Anne Douglas (10 page)

Oh, yes, the Mays worked hard and their staff were expected to work hard, too, as Shona had learned very quickly, but that was no trouble to her. She had never minded hard work and wanted to do her best in this job she already enjoyed.

True, it was early days yet but things could only get better, as far as she could see for, if up till now she’d only been allowed to water plants and keep everything tidy, very soon her real training would begin. Next week she’d heard there was to be a big wedding at St John’s in Princes Street. Maybel’s were doing the flowers and Willa had said cheerfully, ‘Maybe you’ll get to help with the buttonholes.’ Buttonholes? Yes, please, thought Shona.

‘’Bye, Mrs Gow!’ she called. ‘See you tonight.’

‘’Bye, Shona. Got your penny for the tram fare?’

‘Always have that, Mrs Gow!’

There was no wind, and the July morning was calm and warm as Shona arrived at Maybel’s and went through a door at the side of the shop to the staffroom at the rear, where she found Willa and Brigid drinking tea. ‘Morning, Willa, morning, Brigid,’ she called, hanging up the raincoat she hadn’t needed to wear. ‘Mr and Mrs May no’ down yet?’

The lucky Mays didn’t have far to come to work, as they lived in what was known as a ‘double-upper’ flat over the shop.

‘We wouldn’t be having this tea if they were!’ Brigid answered with a laugh. ‘Mrs May likes us to start work as soon as we arrive.’

‘Why, it isn’t nine o’clock yet,’ Willa, the attractive blonde, protested. ‘I don’t see why we should begin before then.’

‘Och, you know what Mrs M is like.’ Brigid shrugged. ‘Thinks we should all love work as much as she does.’

‘I do love my work,’ said Willa. ‘But my own time, too.’ She glanced at Shona, who was slowly sitting down, looking worried, and gave a quick smile. ‘Hey, don’t look so glum, Shona! We shouldn’t be giving you the wrong impression of Mrs May. She’s a good boss, really. Here, have a cup of tea.’

‘Thanks!’ Shona’s expression had lightened. ‘I’ve no’ been here very long but so far I think she’s been very nice. Mr May, too, though he doesn’t say much.’

‘Daren’t!’ said Brigid, her brown eyes dancing. ‘Oops, shouldn’t have said that, eh? No, he’s a happy man, is Mr May. As long as he’s got his bouquets and displays to do, he doesn’t want any more.’

‘Wish I was as good as he is,’ Willa remarked. ‘Mrs May’s good, but he’s got something extra, don’t ask me what. But then she handles all the business side of it and she’s
very
good at that.’

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Brigid sighed and rose. ‘Can’t deny it’s nine o’clock now. I’ll go and open up.’

‘And I’ll do these tea things,’ said Willa, moving cups and saucers to the small sink in the corner. ‘Just in case Mrs M pops in.’

‘Mind if I ask you something?’ Shona said as she found a tea towel.

‘Anything at all.’

‘Well, Mrs May mentioned I’d got someone’s job, and I was wondering who’d left. No one’s said anything.’

‘Oh, you mean Nesta. You want to know why she left?’ Willa set cups to dry and rinsed out the tea pot. ‘We’ve forgotten her already, I’m afraid. Truth is, she didn’t like it here very much.’

‘Didn’t like it?’ Shona was taken aback. ‘Why not?’

Willa shrugged her elegant shoulders. ‘She thought at first it would be something special, working in a flower shop, but then she found it was quite hard work and there was a lot to learn. So she put in her notice and got a job in Haberdashery at Logie’s.’

‘And that’s no’ hard work?’

‘Well, she doesn’t have to do anything herself, you see. She just sells what’s there.’

‘Just why I didn’t want to work in an ordinary shop!’ Shona cried, at which Willa’s blue-grey eyes brightened and she put her hand on Shona’s arm for a moment.

‘I’m so glad you’ve come, Shona. I’m eighteen now but I was only your age when I started and felt like you – I wanted something different. I found it here. I’ve been very happy. You will be, too.’

‘It’s nice of you to say that,’ Shona answered, flushing a little. ‘I know I’ll be happy working with you and Brigid.’

‘Oh, yes, Brigid likes to complain, but it’s just her way. She enjoys her work as much as anyone. And she’s good at it.’

‘Girls, girls, it’s after nine o’clock!’

At the sound of the voice from the door, they looked up to see Mrs May staring in at them, her pencilled eyebrows raised. ‘There’s plenty to do, you know.’

‘Sorry, Mrs May,’ Willa said with smooth contrition. ‘It was my fault – I didn’t notice the time.’

