The Shoemaker's Daughter (29 page)

‘No, but I’d like a cup of coffee if you don’t mind,’ Emily said rubbing at her eyes wearily. ‘Bring it up to my rooms, please Sarah, and have some refreshment yourself, you look worn out.’

In her room, Emily stared out on to Wind Street, the long winding roadway that flanked the front of the emporium. It was busy with traffic, several vans were drawn up outside shops, horses, used to the routine, were standing patiently, heads down in submissive acceptance.

Cabs and carts clattered along the roadway that was teeming with people, Swansea was a town full of shoppers and suddenly none of them seemed to wish to spend their money at Emily’s Emporium.

So, Hari and Craig were working together, were they? Very convenient especially for her cousin who had always known when he was on to a good thing. He would use Hari shamelessly, play on her affections for, married though she might be, Hari was still in love with Craig.

Emily felt a pang of regret, how she wished she had not quarrelled with Hari, she realized now that Hari was as much a victim of Craig Grenfell’s machinations as she herself was. It was obvious he had merely been dallying with Hari and had dropped her once he’d had his way with her, otherwise Hari would not have married another man.

Emily missed Hari’s company desperately and she had no wish to see her exploited yet again by Craig, there was gossip about them as it was. Not that Emily believed it, however emotional Hari might be, she would never break her marriage vows, she was too upright and honest for that.

Perhaps she should go and see Hari, try to talk her into coming back to the emporium? And yet there was still an unreasoning pang of jealousy within her whenever Emily thought of Hari and Craig together. ‘Forget Craig!’ she said out loud. ‘He’s not worthy of any consideration from Hari or me.’

Emily sipped her coffee thoughtfully, her first step would be to walk up Wind Street and into High Street, see the new premises for herself. It could all be done quite casually, she would just be out shopping, strolling aimlessly along. If she could somehow have a good look at the shop Craig and Hari were managing between them, she’d have some idea of what she was up against.

It was a fine day so Emily simply drew on some gloves and a hat and leaving Sarah in charge of the younger, newer employees, made her way out of the shop.

The mellow walls of the old castle reflected the sunlight as she walked up through Castle Street and Emily narrowed her eyes against the glare. The sky was a blue bowl overhead with just a few fluffy clouds drifting lazily above her. It was a beautiful spring day and suddenly Emily felt nostalgia for the way things used to be.

She was so alone now, friendless, relying on paid help for company and as the warm blood surged in her veins she knew that she would give anything if she could put back the clock, her future as Craig’s fiancée secure.

But that was simply wishful thinking; her mind told her that Craig was not worthy of her slightest regard and her mind would rule over her emotions every time.

It was a simple matter to locate Hari’s new shop, the crowd gathered outside the premises, peering at the artistic display in the window, was enough to draw anyone’s attention.

The window was large, the display spartan. The backdrop was a scene depicting the red dragon of Wales against a field of daffodils. At the centre of the stage stood a pair of ladies’ boots buttoned high and beautifully tooled. Different coloured leather had been used to form a pattern over the instep and the rest was polished to a mirror-like finish.

On the other side of the doorway was a smaller window; this was obviously a showcase for the theatre folk. Shoes of all description from the exaggerated hugeness of the clown’s red leather pumps to the dainty dancing slippers in soft satins were spread out in apparent disarray over the stands. But the leatherwork was so cleverly displayed that each and every pair of boots and shoes caught the eye.

Emily moved back across the open doorway; within was a board with clear lettering proclaiming that specialized shoes, personally made to suit the individual taste and pocket, were available at short notice from Hari’s own boot and shoe shop.

It was all very cleverly done to play on the loyalty of the townsfolk. Hari might as well have gone into the street and cried to people to buy Welsh but then she was far more subtle than that. Renewed anger against Hari flared up within her.

‘Admiring our display?’ Craig had come to stand next to Emily and the tone of his voice was impersonal, as if he was addressing a stranger.

‘Yes, it’s very clever indeed. Make your store look good at the expense of mine that was the idea, wasn’t it?’ she said angrily.

