The Sea Shell Girl

by Linda Finlay

  ‘Don’t tease the girl,’ her mother chided, her little blue necklace swinging back and forth as she shook her finger at the older woman. ‘It’s good to see you looking so well, dear. Now take off your bonnet and make yourself comfortable while I make a brew to keep us going till luncheon. The kettle’s on the boil.’

  Merry smiled: when wasn’t it?

  ‘Is Nicco not with you?’ Karenza asked, staring over Merry’s shoulder as if expecting him to materialize.

  ‘He’ll be down later to wish you happy birthday, Grozen. I promised him a piece of your cake.’

  ‘I should hope so, after him making that journey to collect you,’ Grozen muttered. ‘He’s a good boy, popping in like he has with news of your progress.’

  ‘I’ve only seen him once since I began work, Grozen,’ Merry pointed out. She was so busy looking around the familiar room that she didn’t notice her mother and grandmother exchanging knowing looks.

  ‘Don’t do to keep him waiting for too long. There’s plenty keen to jump in your shoes,’ Grozen sniffed.

  Not wanting to argue with her grandmother, Merry changed the subject.

  ‘Tell me how things are here. Mr Fairbright said he was pleased with the knitting you are producing and the way you have mastered the shell pattern.’

  ‘Fancy stitches. Don’t know what was wrong with the pattern you always knitted before,’ Grozen muttered.

  Karenza smiled. ‘Don’t go on, Mother; our Merry’s always been creative. Don’t forget it was her initiative to go and see Mr Fairbright in the first place that turned our fortunes round.’

  ‘I haven’t seen no riches,’ the woman muttered.

  Karenza smiled at Merry. ‘Don’t take any notice, Merry. She’s as happy as the rest of us to be getting a fair price for her work. The regular money’s meant we’ve been able to eat well and I don’t think you’re the only one who has plumped out a bit.’ Karenza leaned forward and patted her mother’s shoulder. ‘See, more meat than bone.’ The older woman narrowed her eyes, making them laugh.

  ‘About time we heard about life in the big town, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re right, Mother,’ Karenza nodded. ‘Mr Fairbright said he’s pleased with your progress but are you happy in your job? Are the others nice? Do you get time to rest?’

  ‘Steady on, Mother,’ Merry cried. ‘I’m enjoying my new work very much, though with the store being open from eight o’clock in the morning until ten at night, by the time we’ve eaten our supper we’re ready to fall into bed. The manageress is a bit of a tartar, though, and her breath smells like old cabbage.’

  ‘She should munch parsley then,’ Grozen muttered.

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ Merry agreed. ‘Anyway, the other trainees are really nice and, as you can tell, Joanie, the housekeeper, is a great cook. Not as good as you, of course, Mother,’ she added, sniffing the air.

  ‘Your mother got Ma Rooster to kill one of her chickens in your honour. Up at dawn plucking the thing, she was,’ Grozen said. ‘I said to her, it’s only our Merryn coming home, not royalty visiting.’

  ‘It’s in honour of your birthday, Mother. You know we are celebrating today whilst Merry is with us. Of course, if you’d prefer your normal pilchards …’

  ‘Didn’t say that, Karenza. If I eat any more of them I’ll look like a ruddy pilchard,’ the woman groaned. Merry and her mother laughed for, come the winter and the inevitable return to surviving on limpets, the woman would be lamenting the passing of the tasty silver fish.

  ‘Well, it should be about ready,’ her mother said, getting up and spreading her best embroidered cloth over the table. Merry set out the cutlery and by the time they sat down to enjoy their meal, it felt as if she’d never been away. The chicken was cooked to perfection, with the skin crispy, just how she liked it, and the potatoes, baked in the ashes, soft and fluffy inside their jackets. Her mother chattered about life in the village and seemed happier than Merry had ever seen her.

  ‘That Mr Fairbright put your mother in charge of the knitting,’ Grozen grinned. ‘Kelys got in a right strop. Still, the others were relieved not to have to deal with her funny moods, and they were only too happy to learn that fancy stitch of yours.’

