Rose's Rush Hour.

Chapter Seven

Ed opted to ride a coach to the Vaughn Household on Sunday, and I obliged because she was paying for it. It was also because I didn’t want to carry the basket of eggs all the way there. My mother always gave the Vaughn household eggs when the tray at home filled up. Yes, there was a poultry pen at home. It kept Jerry busy.

I had worn a cream coloured long sleeved dress. It had a square neckline and patterns of green branches over it. I also wore my brown strappy sandals. Ed had worn tweed trousers with braces plus a white button-up shirt. She also wore a tweed beret over her head and brown laced up boots. I’d chosen some golden bangles and pearl studs as accessories while she only wore black studs coupled with her wristwatch.

We chatted during the ride until the coach came to a stop. Ed stepped out first and took my hand to help me down. She then paid the coachman.

The Vaughn house was a simple grey and white two storey building with a small front yard barricaded by a white picket fence. There weren’t any trees up front, but there was a flowerbed on the right side of the lawn. A stone path led up to the terrace, but also split sideways into an attached shed where the bicycles were kept.

“Maybe we can ask to ride their bicycles later,” Ed suggested as we walked along the path.

“Don’t even joke about that,” I warned her.

The last thing I needed was Callum’s parents finding out we were criminals. That is, if they didn’t already know.

I really hoped they didn’t. No parent would want their child to be friends with a girl who had been in lockup.

We had just climbed up the terrace steps when the doors opened and a red haired woman stepped out – Mrs. Vaughn. She wore a checked apron over her beige dress, and a small pale yellow scarf tied back over her wavy fiery red hair.

“I heard the coach arrive and figured it must be our guests for the day,” she chirped with a big smile that made her green eyes sparkle. “Welcome!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vaughn!” Ed and I replied at the same time, then exchanged greetings. I made to take off my shoes, but Mrs. Vaughn assured us it was alright and let us come in wearing our shoes.

I handed her the basket of eggs and she looked at me with eyes of sentimental gratitude.

“Tell your mother we’re always grateful for the helping hand,” she said softly.

I smiled back. “You know it’s no problem.”

“Make yourselves at home while we finish up the lunch preparations,” Mrs. Vaughn ushered us into the sitting room, then at the top of her lungs, she hollered, “Boys! Our guests are here!”

She was definitely louder than Ed.

Mrs. Vaughn gave us one last sweet smile before heading off into what I presumed was the kitchen. Ed and I sat on a settee while I observed the photographs hanging on the walls. Not long after, two young men came down the stairs and into the room.

They were both gingers and about the same height, except one had long hair in a bun and a stubble, while the other had short hair and a clean shaven jaw. They looked just like Mrs. Vaughn except for their prominent muscular build. It was evident from their fitting long sleeves and trousers.

Abraham was the one with long hair, and the eldest son. He worked as a cobbler and shoe maker at ‘The Reginald Boys.’ Benjamin, the second born, worked with his father in carpentry. He was the one I usually found at the shop.

“Well lookee here,” Abraham boomed in his deep voice. “The tomboy and the flower.”

Ed and I stood up to greet them.