‘Not at all,’ Craig said, ‘but if that happens to be the result who am I to quibble, all’s fair in love and business, don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t.’ Emily was not amused. ‘You are setting out to take my business away from me, coldly and deliberately, you and Hari want to ruin me.’

‘Rubbish!’ Craig said. ‘You didn’t hesitate to use up Hari’s stock when she left you and then when that was gone to buy in stock from Somerset. Did
you
stop to consider what that might do to Hari’s trade should she wish to start up in business again?’

He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘No, of course you didn’t, you went your own usual selfish way without a thought for anyone else.’

‘That’s just not fair!’ Emily protested. ‘Hari was safely married and, in any case, I didn’t think she would want to work with me again, what else could I do but go on and make my own plans?’

Craig looked at her without speaking for a long moment. ‘You know, Emily,’ he said at last, ‘you never did deserve a friend like Hari, she saved your life remember. You never knew her at all, otherwise you wouldn’t have believed for one minute that she would be content with home and hearth for evermore.’

He shrugged. ‘But then, you were never receptive to the feelings of others. Excuse me, I have work to do.’

He disappeared into the shop and Emily stood there blinking in the sunshine, trying to stem the tears that threatened to spill over on to her cheeks.

Was Craig right, was she selfish and unreceptive to the feelings of those around her? She drew herself up to her full height and made her way back down the road to her own emporium.

Suddenly she was filled with a sense of determination, she would not let anyone rob her of her courage and she was confident of her ability to run a business profitably, what more was there to think about? Craig and Hari, both of them could stew in their own juice.

A few days later a large advertisement appeared in the pages of the
Cambrian
extolling the virtues of Clark’s famous footwear. It also announced a cut back in prices of styles that were going out of production in favour of new lines. If Emily’s Emporium could not take the trade of the rich and pompous of the town, then it would take its business where it may.

Emily was rewarded by a flood of people from doctors to coal merchants and to her great satisfaction she was able to suit most of the requirements asked of her.

Where her service was lacking was in the repair of boots and shoes once they were bought and Emily made up her mind that she would have to employ skilled cobblers who could remedy that situation.

‘Sarah,’ she spoke softly to the sales assistant, ‘would you do me a favour and accompany me on a scouting mission?’

‘A what, miss?’ Sarah’s eyebrows lifted, her shapely figure emphasized by the tight black dress she wore in the shop seemed to quiver with curiosity. Emily smiled.

‘I want to employ some men, cobblers who will sole and heel boots and shoes preferably in the comfort of their own homes, that way I will save on overheads.’

Sarah smiled. ‘That’s easy, my dad is a cobbler, got a little shop up in Morriston he has, busy he is, mind, but for a secure wage I’m sure he’d work for you.’

‘That’s an excellent start,’ Emily said, her enthusiasm showing in the light of her eyes. ‘And can you think of anyone else who would work for me?’

‘My dad is sure to know someone, Miss Emily, got lots of friends in the trade, mind.’

‘All right, when the shop is closed will you take me to meet your father, Sarah?’

Sarah looked doubtful, ‘Our house isn’t what you’re used to, mind.’

Emily smoothed back a strand of hair that had escaped from the dark ribbons. ‘I have become “used to” a great deal of things I wasn’t familiar with before, Sarah. Whatever you might think of me, I’m not a snob.’

With a sudden sense of surprise, Emily realized that she spoke the truth. Once she had been a snob of the worst kind, looking down her nose at people like Hari as though they were less than the dust beneath her feet. But that had been before disaster had struck at her, since then she had been grateful for the help anyone chose to give her.

‘All right,’ Sarah said at last, ‘but we haven’t got much, mind, my mam’s been gone these years now and we’ve got just a little house in a street of houses all the same as ours and only dad to keep it tidy now that I’m living in.’

‘Don’t worry so much!’ Emily touched Sarah’s arm. ‘I need men like your father, just remember that.’

‘You are nice, miss,’ Sarah said warmly and Emily smiled ruefully, what a pity her cousin didn’t see her that way.

John Miller was, surprisingly, a handsome active man in his forties. Emily for some reason had expected him to be old and white haired. He took her hand warmly and his smile was much like that of his daughter.