  Merry smiled at her mother. ‘Well done, Mother. And talking of Mr Fairbright, that reminds me …’ she said, jumping up and pulling a wrapped package from her basket. ‘This is for you, Grozen, with happy birthday wishes.’

  ‘You shouldn’t go spending your money on gifts for …’ The woman stuttered to a halt as she held up the soft pink socks. ‘My, oh my,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘They’re bed-socks, Grozen. You know how cold your feet get in the winter.’

  ‘Oh, Merry, they’re quite beautiful, aren’t they, Mother?’ Karenza said, reaching out and stroking them. ‘They must have cost you a fortune.’

  Merry smiled. ‘Mr Fairbright let me have staff discount,’ she said proudly.

  ‘I shall wear them this very night,’ Grozen declared.

  ‘But it’s not winter yet,’ Merry pointed out.

  ‘Well, I’m getting on, you know. Why after tomorrow I shall be in my fifty-seventh year,’ the woman declared. They were still laughing when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘May I come in?’ Nicco called.

  ‘Get a move on, young man,’ Grozen called. ‘I’m waiting for a slice of my cake and you can’t hang around at my time of life, you know.’

  The rest of the afternoon passed quickly and it seemed like only minutes later that Nicco looked up at the clock on the shelf.

  ‘We’d best be making tracks,’ he said.

  Reluctantly, Merry gathered up her things, then kissed Grozen and her mother goodbye.

  ‘Come back soon,’ Karenza whispered, pulling her tight.

  ‘I will, Mother,’ she promised.

  CHAPTER 21

  It was only when Merry was lying in bed mulling over the events of the day that she realized she hadn’t had time to speak to her friends in the village. Nicco had rushed her back up the hill to where his horse was tethered, saying they needed to hurry if he was to get her back on time. Then, despite her asking him to take her round to the back of the store, he’d insisted on stopping outside the front door, shaking his head in disgust when she scuttled round to the trade entrance.

  ‘When we marry, you will enter that building through the front door,’ he had called after her.

  He was so bossy, she mused, sighing up at the inky sky. Then a thought struck her. How had he known she wore a grey cap at work? She knew she’d never mentioned it, and what was it Grozen had said about him reporting back to them on her progress? Surely he hadn’t been spying on her?

  Merry was still thinking of Nicco’s words when she entered the shop the next morning. However, she was brought sharply back to the present when she saw Mr Didcot waiting, a strange woman by his side.

  ‘Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to Mrs Winter, your new supervisor,’ he announced. ‘I am sure you will make her welcome and show her the way things are done here.’ They nodded, then smiled politely at the tall, dark-haired woman who stared back, her eyes as grey as the sea on a stormy day.

  ‘Blimey oh rimey,’ Freckles muttered. ‘She looks a right tartar.’

  The woman gave a sharp cough.

  ‘Did you say something, Miss Brice?’ Mrs Smale asked, narrowing her eyes at Freckles.

  ‘I asked if Mrs Winter would like a drink of water,’ Freckles replied.

  ‘If I require anything, I will let you know, thank you,’ the woman replied in a well-modulated voice.

  ‘Well, it’s good to see you making your new supervisor welcome. One point I wish to raise is that from today, the gaslights will be lit at dusk. It wouldn’t do for our clients not to be able to see what they are purchasing, although doubtless most will be wending their way home earlier now that the evenings are drawing in,’ Mr Didcot said, pointing to the globes on the wall, which Merry had hardly noticed before. ‘Now
, if you’ll excuse me …’ He gave a little bow and turned to leave.

  Mrs Smale waited until the sound of his cane tapping on the floor had receded, then clapped her hands.

  ‘Whilst I show Mrs Winter the contents of our display cabinets, you will clean and tidy the store ready for opening.’ Merry and Freckles exchanged looks, for having cleaned and tidied the store the night before, unless boggarts had been at play, there had been no one in the store to mess it up again. Surely their time could be better spent sorting through the stock? It was only when Mrs Smale frowned in their direction that they realized she was still talking.

