The Sea Shell Girl (15 page)

‘That's what I love about you, Merry,' he chuckled, falling into step beside her.

‘What, my wish for independence?' she asked, hope rising that perhaps he did understand after all. When he didn't answer she turned to face him. He was staring out over the water.

‘See all those sparkles?' he said, his voice low. ‘They're just like the diamonds I want to give you.'

‘Oh, Nicco,' she groaned. ‘Look, I really do like you but I don't want to marry you – or anyone, come to that.'

He sighed and was quiet. ‘It's this job, isn't it?' he asked finally.

‘That's part of it, yes,' she admitted. ‘I need to prove to myself that I can do it, Nicco, and I really want you to understand.' He nodded and her heart lifted.

‘Well, Nicco is nothing if not fair. You may stay in this little job. I shall bide my time until you've got it out of your system. Then we shall marry.'

‘No!' she gasped. ‘That's not what I meant at all. You must understand …'

‘I will tell everyone back home we have decided on a year's betrothal and that we'll marry come the fair next year,' he butted in.

Merry opened her mouth to protest then closed it again. He would never listen so what was the point?

‘I'd better be getting back; the others will wonder where I've got to,' she said quickly.

‘Don't think I'll forget this conversation, Merry. I will make my formal declaration in one year from now.'

Merry relaxed back into her seat as they made the journey back to the store in silence. A year was an age and anything could happen during that time.

‘I'll come and see you next Sunday,' he said, pulling on the reins as they drew up outside the store.

‘No, don't do that. Everything's new here and I need to spend time with the other assistants,' she said, quickly climbing down. ‘Give my love to Mother and Grozen and tell them I'll make the journey home to see them before long.' He opened his mouth to reply but, not wishing to
hear any more, she turned, ran down the path to the yard and fled inside.

Closing the heavy door with a sense of relief, she leaned against it and breathed in deeply. Would Nicco never get the message? While she intended going home in the near future, he needn't know that, need he?

‘Surely you haven't been out by yourself, Miss Dyer?' Merry looked up to see the manageress frowning at her.

Although it was their day off, the woman was still attired in her black dress and was looking as officious as she did on the shop floor.

‘A friend from Porthsallos came to visit, Mrs Smale,' she answered.

‘A gentleman, perhaps?'

Merry flushed, uneasy at the gleam that sparked in the woman's eyes. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't for the life of her remember what.

‘Let me remind you that the terms of your employment require permission be granted before you may have a follower.'

‘Nicco is not my follower, Mrs Smale. Like I said, he is a friend …'

But the manageress wasn't listening. ‘You can be sure this misdemeanour will be marked on your records, Miss Dyer.'

‘But I haven't done anything wrong, Mrs Smale,' Merry insisted, but the woman was already marching away.

‘Oh rats,' Merry cried, fighting back hot tears as she hurried up the stairs. Sinking onto her bed, she kicked off her shiny shoes then lay back against the pillow and stared up at the skylight. A breeze must have got up; white clouds
were scudding across the sky like puffs of cotton wool. What a day, she thought. At least she had a year's grace from Nicco's persistent pestering.

In the meantime, she would concentrate on her job. She loved the smell of the materials, the soft feel of the kid-skin gloves, the glossy sheen of the colourful ribbons. Why, she'd even spotted drawers of worsted wool and would be able to advise the clients on its durability and suitability. If only their manageress hadn't taken against her, she would have been quite happy.

She couldn't help comparing the shrewish woman with her gentle mother, and was seized with a sudden urge to return to Porthsallos and see her. How comforting it would be to feel her mother's arms around her. Even the sharp edge of Grozen's tongue seemed mild next to Mrs Smale's bitter barbs. Merry sighed, knowing she would have to leave it a few weeks so Nicco wouldn't be expecting her. Honestly, where was her courage? She'd spent the past few months dreaming of getting away from the village and here she was, at the first hint of trouble, planning her return.

‘Blimey oh rimey, you're a dark horse,' Freckles cried, bursting into the room. ‘Or perhaps, with your cloud of white hair, I should say light horse,' she spluttered. ‘Fancy you being betrothed and to such a good-looker too. Not that you ain't good-looking yourself, of course. Poor old Chester's gutted so I'll just have to console him …'

‘But he's not,' Merry said, raising herself up on her elbow.

‘He is, old thing,' Prunella agreed.

‘No, I mean Nicco is not my betrothed.' Freckles and
Prunella exchanged perplexed glances. ‘He might want us to marry but I don't,' Merry explained.