‘So you’d like me to do work for you, Miss Emily.’ He said, ‘Well, you’ve chosen the right sort of skilled bootmaker for the job.’ He spoke with a certain pride in his craft and Emily liked that.

‘I’m sure I have.’ Emily smiled, ‘I’ve only got to look round me and I can see the evidence of your fine workmanship everywhere.’ She indicated the boots and shoes in various states of repair around the small workroom.

‘Would you like a cup of tea, miss?’ His eyes crinkled at the corners, they were very blue eyes. Emily realized quite suddenly that she more than liked this man, she felt attracted to him. Which was absurd, she might not be a snob any more but an alliance with a bootmaker was not the sort of thing a woman like Emily allowed herself to think about.

‘Yes, thank you, I’d like that,’ she found herself saying as she followed him from his small workroom to the parlour where she settled herself into a chair.

‘I’ll do the tea, dad,’ Sarah said quickly, ‘you and Miss Emily got business to discuss.’

Emily found it embarrassing to talk to this man about money so she brushed over the subject quickly. ‘I’ll give you five shillings a week above what you are earning now,’ she said and then smiled. ‘That is if you want to work for me, of course.’

‘I shall work for you, never fear, and a more loyal willing worker you’ll never find.’

Emily found it difficult to make small talk to this ruggedly handsome man. She saw his hands were idly shaping a piece of leather and she knew instinctively that she had found as good a substitute for Hari as she would ever find. This man, John Miller, actually loved the leather he worked. Given scope, he might rise to great things.

When Sarah brought the tea, Emily took the cup and her hands were trembling. A little of the liquid spilled into the saucer and Emily blushed as she felt John’s eyes upon her, smiling blue eyes that seemed to look deep inside her.

What arrant nonsense! What on earth had come over her? Emily finished her tea as soon as she decently could and, shaking out the folds of her skirt, glanced toward Sarah.

‘We’d better be getting back to the shop,’ she said and she was embarrassed but not surprised when John Miller insisted on accompanying them.

‘It is not right for two young ladies to be out alone at night-time.’ He led the way out into the narrow street of terraced houses and ignored Emily’s protests that they would get a cab.

‘Won’t get one around here, miss,’ he said reasonably. ‘Folks in this sort of area walk everywhere.’

There was something magical about the spring evening as Emily walked on John Miller’s right hand with his young daughter Sarah on his left. He was a big man and he gave Emily a feeling of great confidence, he could cope with anything that came along, she felt sure of it.

She risked a glance at him and in the light from the gas lamp their eyes met for a brief instant. Emily’s stomach seemed to turn over, her mouth was dry and, even as emotions raced through her body, she recognized them as the response of a woman starved of affection.

Perhaps, she thought, almost angrily, it was time she made her peace with her cousin and settled down into a safe and suitable marriage.

Hari was bending over the last, working a piece of sole into place when suddenly she felt faint and ill. She glanced up and saw that Will was regarding her with concern in his young face.

‘Hari, what’s wrong, are you bad?’ he asked anxiously. Hari made an effort to keep the waves of darkness at bay.

‘Fetch Edward, please,’ she said and her voice was distant and far away.

It was perhaps moments later that she regained consciousness, finding herself resting against the softness of her bed. Edward was bending over her and in the background stood Will, his face white with fear.

From far away Hari heard him speaking in a whisper. ‘Hari hasn’t got yellow jack, has she?’

‘I doubt it,’ Edward said with false heartiness, ‘but the doctor will be here soon.’

Hari tried to rise, ‘I don’t need a doctor, I’m all right, really I am, Eddie.’

‘No arguments,’ Edward said hoarsely and, by the look in his eyes, Hari knew how worried he was.

The doctor came and Hari recognized him at once. ‘Doctor Webber,’ she said weakly, ‘sorry to call you out.’ She saw Will shrink against the door and was thankful when the doctor indicated that Edward should take the boy from the room.

The examination was gentle and thorough and Hari had never been so embarrassed in her life. When the doctor drew the sheets over her she moistened her lips.