‘Well, never mind now, but I see some of the hydrangeas in the front are looking a little tired. See if you can tidy them up and if there are any we might spare for drying. Shona, please come to the workroom. I want to show you how to make a buttonhole.’

As Mrs May withdrew, Willa, on her way to the hydrangeas, looked back at Shona and gave an impish grin. ‘Said you’d be helping to make buttonholes!’ she whispered.

‘Glad you were right,’ Shona whispered back.

The buttonhole Shona made that day was, of course, to be the first of many. She had been worried about it, afraid her fingers would be all thumbs, but after she’d been shown by Mrs May how to wire and bind a pretty pink rose, then frame it with leaves and a little maidenhair, her finished effort was not too bad.

In fact, Mr May, who had paused in his work on a spectacular bouquet to watch, declared it very good and described Shona as a ‘natural’, at which Mrs May had said it was too early to say that on the strength of one buttonhole. On the other hand, yes, it seemed Shona might have the touch for delicate work, not that she would be ready to use it for some time. First, she must learn the routines of the front shop.

‘Not too difficult,’ Mr May remarked, beginning to insert lilies and phlox into his frame of foliage and giving Shona an encouraging smile. Older than his wife, he was a tall, heavy-shouldered man, his hair thick and grey, his eyebrows to match, and seemed more as Shona imagined a lawyer or a businessman might be, rather than a flower arranger. Yet he had the delicate hands all right, and whenever she could, she liked to watch him at his work, wondering as Willa did, what could be his secret?

‘Not difficult, maybe, but vital,’ Mrs May retorted. ‘The front shop is what people see first, it’s how they judge us. That’s why I want my staff to be always at their best, have the right manner towards customers, find what they want and present it beautifully.’ She turned to Shona. ‘Always remember, Shona, presentation is everything where flower-giving is concerned. Cellophane, ribbons, bows – all must be immaculate. To match the flowers themselves.’

‘I understand,’ said Shona.

‘Of course you do,’ Mr May agreed. ‘Why, that’s why my wife appointed you. Isn’t that right, Phyllida? Because Shona really appreciates flowers?’

‘You’re talking about the Handkerchief Tree?’ Shona asked.

Mrs May favoured Shona with a brief smile. ‘Yes, I must admit, that swayed me. Very few people of your age, Shona, could have shown so much interest in a tree, however unusual.’

So that’s why I got the job, thought Shona, and a reminder of Mark Lindsay flashed into her mind. She hadn’t thought of him for some time, she realized, but just then she wished she could have told him how he’d set her on the road she wanted to take. Perhaps one day she’d see him again? But then his image vanished, as Mrs May told her to follow her into the front shop where Willa or Brigid would begin to instruct her in what she needed to know.

The weeks went by. With her keenness and ability to learn, as well as her striking looks, her height and her bright hair, Shona soon became an asset in the front shop. Both Willa and Brigid were excellent teachers, helping her to identify the flowers and indoor plants, standing by when she dealt with her first customers, showing her how to satisfy Mrs May’s order that all purchases must be beautifully wrapped, tied with ribbon and finished with bows.

On the days when the flowers and plants arrived from the market garden outside Edinburgh and they had to open early to take in the cold, sweet smelling cargo, Shona was never happier than when unloading, helping to arrange the new arrivals. Ideally, she would have liked to visit the market garden to see what was available, but Willa said that that was strictly the province of Mr and Mrs May.

‘How about the big weddings and functions, then?’ Shona asked. ‘When might I get to help at them? I still only make the buttonholes.’

‘Sorry about that,’ said Willa. ‘I know Brigid and I take it in turns to go with Mrs and Mrs May, and you’re always in the shop with one of us, but your time’ll come, you’ll see. I expect you’ll be progressing soon to corsages, anyway.’

‘Corsages?’

‘For the mothers of the brides, mainly. There’s more to them than buttonholes – you’ll have fun making them.’

‘But the big arrangements, for the church and that – they’re always done by Mr and Mrs May?’

‘We do get instructed in what to do, and we are allowed sometimes to help.’ Willa smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Shona, you’ll get your chance. They think very highly of you, the Mays.’

‘You think so?’

‘Oh, yes. It won’t be long before you’re doing as much as Brigid and me.’

Shona wasn’t too sure of that, knowing Mrs May was never going to take risks letting inexperienced staff take on work before they were ready and believing she was right, anyway. She had to learn to walk before she could run, as Mrs Gow said comfortably when Shona occasionally discussed her work with her, and she had plenty still to learn.

