Chapter 81: Brand New

The clerk packed the shoes into a cardboard box, folded the coat, and placed them together in a paper bag.

Richard carried the paper bag in one hand and slung his schoolbag, which held the oil lamp, over one shoulder.

As he left the department store branch, a fine drizzle began to fall.

Briston's autumn rain fell fine and thick. Sheets of water streamed from the eaves, soaking the entire street.

He tucked the paper bag inside his coat to protect it, ducking his head as he hurried along.

By the time he reached the front door, the rain had soaked his hair, and a wet patch had seeped through the back of his shirt.

He pushed the door open. The sizzle of a frying pan drifted from the kitchen.

Evelyn stood at the stove in her apron, frying hash browns. She worked the spatula with deft flips.

"You're back? Why are you so wet?" she asked, turning her head with the spatula poised in midair.

"It's raining."

"Didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"It wasn't raining when I left."

Evelyn curled her lip and slid the fried hash browns onto a plate.

Richard set his schoolbag on the low stool by the door.

The oil lamp was too heavy to set down carelessly. He bent to make sure the bag was steady before straightening up.

"What's that you're carrying?" His sister's gaze fell on the large paper bag in his hand.

"Something good."

"Like what?"

"For you."

Evelyn dropped the spatula into the pan and hurried over, not even untying her apron.

Richard placed the paper bag on the dining table and untied the string.

He opened the paper bag, revealing gray-blue tweed.

Evelyn's hand hovered in midair, not touching it right away.

"This is..."

"A coat for you." Richard pulled out the cardboard box too. "And the shoes we talked about."

He popped the lid off the box. A pair of dark chestnut ankle boots lay neatly in the tissue paper.

Evelyn stood at the edge of the table, clutching the corners of her apron with both hands.

The girl looked at the coat and shoes, then turned to her brother. "You used your competition prize money?"

"Only six shillings." He blinked, deliberately underreporting the price by two shillings.

"Six shillings is still money!" Evelyn's voice rose over the crackling oil in the pan.

She went back to the stove, shut off the heat, and turned around with her hands on her hips.

"Why buy clothes for me? Your shirt collar is frayed and you haven't changed it."

"I don't really care," Richard said casually.

Evelyn opened her mouth, then swallowed the words back down.

She looked back at the things on the table.

She could tell the quality of the coat's cut at a glance. The shoulders were straight, the cuff width was just right, and the fabric felt thick and solid.

The shoes were even more obvious. With their thick soles and wool lining, they were clearly sturdy goods that would last several winters.

He had definitely lied about the price. There was no way a coat and boots like these could be bought for six shillings altogether.

"How did you know my size?" she asked, not calling him out on it.

"When you wear my socks, they're exactly one size too big. I deduced it from that."

Evelyn took a boot out of the box, turned it over in her hands, and slipped her right foot inside.

Her toes weren't cramped against the front, the arch fit perfectly, and the opening rested just above her ankle, neither too loose nor too tight.

She took two steps. The sole made a crisp tapping sound against the kitchen floor tiles.

"...It's a perfect fit."

"That's good."

Evelyn put on the other boot and walked back and forth in the kitchen a few times.

She picked the coat up from the table, shook it out, pulled it on, and walked over to the full-length mirror in the hallway.

In the mirror, the gray-blue tweed made her brown hair look very bright.

The tailored waist gave her a neat, clean silhouette, and the turned-up collar perfectly shielded the back of her neck, the spot most vulnerable to the cold.

Evelyn turned a circle to the left in front of the mirror, then a circle to the right.

"Richard, does it look good?" she called out toward the kitchen.

"Look in the mirror and see for yourself."

"I am looking! I'm asking if you think it looks good."

"Of course it looks good. Would something I bought look bad?"

"...Could you not be so dismissive?"

Richard walked out of the kitchen holding a teacup. He leaned against the doorframe, watching his sister pose back and forth in front of the mirror.

Wearing her new coat and boots, Evelyn looked no different from the girls in fashion magazines.

The gray-blue fabric perfectly complemented her fair skin, brown hair, and gray eyes. She looked stunning.

Looking at his sister's smiling face, any lingering gloom in Richard's heart completely dissipated.

"You can fold the collar down," he said, taking a sip of tea. "When it's not too cold, it looks better folded down."

Evelyn folded the collar down, then popped it back up.

Folded down, popped back up. Folded down, popped back up.

"Stop folding it, or you're going to ruin the collar."

Evelyn finally stopped. She took one last look in the mirror.

She slowly unfastened the four horn buttons, took the coat off, and folded it neatly.

"Richard."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"But in the future, could you let me know before you spend money?"

Richard chuckled and put his teacup back in the kitchen.

Evelyn walked upstairs holding the folded coat, turning back around at the landing.

"Richard."

"What is it now?"

"Your shirt really needs to be replaced. I'll sort one out for you tomorrow."

"No need."

"You have to. You're someone with a bit of standing now. Second place in the Cicero Cup, and you're going to be a tutor soon. What would you look like going around dressed in rags?"

Instinctively, Richard wanted to say, What does it matter to you what I wear?

But his brain caught up, and he swallowed the overly hurtful words.

Besides, his sister's logic made sense.

He would soon be taking tutoring jobs through the Classical Society's recommendation list. In front of those wealthy families, dressing respectably was a basic requirement.

"...Alright, take a look for me."

Evelyn gave a satisfied nod and headed upstairs with the coat.

Her footsteps thumped across the floorboards overhead for a moment, followed by the sound of a wardrobe door opening and closing.

She was probably finding a good spot to hang her new coat.

In the kitchen, Richard heated up the leftover hash browns and ate them with his tea.

A little while later, the footsteps sounded again. The girl came downstairs in her new boots.

The tap-tap-tap sound made its way from the stairs to the kitchen doorway.

"Why did you put them back on?"

"To see if they're suitable for doing housework."

"Washing dishes in new boots?"

"Shoes are meant to be worn. Keeping them in a box won't make them fit better on their own."

As she spoke, she tied her apron back around her waist, walked over to the sink, and started scrubbing the pan.

The soles of the new boots tapped out a steady, rhythmic beat on the wet kitchen tiles.

Richard watched his sister washing dishes in her apron and new boots, feeling that those eight shillings had been very well spent.

A while later, Father returned home from work, smelling of coal ash.

Mother woke up as well. She looked a little better than she had that morning, though her voice was still raspy.

Evelyn was wearing the new boots while she set the table, and Mother was the first to notice.

"Evelyn, are those boots on your feet new?"

"Mhm."

"Where did the money come from?"

Evelyn used her spoon to point across the table at Richard, who had his head down drinking soup.

Mother glanced at her son and said nothing.

Father, however, lowered his newspaper.

"There's a coat, too," Evelyn chimed in.

"How much in total?"

"Six shillings."

Father did the math in his head and felt something was off. His lips moved, but in the end, he only picked up his teacup and took a sip, tacitly letting it go.

The dining table fell quiet for a moment.

Mother pushed a plate of pickled cucumbers in front of Richard. "What about you? Do you need a new shirt?"

"Evelyn's going to help me look tomorrow."

Evelyn mumbled an agreement, her mouth stuffed with bread.

"You two really have it all figured out." Mother coughed lightly, but her eyes held a smile.