‘Is he not eligible material?' Prunella asked.

Despite herself, Merry grinned. ‘Nicco is set to inherit the pilchard factory when his father passes on, so in that respect he is very eligible.'

‘You mean he's got money as well as looks?' Freckles whistled. ‘Blimey, girl, what's your problem?'

‘I don't want to get married,' she said.

‘You mean never?' Prunella gasped. ‘But Mother says that is why we women have been put on this earth, to have …'

‘Yes, yes,' Freckles interrupted. ‘Here, guess what: you know Chester said he'd made a bloomer on his first day? Well, he finally got round to telling us what it was. Oh, this will make you laugh. He was shadowing Perkins up in the tailor's room when the client was asked which side he dressed. Anyway, Chester, bless him, said he couldn't understand why it should make a difference which side of the room he stood,' she shrieked. ‘What a wheeze, eh?'

‘Sorry, I'm not sure I understand,' Merry said.

‘No, I didn't. And it's really quite shocking,' Prunella gasped.

‘Oh, for heaven's sake, I reckon you two have only just crawled out from under your gooseberry bushes. It means which side a man has his equipment in his trousers.'

‘Equipment?' Merry frowned.

‘Blimey oh rimey have you never seen a naked man?'

‘No, of course not,' Merry stuttered, shocked at the notion.

‘Well, I shared bath night with me brothers and …'
She was interrupted by the clang of the supper gong. ‘I'll explain later. Let's go down; I'm famished,' Freckles cried. ‘You missed a good picnic. Joanie packed enough for an army but all that fresh air's made me hungry again.'

‘I think I'll give supper a miss,' Merry said, unable to face the inevitable questions about her day.

‘Do you have a bad head, Merry?' Prunella asked. ‘Only I have some smelling salts in my valise.'

Merry smiled. ‘That's kind but really I'm not hungry. I am very tired, though,' she said, yawning as she lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes. Luckily they took the hint and Merry heard the latch click behind them.

The next morning, after they'd dressed the window and removed the dust covers from the counters, Mrs Smale gave them each an appraising look. Mindful of their altercation the previous day, Merry held her breath but the woman nodded.

‘Already you are looking more like trainee assistants. It is good to see you have been paying attention to what I've been telling you. Now, before I give you today's lesson, which will be in the art of selecting fabric, our esteemed employer Mr Didcot wishes to have a few words, so please stand to attention,' she commanded.

‘Good morning, ladies,' Mr Didcot greeted them, his cane tapping on the stone floor as he crossed the room. ‘I have some exciting news I wish to impart. However, before I do, I would like to thank you for all your hard work in helping to get our store up and running. Mr Fairbright and myself are of the firm belief that our enterprise
will only be as good as it's employees.' As he paused and beamed at them, Mrs Smale began to clap.

‘A round of applause for Mr Didcot, ladies.' They duly put their hands together only for him to shake his head.

‘Thank you, but that is hardly necessary. Now the reason I am here is to welcome our new dressmaker who is joining us today. You may already know that we have a tailor working above menswear and now we are to be graced with our own lady tailoress. Life is moving on a pace and women are now travelling further than they have before. This means they will require suitable attire but have less time to attend dress and hat fittings. As you will already have seen, we have purchased in bonnets and hats in various shapes and sizes, which just need customizing. We have also been fortunate in acquiring beautiful materials, and also dresses that have already been part made.' He paused as they gasped and looked at each other in surprise. Then, smiling knowingly, he continued, ‘The idea being, the client will need only one fitting, which can be done on the premises. The item will then be finished and packaged ready for carriage collection.'

‘That sounds a brilliant idea, Mr Didcot, but will the nobs wear that, so to speak?' Freckles asked.

Mrs Smale frowned. ‘I'm sure Mr Didcot has better things to do than answer your ridiculous questions, Miss Brice.'

‘That is quite all right, Mrs Smale, and, as it happens, a very good point, Miss Brice. This is indeed a new venture and we have yet to see if it will become popular. As such, I would request you mention this service to our clients whenever appropriate. Now, I know you have a busy day
ahead so I will leave you to it.' As he tapped his way towards the stairs, Mrs Smale turned to address them.

‘Right, ladies, you have heard what Mr Didcot has to say about our new service. Now I want you to pay close attention for you are about to receive your first lesson in the art of showing clients the wonderful fabrics and dress lengths we have for sale.' Opening the glass doors of the floor-to-ceiling cupboard, she gestured to the bolts and bales of materials that lined the shelves. They were arranged in their various colours and as she stared at the wonderful array, Merry felt a pang of excitement. At last she was going to learn the secrets of good dressing.

