The Sea Shell Girl (25 page)

The next couple of days were busy in the store and the assistants only just had time to snatch a hurried luncheon before the carriages began arriving for the Wednesday afternoon trade collection. As before, Mrs Smale had taken herself off to the stockroom, leaving Mrs Winter to take charge.

‘Wonder if we'll manage to get away early this week. I'd so like to visit the market,' Freckles whispered as they waited behind their allotted piles. ‘I was thinking that if you're seeing that toff, I might try me luck with Chester. Mind you, I'll need something to make him notice me.'

‘I think he's already done that, Freckles,' Merry replied.

‘I don't think we'll be getting away early,' Prunella said, pointing to Chester and Nicholas, who were adding more packages to their piles. Trade had been brisk that week and sales more numerous than ever before. Mrs Smale
had been quite gleeful when she'd totted up the ledger earlier.

Merry sighed for she too had been hoping Mrs Winter's system for speedy collection would mean they could finish early. She was becoming increasingly self-conscious of her shabby clothes and having already seen material that would make a perfect skirt, she was keen to look through the patterns whilst the store was closed. Then she let out a long sigh. Even with her staff discount, she knew she would have to wait until pay day before she could purchase anything.

Just then the servants began filing in through the back door, jolting Merry from her reverie. As she took in their plain dress and heavy boots, she couldn't help reflecting on the difference in the fortunes of the various classes of society. It was something that had been on her mind since the previous day when she'd heard a client lamenting the fact that her husband was mean with her allowance. Apparently he'd given her only enough to purchase material for one silk dress, a few muslins and some trimmings. Added to this, she had to make do with one new summer and winter bonnet each year. Merry had stared at the well-turned-out woman in astonishment. Obviously, she had no idea how lucky she was.

As the girls lined up, she turned her attention to the pile of packages waiting for distribution. The time flashed by with ever more servants arriving to collect their employers' purchases. Mrs Winter, who insisted on checking out each purchase, was busy ticking items from her list when a woman entered and stood looking around uncertainly. Spotting Merry, her eyes widened and she hurried over, announcing she'd come to collect the purchases for Miss Meredith. At the sound of the familiar name Merry's heart gave a flip but she smiled and began collecting together the parcels labelled for Carey's friendly sister.

‘Master Hall,' Mrs Winter said, looking up and snapping her fingers. ‘Assistance is required here, please.'

As Chester hurried over, the girl leaned forward and placed something in Merry's hand.

‘A communication for you from Miss Meredith,' she whispered. Seeing Mrs Winter frowning in their direction, Merry hurriedly placed the note in her pocket.

For the rest of the afternoon, every time Merry moved the note crackled in the pocket of her dress, reminding her it was waiting to be read. Why would Saphira write to her? She was dying to find out. However, the carriage trade continued into the evening and by the time the trainees had tidied and cleaned everywhere, it was supper time.

‘So much for getting away early,' Freckles sighed, wiping a hand across her brow. ‘Come along, you two, my belly thinks my throat's been slit.' Linking arms with Merry and Prunella, she pulled them towards the staff-room. However, Merry was curious to know what was in the letter and pulled away.

‘I need to get something from upstairs, so I'll see you in a few moments,' she said, hurrying down the passage before her friend could ask any questions.

Up in the attic room, Merry quickly lit the candle, took the note from her pocket and carefully broke the seal.

My dear Merry,

You have my heartfelt gratitude for finding my necklace. I can't tell you how distraught I was when I arrived home and discovered it was missing.

I did so enjoy our afternoon selecting materials and trimmings and am indebted for your invaluable advice. However, as your Mrs Stitches pointed out, I purchased far too much for my immediate requirement (my enthusiasm does so run away with me at times), and that I would need to return to discuss further orders. As you know, I am shortly leaving on vacation so alas this will not be possible. I would be most grateful therefore if you would also accept the surplus fabric as a small gesture of my appreciation for your honesty. I know the colours will suit for I am still in absolute shock at the likeness between us.

I have penned a letter of instruction to this effect to Mr Fairbright so there can be absolutely no misunderstanding by any member of the staff! I do hope that repugnant woman is now chewing parsley as per my recommendation.

