From an early age, and after discovering he would never be a successful musician, Owen began working at Cartwright & Phillips Musical Instruments in Knightsbridge. He quickly became the shop’s most successful salesman, and by the age of thirty he had bought out the aging owners, but kept the name as it was so well known astheplace to purchase quality musicalinstruments.
Owen dreamed of having a son who might become a virtuoso in the London musical world. But he ended up with three daughters—lovely as the days of spring—but restricted by their sex in the all-male world of British classical music. But he was undeterred and proceeded to train his daughters as musicians with the idea of creating a successfultrio.
The family lived in a tidy, modest Georgian-style house in Knightsbridge on a quiet side street not far from theshop.
Breakfast was always a hectic affair. There was no set time, and the family members arrived if and when they felt like it. Except that Mother was usuallyfirst.
Teresa, who loved to read, would be early and sit at the table drinking tea and nibbling from her plate while engrossed in the latest novel. She wore thick eyeglasses and was hunched over as she turned the pages with her greasyfingers.
Teresa was the plainest of the sisters. Today she had her hair parted down the middle braided and coiled on either side of her head. She gave little attention to her appearance and wore no blush, rouge, or lipstick. Occasionally her mother would come over and pinch her cheeks in an effort to get a little color inthem.
Papa was usually the next to arrive, as he needed to open the shop, and liked to be early so he could get a little work done in the back office before he was inundated withcustomers.
He came in this morning and sat down as Molly, their only domestic besides the cook, poured histea.
Owen looked up and glowered at his plaindaughter.
“How are you ever going to be a first-class performer looking like that?” hegroused.
Teresa blankly looked up, still in the world of her novel. “Papa, what are you talking about? How do Ilook?”
“Like a bedraggled, rain-soakedcat.”
Teresa pushed up her eyeglasses that had scooted down her nose and stared at him like he was speakingTurkish.
“I am not wet,” she replied blandly. “I have no idea what you are talkingabout.”
Emily was the next to breeze into the dining room, quickly followed by Ruth who was fiddling with the lace on her left sleeve. Ruth had lovely auburn hair and green eyes with a fair, milky complexion. She resembled her mother more than the other twogirls.
“I do not suppose anyone has a needle and cotton do you? I must have caught my sleeve on that infernal stair railing again,” Ruth said as she sat at her place at thetable.
“Not at breakfast, dear,” Mother said. “Change your dress after breakfast and give it to Molly tomend.”
Ruth sighed as she sat down. “Iwill do it. Molly always takesforever.”
“Well, she has other responsibilities, too. And, as you know, we are in no position to have a personal lady’s maid in thishouse.”
“As we are all too aware,” Ruth said, playing with her cutlery as Molly poured her tea, sticking out her tongue behind Ruth’sback.
Ruth always thought of herself as more attractive than her younger sister, Teresa. But she seemed to have a perpetually sour expression, as she was always complaining about something and, although she was often approached by young men interested in courting her, she inevitably sent them scurrying away with her grouchyattitudes.
Emily, as the eldest, attempted to stay out of the family’s petty squabbles and tried to lead by example with her calm demeanor. However, both sisters thought she was a bit haughty and full of herself. But then, they did not have the same drive to succeed as she did—or the sametalent.
After Emily received her breakfast, Mother asked, “Whatever happened to that nice gentleman who called on you last week? What is his name? He seemed to be verynice.”
“Yes, Raymond Howard. He scurried away as soon as he found out I did not have anymoney.”
“But he seemed so very nice,” Motherlamented.
“No, Mother, he was not. He was like so many men I meet—a hanger-on. He was mesmerized by the glamour of me being a successful musician—and something of anovelty.”
Papa looked up from his rasher of bacon and eggs. “You do seem to attract a lot of those types, do you not, mydear?”
Emily sighed. “It is difficult to find a genuine suitor with my constant rehearsals and performing schedule. They all want to either take me out to tea or to the theatre, but I am rarely available for any of thoseevents.”
Mother frowned. “You work too hard. You need to set aside time for romance, or you will find yourself an old maid with nofuture.”
Now their father pounced. “Mother, her future is in performing. She… and the other girls too… are destined for greatness. How can marriage possibly stand up to such splendid musicalaccomplishments?”
