When she showed Lucy the pattern, she shook her head. “I don’t think satin will work. I think you need a special type of taffeta to make the best of the pattern, and we don’t have it here.” She thought for a moment. “The wholesaler is bringing a delivery later this afternoon. Why don’t you give him a ring and ask him to bring a selection of taffetas?”
Around four o’clock the delivery came and after the man carried the boxes and parcels into the stockroom, Sarah and Lucy examined the rolls of taffeta he had brought.
“I think you’re right about the materials,” Sarah said as she compared a roll of satin to a roll of taffeta. “The taffeta will definitely work better with the pattern, especially around the neckline.”
“Which colour are you going to have?”
Sarah had narrowed it down to two. A gold colour with a black sheen and a dark grey with navy. “I really can’t decide . . .”
“Hold them up to your shoulders,” Lucy instructed. She stood back as Sarah held the end of one roll up and then the other. She smiled. “I can’t decide either. Both colours are beautiful on you.”
“They would be beautiful on anyone,” Sarah said, staring at her reflection.
“I thought I was the world’s worst at taking a compliment,” Lucy laughed. “but you’re every bit as bad!”
Sarah looked at her and started to laugh as well, and it struck her how much younger Lucy looked when she was in a light mood.
The shop bell rang and David McGuire came in.
“You asked me to call in to collect the things for my mother.”
“They’re all ready,” Sarah said, turning towards the back-shop. “I’ll just get them for you.”
“Has business been good for you this Christmas so far?” Lucy asked him.
“Very good,” he said. “Our sales are well up on last year.”
“That’s always good to hear.”
“And I can see your own business has done well – every time I look over you have a queue of people.”
“A certain person is responsible for that.”
Sarah came back with the carrier bag containing Mrs McGuire’s skirt with a new zip and a blouse which had new cuffs. “I hope they’re okay for her,” she said.
“Oh, I’m sure they will be,” he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
“Actually,” Lucy suddenly thought, “maybe we need a man’s opinion, Sarah. The material,” she said, holding up the gold and grey rolls. She looked at David. “Which one do you think is the nicest?”
David’s hand came up to hold his chin as he studied the material. “Who’s it for?” he asked.
“Sarah,” Lucy told him. “She’s making a dress for a New Year’s Ball.”
He looked at Sarah. “Where’s it being held?”
“It’s in some hotel . . .” Sarah felt herself flush. She wished Lucy had kept quiet about it. She knew he would be upset that she had turned down his offers of going to dances so many times before. “It’s for the hospital staff . . . the girls at the house bought me a ticket.” She felt annoyed at having to explain herself to him.
He looked at the fabric again. “The grey with the blue,” he said. “I think it matches the deep blue of your eyes.”
Lucy nodded. “It does actually match her eyes. Well spotted . . .”
David paid Sarah for his mother’s alterations, while Lucy went through to the stockroom to check on the new delivery. He put a card on the counter with his name, address and phone number on it. “I’m hoping you’ll still call out to visit us some time around Christmas.”
“Hopefully I’ll get time.” Sarah did not to look directly at him.
“Just give a ring and I’ll come and meet you off the bus.” He turned the card over. “I’ve written down the number of bus you catch from the station and the name of the road you should get off at.”
“Would it be okay if I brought one of the girls with me?” She made it sound casual.
“Yeah, no problem.” He just looked pleased that her visit seemed more definite.
“My granny and granddad live a few houses down from us, so we can either go down to them or they’ll come up to our house.”
“It’s really nice of them to invite me, and I’m looking forward to meeting them.” She hoped he got the point that she was coming to meet his Irish relations rather than going to see him.
Just as he was leaving he said, “Will you call over to the bookshop when you’ve finished work? There’s something that I want to give you.” Then, anticipating her reaction, he said. “It’s only something small . . . but I want you to have it to open on Christmas Day.”
Sarah’s heart sank. She hadn’t even written a Christmas card for him, so wary was she of encouraging him. “You shouldn’t have. I haven’t got anything for you.”
“I wasn’t expecting anything and I wasn’t planning on buying you a present, but then I saw this thing and I knew you would like it.”
There was a small silence.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll call over and collect it when the shop is closed.”
As she watched him cross the road back to the bookshop, Sarah though how bad she felt being so stand-offish and cool with him, because he was such a nice, decent fellow. She wished she could be normal and go on dates with somebody like David McGuire who was intelligent and could talk about anything – and who could make her laugh. Someone who was so similar to herself in many ways, even though he was English. She wished that Harriet hadn’t set her cap at him which made things more awkward. But most of all, she wished she hadn’t the deadness inside that Con Tierney and Patricia Quinn had caused.
* * *
Harriet came rushing into Harrison’s just before five o’clock.
“Here you are,” she said, giving Sarah and Lucy a Christmas card. “I’ve been so busy today that I didn’t get a chance to call in before now.”
Sarah gave her the Victorian-style card with sparkly snow on it she had under the counter, and they chatted for a while about their plans for Christmas and then Lucy came out from the kitchen with a parcel and a card for Harriet.
