The Shoemaker's Daughter (17 page)

‘I can let you know my decision now,’ Hari Morgan’s face was tight with controlled anger. ‘I don’t want to work for you, I’m employed very nicely working for myself and the name of Morgan is respected already in town, which is more than can be said for that of the Grenfells.’

‘I see.’ Emily felt as though she had been slapped in the face. Well, this little upstart would see that the Grenfells had dignity. She moved towards the door. ‘In that case, I’m sorry I troubled you.’

‘Wait!’ Hari said quickly. ‘That was rude of me, I’m sorry.’

Emily smiled bleakly. ‘Yes, I’m sorry too, we could have made a good team, in business at least, though I realize we could never be friends or anything of that sort, but I’m convinced it could have worked. If you change your mind, please call to see me.’ She opened the door.

‘I am in lodgings in Chapel Street, you must know that all my possessions from Summer Lodge had to be sold?’

‘Yes, I know,’ Hari said ruefully, ‘I don’t suppose you realize how lucky you were to have things to sell, that’s more than I ever had, mind.’

Anger surged through Emily and she bit her lip hard to stop the rush of bitter words. After a moment, she took a deep breath.

‘Yes, well, if you feel it’s lucky to see all the things you held dear being handled and bought by strangers just to pay off your father’s debts, then I suppose you could say I’m lucky.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Hari smiled suddenly. ‘It seems I’m making a habit of saying sorry to you. Look, sit down, have a cup of tea, let’s be civilized to each other at least.’

Emily hesitated then moved to the scrubbed table and sat down abruptly, her legs shaking so badly it seemed they wouldn’t support her. Hari made the tea silently and deftly pushed the cup towards Emily.

‘It’s very weak, mind, got to make the tea last, it’s so expensive these days.’ She leaned forward and looked earnestly at Emily. ‘I don’t mean to be nasty or anything but I don’t really think we could work together, do you?’

Emily sipped the tea gratefully. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said flatly. ‘In any case, we would both have to be committed to the idea, half-heartedness won’t do, it’s all or nothing.’

‘I agree,’ Hari seemed ill at ease, ‘I would like to help but I’m all right here, I’ve got people working for me, see I owe it to them to make a success of my own business. I have never worked for anybody but my father, I like being my own boss.’

Emily finished her tea and rose to her feet. ‘Well, if you’d rather be a big fish in a very small pool, that’s up to you, I suppose. Personally I would have thought you had more ambition than that.’

‘I have got ambition,’ Hari said quickly, her cheeks suddenly flushed and Emily could see that her words had stung.

‘I’m making shoes for the theatre folk just now and I intend to build my business up bit by bit.’

Emily smiled. ‘I suppose it’s my turn to say I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Of course you must do things your own way, I was silly expecting you to take a big risk with me when you can get along quite nicely alone.’

Emily left the house, her mind in a turmoil, she couldn’t allow Hari to stand in her way, the girl was refusing her offer out of sheer pride, Emily was certain of it. But perhaps there would be some way of persuading her; at any rate, Emily would not give up her ideas.

When she arrived home, Emily shrugged off her coat and kicked her shoes across the room; they were not comfortable shoes, the leather was hard and ill-shaped, nothing like the wonderful shoes Hari Morgan used to make for her.

Letty appeared with a tray of tea and Emily smiled her appreciation. ‘You must have read my mind,’ she said, ‘a good strong cup of tea is just what I need.’

A little later, Emily was looking through her accounts and came across a bill for French calf; thoughtfully, she turned it over in her hands, Hari would need to buy the calf too and the usual practice was to pay for it at the end of the month.

There was no doubt that Hari would buy from the same supplier as the Grenfells and what if Hari had an outstanding bill? Emily might be able to persuade the supplier to call the debt in, just as a favour of course, then Hari would need money at once, she would have no choice but to throw in her lot with Emily. Emily reached for some paper and began to write.

It was almost a week later when Hari Morgan was shown into the small sitting-room of the house in Chapel Street. Emily rose to her feet and smiled.