Yours affectionately,

Saphira Meredith

PS. Carey has been looking really happy since his luncheon with you!

Ah, so that was where the parsley on their plates had come from. That Saphira had suggested Merry should have the surplus fabric and trimmings was exciting news in itself, but it was the postscript that made her heart jump. Dare she hope Carey Meredith might contact her again? No, that was a silly notion: he'd merely been polite, rewarding her for her honesty. Still, as soon as she could, she'd collect the material from Mrs Stitches and make a start on something new to wear.

Merry threw herself into her work during the week
then, much to her friends' chagrin, spent her Sunday off sewing a new skirt.

‘That toff's turned your head, if you ask me. Fancy spending the day indoors when you could come on the tram with us,' Freckles scoffed.

Merry smiled as she picked up her sewing.

The sage-green material Saphira had given her was finer than anything she'd ever dreamed of owning and she was anxious not to make a mess of the skirt. Mrs Stitches had loaned her a pattern and even showed her how to pin it to the cloth before cutting it out. However, it took longer to make up than she'd envisaged and although she spent the rest of the day sewing, it was only when the shadows were lengthening that she placed the final stitch. Hurriedly, she tried it on and then slipped into the blouse Saphira had given her. As she'd thought, the green of the skirt complemented the pink beautifully. Sighing she took them off and hung them carefully in the closet, wondering how long it would be before she would be able to wear them.

The next morning was busy and nothing any of them did seemed to please Mrs Smale. One client got so impatient at having to wait, Merry even ventured to ask if she could attend to the woman herself.

‘Indeed you may not, Miss Dyer. Please remember you are still a trainee and as such it is your duty to shadow.'

‘I merely wish to purchase buttons,' the woman persisted.

‘If modam would care to wait just one moment, I will attend her personally,' Mrs Smale insisted.

‘No, modam does not care to wait a moment longer,' the
woman said, picking up her reticule and marching from the store.

‘If you didn't take so long wrapping purchases, that would never have happened,' the manageress snapped at Merry.

‘Perhaps Miss Dyer could be permitted to assist clients with trimmings and accessories,' Mrs Winter ventured, only to receive a withering look from Mrs Smale.

‘I feel it pertinent to remind you that I am in charge here, Mrs Winter.'

‘I was merely pointing out that it won't do the store's reputation any good if clients walk out because they have not the time nor inclination to wait until you can serve them personally,' the supervisor replied.

‘When I require the opinion of my deputy I will ask for it,' Mrs Smale snapped.

‘Is everything all right, ladies?' They'd all been so engrossed in the battle between manageress and supervisor that nobody had heard Mr Didcot's cane tip-tapping across the floor.

‘Yes, thank you, Mr Didcot,' Mrs Smale simpered.

‘Not really, sir,' Mrs Winter replied at the same time. Just then the bell sounded for the store to close for luncheon and Mr Didcot turned towards them.

‘You take yourself off for your meal, girls,' he said. ‘Mrs Smale and Mrs Winter, perhaps you would remain behind a moment.'

‘Do you think they'll be reprimanded?' Prunella asked Merry as they followed Freckles along the corridor.

‘I don't know but we can't have the clients walking out like that,' Merry replied.

‘I hope they both get what for,' Freckles grumbled, pushing open the door to the staff-room. ‘Ooh, look,' she squealed, pointing to the table on which lay a small bouquet of flowers, wrapped in a lace doily and tied with satin.

‘I wonder who they are for,' Merry gasped.

‘Well, they've been put in your place, you numkin,' her friend giggled, nudging her arm. ‘Coo, they smell lovely. They must have cost a fortune.'

‘But who … ?' Merry began, her heart thumping madly.

‘Why don't you read the card?' Prunella suggested. Hurriedly Merry tore open the little envelope that was pinned to the ribbon.

My dearest Merryn,

Please accept these flowers as a token of my affection and appreciation for the pleasure of your delightful company. I wonder if you will do me the honour of joining me again this forthcoming Sunday? I shall wait in the yard as before, but if you do not feel able to join me, I will quite understand.

Fondly yours,

Carey Meredith

‘Oh,' she gasped, her heart racing. Slowly she returned the card to its envelope, then saw Freckles and Prunella staring at her expectantly.