“You shouldn’t have!” Harriet said, shaking her head.
“It’s just a little thanks for everything you’ve done,” Lucy said quietly.
There was a slight awkwardness and then it dawned on Sarah that Lucy wanted to speak to the nurse in private, and she found an excuse to go into the kitchen. Over the months since being in the shop, she realised that Harriet knew a side to Lucy that she didn’t, and one that Lucy didn’t want to reveal to her.
She came back into the shop when Harriet called goodbye in to her.
“I’m just going over to drop a card into the bookshop for Mr McGuire,” Harriet said. “I was hoping I might see him over Christmas but it’s not looking very likely.”
Sarah walked her to the door. “Are you free any day between Christmas and New Year?”
“Why?” Harriet asked. “What have you in mind?
“Something you’ll find more interesting than me – a visit to David’s family.”
“You’re joking!” Harriet’s hands came to cover her face. “Why are you going there?”
“It’s got nothing to do with David,” Sarah said quickly. “His grandparents are from Ireland – from a county next to the one I’m from – and his mother invited me to meet them. I’ve bumped into her and David at Mass in the cathedral a few times.”
“Catholics – of course.” Harriet paused. “Does he know you were going to ask me?”
Sarah shrugged. “I said I was bringing a friend. I didn’t want to say it was you until I’d asked you.”
Harriet looked across to the shop. “Do you think I should say anything about it when I’m dropping off the card?”
“It’s up to you . . .”
“I’ll see if it comes up in the conversation.” She suddenly stopped and gestured towards the window. “Oh, there he is coming out of the bookshop now! I’ll run out and catch him with the card.”
She was gone less than a minute and Sarah noticed the light in her eyes when she returned all breathless.
“He was rushing to collect something from one of the shops before it closed but he seemed pleased with the card and he said we’d no doubt bump into each other over Christmas.” She halted. “Do you think that sounds hopeful?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, “and any time I’ve seen you both chatting, he’s seems very relaxed with you.”
“I really feel if we got the chance to spend more time together that he’d see we had such a lot in common.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “But maybe I’m only deluding myself . . .”
Sarah touched her arm. “Sometimes these things take time.”
“There wasn’t time to mention anything about going out to his house with you. But it might be best to surprise him.” Harriet shrugged. “Christmas is a time when everyone is relaxed and nice to each other, so it might be a good opportunity. When should we go?”
“Are you off the day after St Stephen’s Day?”
Harriet wrinkled her brow. “St Stephen’s Day?”
Sarah looked at her and then laughed. “I said it without thinking – you call it Boxing Day.”
Harriet smiled and nodded. “I’m off the week between Christmas and New Year, so the twenty-seventh is fine by me.”
“David has given me the house phone number, so I’ll phone them in the next few days and check the time, and then I’ll phone you and let you know when we’ll meet up.”
“Lucy has my phone number,” Harriet said. She pulled on her woollen gloves then clapped her hands together. “Thanks, Sarah, that’s given me something to look forward to!”
After work, Sarah was almost half-way down the lane and heading for home when she remembered the present that David had asked her to collect. She stopped for a few minutes, deciding whether or not to go back for it. The thought of taking a gift from her made her feel very awkward, but David was so nice she really couldn’t bring herself to be rude enough to ignore him.
She turned and slowly walked back up to the shop.
He was standing by the till counter chatting to Mrs Price, his oldest assistant, when Sarah walked in. He smiled when he saw her and winked. Mrs Price moved towards the back of the bookshop and David went around the counter to retrieve the gift.
As he came towards her Sarah noticed his face and neck starting to turn red and she could tell he was feeling anxious. She wondered why, because he always seemed so cocksure about things.
“It’s nothing big,” he said, handing it to her. It was carefully wrapped in black and gold paper with a gold bow on it.
“It looks lovely . . .” Sarah said, her own face hot now. “But you really shouldn’t have.” She could tell by the size and feel of the present that it was obviously a book.
“I just thought it was something you would like.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said. “I’ll look forward to opening it on Christmas Day.”
Chapter 24
On Christmas Eve Sarah stood in a queue in the off-licence department of one of the local stores waiting to pay for a bottle of sherry for Lucy. As she held the dark blue bottle, her thoughts turned towards Ireland – to the previous Christmas – when she had brought a bottle of sherry to Sheila’s house. A heaviness came into her chest as her mind went back to previous, happy Christmases when her father was alive, and further back to when her mother was alive. Back to Christmases when she felt she belonged in the house she was born in. Bitterness then started to creep in as she imagined James and Martina all cosy together back in the cottage, delighted with the new yellow room. The room that should still be hers. The room where the perfectly stitched wedding dress had hung.
She dragged her mind away to pay for the sherry, and then as she walked back to the house she made herself repeat the words of the new Beatles song, “I Want To Hold Your Hand”, over and over in her head to drown out the thoughts of Ireland.
Lucy called to Victoria Street at half past seven to collect her as planned, and when Sarah opened the door she was surprised to see her dressed in light tan slim-fitting trousers with a black ribbed polo-neck sweater and pearls. Her dark thick hair was loose and flowing.
