Geric | An Inspector Calls fanfiction

8

June was never anything special in Brumley. The sun shone in a clear blue sky but icy winds forced everyone to wrap up warm in their winter bests. Sheila had dressed herself in a long woven coat rimmed with brown fur. Underneath she wore a lilac summer dress with lace cuffs and a jewelled neckline. She was heading for the town hall for another day of volunteering, beside her George was carrying a large crate of freshly baked bread and a few pastries.  

"I wish this weather would make up his mind." He said, adjusting his grip on the crate. His brow was shining with sweat and he was starting to pant like a dog. 

"I know." Sheila agreed. "When I looked out of the window this morning I thought it was going to be a lovely day, but as soon as I stepped outside I dashed back in for my coat." 

The pair stopped as an automobile flew right infront of them, then they proceeded to cross the road and mount the steps to the town hall. As usual Mrs Merton was already there and the trio set up before a hungry crowd appeared. Sheila had tasked herself with serving the soup today, like she always does. She enjoyed this as it meant she could talk to the regulars and hear how helpful the charity is. It made her feel proud that she's doing something to make someone else's life better. 

"You're a saint, dear." Says a toothless old man. Sheila smiles at him as she spoons vegetable soup into his bowl. She keeps smiling as the next person holds out their bowl. A young timid woman stands in front of her and suddenly Sheila's smile drops. Their eyes lock for a brief moment before the woman abruptly moves away. Sheila had seen her before, but where? She shook the thought from her mind as the next person moved down the line. 

Once every last crumb had been eaten up and all the tables and chairs had been cleared away, the trio set off home. Sheila and George said goodbye to Mrs Merton at the bottom of the town hall steps and watched her walk the opposite way. 

"You know... you're not like the other rich girls." George says as they set off across the road.

"Oh?" Sheila says.

"We get rich folk in the shop all the time. They come in and bark their orders like they have to right to be served before everyone else." George wears a look of disgust and Sheila wonders if she's ever done that before without realising. 

"I expected every wealthy person to be like that, but you...you're different." George says and glances down at Sheila. She blushes as he catches her eye. "I don't think I've ever met a rich gal wanting to devote her free time to helping others instead of shopping." 

"Well I'm glad I'm not like the others." Sheila says. "I hate their snooty behaviour. I used to be like that, only caring about how I looked and who I was with, but I've recently realised that there are people in the world who have it worse than me, people who are suffering." 

They stop as they reach the back door of the bakery. "If only they could all be like you Sheila." George says and Sheila nods in a sorrowful agreement.

"Some of them can be very stubborn." Sheila says, thinking of her mother and father. "Well anyway, I best be getting home." 

"Hold on a second Sheila." George stops her before she takes a step. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out with me sometime...? Like as friends?" He rubs his hand on the back of his neck and averts his eyes from Sheila's. 

"Oh...erm...I'd love to." Sheila says, clearly taken aback.

"Really?" George says and Sheila nods vigorously. "Okay...erm how about tomorrow night at 7 o'clock? I'll meet you here if you want or I can pick you up from your house?" George's words tumble out of his mouth like a waterfall, excitement is written all over his face. 

"Yes, that sounds lovely." She wasn't going to risk her mother seeing George so she agreed to meet him outside the bakery. Her mother would only cause a stir and it would ruin the whole evening for Sheila. Mrs Birling obviously wouldn't approve of George and Sheila doesn't want to have to deal with the lecture that comes with it.

The two bid farewell and Sheila walks home with a slight spring in her step. Something told her that George intended it to be more than friends and she didn't mind. George is a nice man, he's good looking, generous and has a tender-heart. She wishes she can become as humble as he is. Maybe one day she'll break all ties with her parents and dedicate her time to helping out at the charity more, expanding it to something bigger than a food bank. 

The thought of the food bank suddenly made Sheila think of the woman she recognised. Who was she? Sheila knew she had seen her before, she was certain of it. The woman had a fair complexion with light hair. She was beautiful, despite the rags she wore, she was more beautiful than Sheila would ever be. Where had she seen that delicate face before? 

Sheila reached the gateway of her house. She paused and thought. The woman had recognised Sheila too, that's why she moved away so quickly. But she looked scared, like Sheila was going to shout at her. It was almost the same as...the look the young assistant in Milwards had given her when Sheila shouted at her for laughing at a dress that didn't suit her. 

Suddenly Sheila's stomach dropped as she realised it was Eva.