The time came, however, when she did progress to making corsages from the prettiest flowers, moss, ivy and the thinnest wire, and enjoyed herself, producing something really exquisite for the unknown mothers of the unknown brides.

‘Well done,’ Mrs May would say, and ‘Excellent’, Mr May would chime, so that really it was no surprise when Shona was finally instructed in learning to create her first bouquet. Oh, it was tricky, getting the stems and leaves to do just what she wanted, never mind inserting the flowers, especially with Mrs May’s dark eyes following her every move, calling at intervals ‘Watch your shape! Remember your height!’ Finally, however, the task was done and Shona was able to sigh with relief when Mrs May, after a cliffhanger moment, pronounced the bouquet satisfactory.

‘That’s not to say it’s perfect – see, you have quite a gap here, you’ll have to fill in with something that looks right – but for a first attempt I think it shows promise. One day I can see you contributing well to our outside functions. Not yet, of course.’

One day. Not yet. Ah, well. As Shona knew, as she’d told herself often enough, she had a long way to go before she could call herself a florist, but one day she’d get there. She knew that too.

‘How’d you get on with your bouquet?’ Brigid asked later, during a lull of custom in the front shop. ‘Bit of an ordeal, eh?’

‘It wasn’t too bad,’ Shona told her. ‘Mrs May said it wasn’t perfect, but she quite liked it. ’Course I’ll no’ be going with the Mays to any functions yet.’

‘I shouldn’t think so.’ Brigid laughed. ‘Why, you’re still only a bairn! Lucky, really, to be making bouquets already. Poor old Nesta never got that far.’

‘Nesta wasn’t interested,’ Willa put in, as she gathered up some containers for rinsing out. ‘Mrs May knew that. She’d never have taken her along to weddings and such.’

‘Well, I bet there’s one wedding Shona might be able to attend.’ Brigid was looking coy. ‘Now, Shona, say whose you think it might be.’

‘I’ve no idea. Unless it’s yours?’

‘Mine? Definitely not. I’ve no plans of that sort. No, I mean Willa’s. Now don’t look like that, Willa. We’ve all seen that fellow come in here, pretending to look at flowers but only if you’re around!’

‘What fellow?’ asked Shona quickly. ‘Willa, you’re no’ really going to get wed?’

‘Of course not!’ Willa was quite unruffled. ‘Brigid’s just playing the fool again. There is a young man who comes in here and tries to talk to me, but he’s not my young man and I don’t want him to be. Satisfied, Brigid?’

‘I’ll wait and see, Willa. Wait and see!’

‘I’m just so glad you’re no’ leaving,’ Shona said sincerely. ‘I mean, that’d be awful.’

‘It’s nice to think you’d miss me. But you needn’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Nor am I,’ put in Brigid. ‘Though things are always changing. Nothing stays the same.’

‘Don’t say that!’ cried Shona. ‘I’ve just got used to this place as it is!’

On her way home, Shona decided that the day had been a good one and that she’d made some progress. And then there was the relief in knowing that Willa was not going to leave, which would have been a definite blow.

She’d been surprised, at first, that someone so poised and confident as Willa should have turned out to be so warm-hearted and helpful, but had soon come to rely on her, rather than Brigid, for advice and understanding. Brigid was all right, good at explaining things, but the thing about her was that you never knew where you were with her. She sometimes seemed to regard everything as a huge joke which wasn’t always easy to accept, whereas Willa was more like Miss MacLaren and Miss Ruddick – steady, trustworthy, always the same. Who could imagine Miss Ruddick, for instance, springing any surprises?

Shona smiled to herself as she neared Mrs Gow’s house, and thought again that she might pop back to Edina Lodge some time seeing as things were going so well, to tell them how she was doing. And call on Mrs Hope again, and see Kitty. No need to write to Archie, for he’d quite forgotten his promise to write to her, but she would write to Cassie. Maybe they could arrange to meet in their free time and have a grand talk together.

Yes, and there was one more thing Shona wanted to do, but the evenings were growing darker now and she’d have to wait till Sunday afternoon before she could do it. Sometimes she met Kitty on Sundays if she wasn’t seeing her young man, and they’d go for walks by the Water of Leith, but she never went with Kitty to the Dean cemetery, her destination this time. For visits to her mother’s grave, she always went alone.

There was no headstone, just a weathered wooden cross in a corner, but one day Shona hoped there would be a proper memorial, for even though everyone said she had to keep her small inheritance for a rainy day, she was already saving a little from her wages every week to buy a stone. If her father had to lie with his comrades in France, at least her mother would have her resting place marked in the right way. But, of course, even now, she could have flowers.