“Lucy, you look really lovely!” Sarah blurted before she had time to think about it. “I don’t know whether it’s the very fashionable clothes or what, but you look much younger.”
Lucy looked startled for a moment, and then she blushed and smiled. “Well, thank you . . . that’s very kind of you to say.” She looked down at the trousers. “I wasn’t too sure about them, but the saleslady said they looked fine. I’m not terribly adventurous about new styles, but I must say they are very comfortable.”
“Where did you get them?”
“I bought them in a new shop up near the bus station. Everything is well-priced in it. They had the trousers in black as well, so if they look so nice I might treat myself to another pair after Christmas.”
“I wouldn’t mind a pair myself,” Sarah told her. “You could wear them with anything.”
“I’m sure you could probably make them quite easily.”
“Yes, but it’s nice to just walk in and buy something now and again.” She looked down at her blue wool costume and pale-blue buttoned blouse. “I feel quite old-fashioned beside you.”
Lucy laughed. “You look perfectly elegant as always, and if it’s any consolation, I spend most of the time feeling old-fashioned compared to you!”
“Well, we’re a pair together then,” Sarah said, laughing too. It was strange, she thought, how different she viewed Lucy now to the way she did when they first met.
When they arrived at the seasonally decorated house, Sarah gave her host a big purple ribboned box of Cadbury’s Milk Tray and the bottle of sherry. She had also brought two plum tasselled velvet cushion covers, as Lucy had admired similar ones she had made for a customer.
“These are gorgeous!” Lucy said, holding one of the cushion covers up to the light. I love the piping along the edges and they are just perfect for the armchairs.”
“I thought you could see how they looked,” Sarah said, “and if you like them I can make another few for the sofa.”
“I love them, but you’ve been much too generous.”
Sarah felt a little glow knowing that she had got things right with her choice of gifts. And the best one was still to come: she had carefully wrapped a pair of fine black leather gloves from Fenwick’s for Lucy to open on Christmas morning.
Although she spent almost every day with Lucy in the shop, she had been slightly nervous about spending two nights as a guest in such a fine house. While they had the same attitudes to work, she was aware that her employer was from a wealthier and more sophisticated class than her own family, and she had wondered if their differences would be more obvious in this setting.
She had brought her newest pyjamas and dressing-gown and slippers, and carried them all in a smart olive-green weekend case which she had bought this afternoon especially for her visit. The suitcase she had brought all her belongings in when she came over to Newcastle was much too big, and she didn’t want to arrive at Lucy’s with a shopping bag, so she went into The Saddle Shop at the top of Pilgrims Lane where she had seen smaller bags and cases in the window. The serious-looking man in the shop enquired as to whether a small overnight case would do for Madam, or whether she might need something bigger like a weekend case. Then, he had brought her a sample of both cases so she might see the difference.
“It all depends on whether you are planning to travel much,” the man said. “An overnight is fine for just that – one night – whereas the weekend one will take you anywhere.”
She had never had the occasion to use a weekend case before, and felt quite sophisticated when she came out of the department store, thinking that she must start to visit some of the popular places like Whitley Bay, Scarborough and Blackpool that she had heard people talking about.
After Sarah took her case and handba
g up to the big bedroom with the dark mahogany furniture where she would sleep for the night, the two women sat in armchairs at either side of a log fire drinking sherry and eating sandwiches and mince pies.
They listened to a music show on the radio, and afterwards, Lucy brought them out a tumbler each of Snowball, a yellowish sweet drink which Sarah loved.
“It’s not a strong drink,” Lucy told her, “but it’s nice for Christmas.”
Later, they ate some of the chocolates and sipped Babycham from the flat, gold-rimmed glasses with the perky little deer on the on the side, while watching a silly comedy film.
Sarah was relieved that, instead of feeling that them spending Christmas together was a last resort, Lucy was openly delighted to have her company. Sarah thought that she had never seen her so relaxed and chatty. As she sat sank in the deep armchair, full of lovely food and drink, she thought how cosy and relaxed she felt in this house. If she worked hard enough, she thought, one day she might have a house like this.
At the last advertisement break in the film, Lucy went into the kitchen and came back with two mugs of cocoa and they sipped it through the remainder of the film.
“Are you looking forward to going to the New Year’s Ball?” Lucy said as she switched the television off.
“Not really, I’ve no great interest in things like that . . . but it was very nice of Jane to buy me the ticket.”
“I bet you’ll enjoy it more than you think.”
“Well, hopefully I will. The girls said it’s always a lovely meal and they have a good band playing.”
“The ballroom in The Station Hotel is very big, so presumably there will be a good crowd at it.” Lucy paused, thinking. “There will be a lot of doctors at it as well.”
Sarah gave a little sigh. “I hope I don’t feel too out of it. The other girls all work in the local hospitals so they’ll know lots of people.”
“Yes, but there’s a huge staff – hundreds of people working in all the different departments – and they can’t possibly all know each other.” She smiled. “You never know, you might meet a handsome doctor who’ll make all your dreams come true.”
Sarah Love Page 19