‘Good morning, I’m very pleased to see you, does this mean you’ve changed your mind about my business proposition?’

Hari nodded. ‘I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t want to come but I’ve got no choice.’

‘Sit down, please.’ Emily avoided Hari’s eyes, unable to suppress the sudden dart of guilt that brought the colour rushing to her cheeks.

‘I owe a large bill for leather,’ Hari said, ‘and I haven’t yet been paid by the theatre folk.’

Hari’s face was pale and Emily told herself sternly that it was all for the best, together she and Hari would prosper.

‘As I told you when we first spoke,’ Emily said quietly, ‘I can take your debts on my own books and I can raise enough money to start us off in quite good style. For your part, you will bring your undoubted talent as well as your customers to the business. Eventually, we shall build our clientele from the richer people of Swansea.’

Hari nodded. ‘Agreed, but one or two things I must make clear, William comes with me and I choose the cobblers who work for us, I’m not putting the name of Morgan to any inferior work.’

Emily smiled. ‘I understand. Together we will make it work, Hari, believe me, we shall have the finest business in the country.’

Hari moved towards the door. ‘I will go on working in my shop until you get the premises, then.’

‘I’ve got the premises already,’ Emily said and then she saw the surprised look on Hari’s face. ‘Nothing definitely decided, of course.’

‘Where is it?’ Hari asked. ‘I hope it’s nothing too grand.’

‘It’s an old building at the bottom of Wind Street,’ Emily said. ‘I can rent it cheaply because the owner was a friend of my father’s.’

‘It’s handy to have friends like that,’ Hari said drily. ‘Do you plan on us living in?’

‘Yes, I think it will be cheaper that way and more convenient,’ Emily said. ‘Don’t forget, we will be equal partners.’ She moved forward and held out her hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, Hari took it.

When she was alone, Emily allowed herself a smile of satisfaction, nothing could stop her now, she was on her way up and all thanks to her own ingenuity.

Into her mind quite suddenly came an image of Craig. Emily covered her face with her hands, she should be making plans for her marriage right now, but he had failed her miserably, she no longer wanted anything to do with him, did she?

Emily stood in the centre of the shop staring round happily at the crowd of curious customers. The sound of voices and the clink of glasses was like music to her ears, the shop,
her
shop was actually open for business.

One of the singers from the theatre had stood in the doorway declaring to the crowd who had gathered to watch that the Grenfell and Morgan boot and shoe emporium was providing the best leather goods in town.

Charles Briant had spoken in his fine voice that carried to the very edge of the crowd, telling the people of Swansea how talented and gifted was Angharad Morgan.

‘She made me walk straight and tall again, made me feel a complete man with her excellently designed footwear,’ he had boomed.

And then the crowds of crinolined ladies with their escorts had moved into the interior of the store, eager to drink the champagne that Emily had insisted upon and to look at and touch the merchandise.

Hari was at Emily’s elbow. ‘How do you think it’s going?’ she asked anxiously and Emily smiled.

‘Very well attended, as an opening occasion should be, but I think half of these people have come to stare at Emily Grenfell who has done the unthinkable and gone into trade.’

‘Don’t be so downhearted,’ Hari said quickly, ‘I’m sure that toffs aren’t all like that – are they?’

Emily smiled. ‘I don’t suppose so, I
am
feeling a little self-conscious, I’m not used to being on display in this sort of way.’

‘You must be more used to it than I am. You’ve always been one of the gentry, used to grand balls and such.’

Emily shrugged. ‘Look, Sir Charles is coming over, I must thank him.’ Emily smiled at the surprised look on Hari’s face.

‘Sir Charles, do you mean Charlie from the theatre?’ Hari said.

‘Of course, why do you think I asked him to attend the opening of the store?’ Emily said easily.

Hari shook her head. ‘I thought you’d asked him because he was a kind considerate man and a customer. You are a snob.’

Emily was not a bit offended. ‘Well, one of us has to be,’ she said coolly as she moved forward, holding out her hand.

‘Well done, ladies,’ Charles winked at Hari, ‘I see the rich have come to stare, let us hope that they are as free with their orders as they are with drinking your champagne.’