‘Mrs Rose, perhaps you would pass me that wonderful sea-green cotton.'

‘Oh, um, yes of course, Mrs Smale.' To their surprise the woman stood there, her hand hovering over the various green materials.

‘Quickly, Mrs Rose. I really do need to conduct this lesson before the store opens,' the manageress tutted, going over and pulling out the required bolt herself. Freckles nudged Merry's side.

‘You'd think she was colour-blind,' she hissed.

‘Perhaps she's just nervous,' Merry whispered, seeing how shaken the supervisor looked.

‘Now, in order to show the client this wonderful fabric to best effect, rather than spread it along the counter, display it against your body so that she can see how it could look on her,' Mrs Smale continued, holding it against her black dress.

‘That is beautiful,' Prunella gasped. ‘Imagine having a gown made up in that.'

‘And that is precisely the wonderful service the store will offer. Now, in this other cabinet here we have the part-made items Mr Didcot mentioned. It will be our duty to sell the client what they request, whether it be a length of material or one of the unfinished garments, and then escort them upstairs to the dressmaker. As Didcot and Fairbright is the first store to be offering such a comprehensive service in the town, we have the most marvellous opportunity to make our store a success, which is splendid, is it not?'

‘So we sell the client the material or dress length, then take them upstairs to the dressmaker,' Freckles said.

‘No, Miss Brice, you do not. Mrs Rose and myself have been trained to carry out these roles. Your duty will be to shadow us, for of course there will be silks to match to the material, buttons to offer for selection and any manner of accessory the client may wish to add. Here at Didcot and Fairbright it is our aim to provide customization.'

‘Customization for the customer, that's good,' Freckles laughed.

‘Thank you, Miss Brice. Now come over here, all of you, and I'll talk you through all the labels of these wonderful materials. It will sound more professional if you can refer to them by their name.'

‘Here, madam, let me show you our Peter and this is our Paul,' Freckles gushed. Merry couldn't help giggling but luckily the manageress was so enthralled by her task, she didn't hear.

As word of the new service spread, the store became busy and Merry marvelled at the well-dressed ladies who came
in requesting to be shown the merchandise. Now, as instructed, they were lined up behind the counter waiting to be called on to help.

‘That's what we're like,' Freckles muttered, jerking her head to a servant hovering patiently behind her mistress. ‘Shadows be blowed; servants more like.'

‘Do I have to wait all day for assistance, Miss Brice?' Mrs Smale called, sending a withering glance their way.

‘Coming, Mrs Smale,' Freckles cried. ‘Immediately, Mrs Smale, at your beck and call, Mrs Smale,' she added in such a low voice only Merry heard.

Merry stared around as she waited to be summoned. There was a buzz of excitement about the place that morning as women marvelled at the hats displayed on their blocks, felt the lengths of materials swathed around the dummies, then pointed to the reticules artistically displayed along the shelves behind the counters.

‘If their quality is up to scratch it will save me from having to make the tiresome trip to the capital each season,' one woman declared, as she stopped and held up her lorgnette to inspect the bales of materials displayed behind the counter.

‘It will indeed be a blessing,' her companion agreed. ‘Although whether they will stock the latest mode, remains to be seen.'

‘Well, I've heard they have a dressmaker on the premises …' Their voices became inaudible as they moved further down the store. Then Merry noticed a familiar figure enter the store. It was Lady Sutherland, the lady from the granite house in Porthsallos. She was immaculately dressed as ever, and Merry watched in fascination as
she seemed to glide across the floor. How lovely to be so elegant, so poised, she thought as the lady approached the counter.

‘Excuse me, my dear,' she said, stopping in front of Merry.

‘How may I help you, madam?' Merry asked politely, trying to quell her nerves.

‘I just wondered if there was something wrong. Has my hat pin dislodged or has perchance a smut from the dusty road outside landed upon my face?'

Merry's eyes widened in horror. ‘Oh, no, madam, please forgive me for staring. It's just that I have seen you in Porthsallos.'

The woman peered closer. ‘Ah, yes, the girl with the beautiful white hair – I, too, have seen you.'

‘May I be of assistance, modam?' Mrs Smale asked, frowning at Merry as she hurried across the room. ‘Please forgive Miss Dyer for not showing you any of our merchandise. She is but a trainee assistant and …'