of attorney to monitor the money,” Eleanor said, looking at the secateurs in her hand. “But Father would find a way around it.”
“How bad is it?” Marion asked.
Eleanor grimaced. There was no one near them, but Eleanor still lowered her voice.
“Let’s put it this way: he came home last night, long after I did. I thought he was in his room. All of us did. But then he slammed his way into the house, drunk as usual.” Eleanor scowled. “After he promised not to go out and Parsons locked the doors and windows.”
“Then how did he get out?”
“Parsons and I looked around this morning. He was as confused as I was. The window in the study had been jimmied open.”
Marion stared. “He broke out of his own home to go gambling? That’s just desperate.”
“It’s an addiction for him, Marion.” Eleanor shook her head. “Father won’t admit that it’s an addiction. I hate that he’s consumed by it and he promises to be good, but it’s just getting worse.”
Marion looked worried. She shuffled from foot to foot. “What are you going to do?”
Eleanor had been thinking about it most of the night. It had resulted in very little sleep, but Eleanor hadn’t been able to turn off her thoughts to rest. Her father’s health was more important than her sleep.
“My Aunt Brenda lives in Cornwall. She’s staunchly against drink and it’s isolated down there with just a few neighbours. Wealthy, but they’re all sensible people. I’m going to write to her and ask if we can come and stay for a while.” Eleanor paused. “Mostly for my Father than for myself. Because if he stays here, we won’t have a house anymore.”
“But what about the servants?” Marion asked. “You and me? What will happen to us?”
Eleanor could see Marion was more worried about Eleanor than she was about herself. That was Marion all over; she was selfless. Kind and selfless. Since Marion had come of age, she had been a companion for Eleanor, and Eleanor was grateful. She didn’t trust many people, but Marion was first in line. She reached out and took Marion’s hand.
“We’ll think of something, Marion. Chances are we’re going to have to let everyone go. If we have enough between us, we could probably find somewhere to rent, but it’s more than likely we’re going to have to leave London to find something affordable.”
“I suppose.” Marion shook her head sadly. “This is a mess.”
“I know, but we’ll figure it out. I’m sure Sister Cecilia and the other nuns will be able to help us.”
