I debated on whether to come back when her shift was over in the morning or to simply go to Mrs. Bunan's house and speak with both of them. Neither option was ideal. Nora would be exhausted and would presumably want to go home and sleep with no interference from some woman she didn't know. I was surprised that Mrs. Bunan hadn't said anything about her daughter being tired all the time. Perhaps her indication that she was out all night implied her being tired so when without saying. What I really wanted to know is why Nora hadn't told her mother she was working nights at a factory. I felt the need to know before telling Mrs. Bunan what was going on.
I returned to the area around eight the next morning, bearing a flask of tea and a basket of scones. Miss Bunan exited the factory at precisely 8:30 and began walking briskly towards her home. I followed and when we reached a place where a business had placed a bench for passersby to sit and rest, called out.
"Miss Bunan, Nora, stop. I need to talk to you."
She turned and frowned at me, obviously trying to decipher where she knew me from. She was five years younger than me, so probably didn't remember when we'd first met. Her mother had brought all her children to my mother's cart for dinner many times as we both grew up. I had been her first governess when Mrs. Bunan got sick one winter and Mother offered to take care of her children while she took care of herself.
"Miss Smith," she said at last. "What are you doing here at this time in the morning?"
"It's Mrs. Hall now. I just got married." I couldn't help but show off the simple gold band which had been Emory's grandmother's."
"Then it is extra strange you would be here instead of at home with your husband."
There was no reason to beat around the bush. "I'm here because your mother is worried about you. She realized you were sneaking away at night, but doesn't know why. Why didn't you tell her you're working another job?"
"Is that tea hot?" she asked, pointing at the flask.
I nodded and we sat together on the bench. I poured her some tea and handed her a lemon scone. She ate and drank in silence and I did my best to be patient.
"Do you know my dream?" she asked.
"To have your own dressmaking business," I said.
"Yes, and I'm not alone. My friend Margaret wants to start it with me, but we need money. We've both agreed to work as much as possible to have enough to start. I was going Mother, once we had some more put away. I didn't want to hear her reasons why we can't do it."
I sighed. "Do you want me to drop the case and let you tell her in your own time?" I asked.
"No, but I would like it if you talked to her with me."