‘Thank you, Charlie,’ Hari said, ‘there’s good of you to spare the time to come to help us out.’

‘Wild horses wouldn’t have kept me away, my dear Angharad.’ Charles smiled at her before moving to the centre of the room.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, his voice easily overriding the hum of conversation. ‘I shall be the first one to give in my order to these dear ladies, I shall have three pairs of the best leather boots the house of Grenfell and Morgan can supply.’

He turned to Emily and kissed her hand and then took Hari in his arms in a bear hug of an embrace.

Emily found herself inundated with people wanting to make orders and cursed herself for not being prepared. She held up her hand for silence.

‘Please have another glass of champagne and in the meantime I will bring my order book from the office.’

She smiled at Hari as she moved towards the stairs, there was no order book but from now on there would be one and, if today was anything to go by, it would always be full.

As she moved up the stairs, Emily felt a sense of triumph, she was on her way to a big success and no-one was going to stop her.

12

Craig Grenfell stood in the sitting-room of Summer Lodge staring out into the garden, it was good to be back home in Swansea. The trees waved luscious leaves in the wind and the soft scent of roses drifted in through the open window.

He glanced around him ruefully, the house bore very little resemblance to the Summer Lodge he knew, the floors were bare of carpets and little of the old furniture remained, the best of it sold off to reduce his uncle’s debts.

And all because Craig had allowed his brother a free hand both to pilfer money from his own customers and to interfere in Uncle Thomas’s business. Could he wonder that Emily believed him to be feckless and irresponsible and wanted nothing to do with him?

Careless he had certainly been, allowing his complete trust in his brother to blind him to the way the business was being mishandled. Just the same, Emily was forgetting that her father, who was taking an active part in his own affairs, had been taken in by Spencer’s cleverness.

Nonetheless, Craig should not have quarrelled with Emily, she was his fiancée as well as his cousin and she had been bitterly hurt by her father’s death. The humiliation of seeing her possessions sold must have been a great blow to her pride. And Emily was proud, too proud for her own good, perhaps it was time she learned some lessons about the real world.

The fact that he had inherited Summer Lodge was inevitable, the property was entailed and, in any event, the eldest male heir always took precedence over the female relatives. Unfortunately, Emily was still responsible for her father’s debts and she had no choice but to accept the situation.

Summer Lodge would be Emily’s home again once they were married and then Craig would take Emily’s debts and deal with them as best he could.

He smiled, in view of Emily’s bad temper last time he’d seen her, it seemed almost certain that she had other ideas rather than marriage, at least for the time being.

As for himself, Craig knew he had enough on his plate sorting out his own complex problems. He believed that, with Edward Morris’s expert help, it would not be too long before the books were in order.

The business, fortunately, was still viable, the profits continued to come in and now that he had taken the trouble to placate and reimburse the more injured of the customers, putting right what he had referred to as ‘accounting errors’, there was a good chance that the worst of the crisis was over.

He looked around him, once he got his business life in order, he would begin to replace the furniture, hang some drapes, make the place look more like home. But it all cost money and that was something he could not spare, not just yet.

In any case, the choice of furnishings he had hoped to leave in Emily’s capable hands, when the time was right. But he didn’t think she was in any frame of mind to offer advice gladly on the refurbishing of Summer Lodge, not just now.

He heard the sound of the front door being pushed open and foosteps ringing across the uncarpeted hallway.

‘Craig, it’s Morris, are you there?’ Edward was peering around the tall doors of the sitting-room, his dark hair falling straight across his forehead, giving him the appearance of a small boy and yet he was a most capable accountant, brilliant even. It was good to have Edward working for him.

‘Guess what? Your brother has been arrested up in Newport.’ Edward smiled, ‘I’ve just heard the news from an accountant friend of mine who lives there.’

‘My mother won’t be pleased about that,’ Craig said, ‘but then I don’t suppose Spencer will serve a very long sentence, he’ll plead ill health or something.’

‘Feel like a drink?’ Edward asked. ‘I’ve got another little bit of gossip you might like to hear about.’