‘Come on, tell us,' Freckles demanded impatiently. ‘Is it from him?' As Merry nodded, Freckles gave a sniff. ‘I'd have expected something more luxurious than a bunch of mixed blooms.'

‘Well, it's the finest tussie-mussie I've seen in a long time, and it was delivered, too,' Joanie said, placing their bowls of broth garnished with sprigs of parsley on the table.

‘Floriography is such a marvellous conveyance of one's feelings,' Prunella said.

‘Flori what?' Freckles asked.

‘Floriography. It's a way of communicating a message through flowers. Each one symbolizes a different emotion.'

Merry gazed at Prunella in wonderment. Was there no end to her knowledge?

‘So what do these pink things mean?' Freckles persisted, pausing mid-mouthful.

‘Pink camellias mean longing, the white mean adoration, gardenias mean you're lovely, forget-me-nots wonderful memories, and the forsythia anticipation. Oh, Merry, that's how he thinks of you,' Prunella sighed.

‘Blimey oh rimey, give me red roses any time,' Freckles muttered. ‘You know where you stand with them.'

‘And I suppose you've received many such bouquets, have you?' Joanie asked. Freckles pouted and the housekeeper grinned. ‘It seems your Lieutenant Meredith is more subtle, Merry. A gentleman like him knows how to court a woman properly. Would you like me to put these in water till supper time?'

‘Oh, no,' Merry cried. ‘I've never received flowers before and I want to keep them beside me so that I can look at them.'

‘Is that wise?' Prunella asked, looking worried as they made their way back onto the shop floor.

To their surprise Mr Didcot was still talking to Mrs Smale and Mrs Winter.

‘Ah, Miss Dyer, those will brighten our counter nicely,' Mrs Smale said, smirking as she took the flowers from Merry.

‘But I …' Merry protested.

‘I'm sure Miss Dyer will be pleased to share her beautiful flowers with our clients until she finishes for the evening,' Mr Didcot said, smiling at Merry. ‘Now, ladies, you have been here for nearly four months and I feel it is time to put your training into practice. From now on you will attend to our clients yourselves.'

Freckles winked at Merry. ‘No more shadowing old Smelly,' she whispered.

As Mrs Smale glared in their direction, Mr Didcot added, ‘You will, of course, still be guided by Mrs Smale and Mrs Winter.' There was a sharp intake of breath and Mr Didcot turned to the manageress. ‘Naturally, I will still be looking to you to continue your meticulous recording of our sales in the ledger, Mrs Smale.'

‘Of course, Mr Didcot,' the woman simpered, and Merry thought again how adept he was at making everyone feel they had an important role to play.

Sunday dawned at last and, knowing she'd be seeing Carey in half an hour, Merry could hardly contain her excitement as she and Prunella made their way back to the store after church. The others, having decided to investigate another part of the town, had already hopped onto a waiting tram.

‘You can borrow my mantle again, if you wish,' Prunella offered.

‘Are you sure you won't need it?' Merry asked.

The girl shook her head. ‘Father has something important to discuss so is sending his carriage to collect me. I can wear my second-best one home and bring another back with me.' Merry's eyes widened. She knew her friend's parents were of good standing but even so, to be able to leave wearing one mantle and return in another was beyond her comprehension.

‘I know you want to look good when Lieutenant Meredith calls for you. Hey, isn't that your friend Nicco?' Prunella asked, pointing to a figure in a donkey cart that was pulled up outside the front entrance. Merry's heart plummeted. Whatever was he doing here? She barely had enough time to refresh herself before Carey arrived as it was. Quickly she ran over to him.

‘Such eagerness to see me is heartening,' Nicco grinned.

‘You never told me you were coming,' Merry cried.

‘And good day to you too,' he replied. ‘Nothing to say I have to book an appointment to see my girl, is there?'

‘I am not your girl, Nicco. How many times must I tell you that?'

‘I love the way your cheeks go red when you're excited,' he grinned. ‘However, Nicco, being a man of the world, knows it is all part of the playing-hard-to-get game you girls like to engage in.' Merry fought down the urge to scream. She didn't have time for this.