Dressed by Iris by Mary-Anne O'Connor

Dressed by Iris by Mary-Anne O'Connor

Author:Mary-Anne O'Connor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQ Fiction
Published: 2022-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Twenty-Six

Iris lugged the bags of groceries home with her mother but she didn’t complain at their weight. Saturday was always grocery day and Agnes had managed to scrounge together enough money to fill their stores for now, however plain or second rate the fare may be. It was getting harder to feed the growing appetites in the house decent cuts of meat, and Agnes had taken her time at the butcher, counting each coin worriedly. She’d opted for ham bones and rabbit again and offcuts of beef for mincing. Bruised fruit and vegetables were cheaper and flour less expensive if you bought it in bulk too, hence the heavy loads. Still, she and Helena had smaller bags to carry than their mother who always gave herself the heaviest ones, including the potatoes. Iris eyed it, guiltily.

‘You really should let me carry that one, Mum.’

‘Nonsense. It’s good exercise. Besides, you’re still recovering – it’s only been a week since you were hurt.’

‘I’m fine…’

‘Uh-uh!’ Agnes said, putting an end to any more argument. ‘Now, tell me what movie you’re all off to see this afternoon.’

‘It’s called Possessed,’ Helena told her excitedly, ‘starring Clark Gable and Joan Crawford. I loved her in Dance, Fools, Dance.’

‘Oh, that sounds like quite a cast. And is John Tucker still meeting you there?’

‘Yes,’ Iris said, blushing, ‘and Natasha. Jim and Tom are going too.’

Agnes nodded and Iris knew her mother was worried.

‘Just as friends,’ Agnes stated. That was the condition on which Iris had been allowed to go with him and she rushed to reassure her mother.

‘Yes. Only as friends.’

‘Well then, that makes a nice party of things,’ Agnes said, and Iris could have hugged her. ‘So, what’s it about?’ Agnes said as they crested the big hill where the best houses sat in their pretty gardens.

‘Some romance or other, but I’m far more interested in the fashion,’ Iris told her, ‘especially that Joan Crawford. She has such good taste; mind you, she has a wonderful designer in Gilbert Adrian.’

‘What about that gown she wore in the dance movie?’ Helena said.

‘The one with the stars along the hem or the gold one in the poster?’

‘The gold.’

‘Oh yes, I love that, although the one with the nipped-in waist and thin belt with capped sleeves was so sleek. I was working on a similar design yesterday.’

‘Were you?’ Helena said. ‘What colour?’

‘I went for blue but I might make another in a silver or gold fabric. What do you think, Mum?’ Iris turned, hoping to enthuse her mother on the unpopular subject of her new job, but Agnes wasn’t there. ‘Mum?’

She looked behind them to find her mother standing stock still, staring at number eleven at the very top of their street. It had a To Let sign and the girls walked back to look at it too. It was a large house for this part of Hurstville, with a wide verandah that wrapped all the way around, and Iris supposed there must be several bedrooms inside. There was a



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