  ‘Then, when you have dressed the window and partaken of breakfast, reassemble here for your daily instruction.’

  ‘We don’t have daily instruction, so what was all that about?’ Merry asked, as they duly began sweeping the already clean floor.

  ‘We do now, old love. Mrs Smale’s asserting her authority in front of the new supervisor. You know, establishing the pecking order,’ Freckles added when Merry looked askance.

  ‘Hierarchy,’ Prunella agreed, nodding. ‘It’s what our housekeeper always did when a new maid started.’

  ‘You have finished your task already, ladies?’ Mrs Smale enquired, her voice dripping sarcasm.

  ‘Better jump to it,’ Freckles whispered. ‘I’ve a feeling this is going to be a long day.’

  After a hurried bowl of porridge, they duly filed onto the shop floor and lined up in front of the manageress. Mrs Winter, however, continued inspecting a mannequin.

  ‘Mrs Winter, if you would like to come over here, I am ready to issue today’s directive,’ Mrs Smale ordered. The new supervisor narrowed her eyes and pointed to the dummy.

  ‘Wouldn’t the time be better spent redressing that … that effort?’ she replied.

  ‘I dressed the mannequin myself only last evening, thank you, Mrs Winter. Now if …’

  ‘It’s a bit summery for this time of year, though, don’t you think?’ the supervisor persisted.

  ‘No, actually I don’t,’ the manageress said. ‘I’m sure you mean to be helpful, Mrs Winter, especially as it’s your first day, but you must rely upon my experience. I know what our clients require.’

  ‘Really?’ she asked, quirking a brow, then shaking her head at the mannequin.

  ‘Yes, really. Now, Miss Prim, you will shadow myself today; Miss Dyer will shadow you, Mrs Winter, although, of course, you are free to ask me for any assistance you may require. Whilst the trainees are progressing well, they still require direction. Miss Brice will replenish the stocks and generally keep the place tidy.’

  ‘So what else is new?’ Freckles muttered.

  ‘Did you say something, Miss Brice?’ Mrs Smale frowned.

  ‘I said it must feel strange for Mrs Winter, being new,’ Freckles replied, smiling innocently.

  ‘I have worked in far grander places so this is …’ the supervisor shrugged. Fortunately, the ringing of the bell prevented further discussion.

  ‘Opening time, ladies. Assume your positions, please,’ Mrs Smale ordered.

  From the minute the doors were unlocked, they were rushed off their feet. Word about the store’s new part-ready clothing with finishing-off dressmaking service had spread over the summer, and by now they were regularly inundated with requests to see materials, buttons and silks.

  This was the favourite part of her job, Merry decided, as she held up a swathe of silvery silk, followed by blue, then emerald. The woman she was serving nodded.

  ‘I do believe I shall take all three. It is better to have more dresses than not enough, I always think,’ she announced.

  How lovely to be able to buy just what you wanted without having to count the cost, Merry thought, thinking of her one presentable dress, which was now fitting more snugly than was decent.

  ‘I understand you have a dressmaker on the premises. The party season is fast approaching and as I shall need my new attire by the end of the week, perhaps you could point me in the right direction?’

  ‘I will take you upstairs and introduce you,’ Mrs Winter offered.

  ‘No need to trouble yourself, Mrs Winter,’ Mrs Smale said, appearing at their side. ‘I will attend to modam.’

  ‘I am quite capable of seeing to my client,’ Mrs Winter assured her.

  ‘You will remain on the shop floor, Mrs Winter, and don’t forget to enter the purchases in the ledger,’ Mrs Smale hissed. Then with a bright smile she turned back to the client. ‘Do please follow me, modam.’ The woman stood there looking from one to the other of them. ‘I am the manageress, you see,’ Mrs Smale gushed, as with a triumphant smirk, she ushered the client out of the shop and towards the stairs.

  ‘Not for long,’ Merry heard the supervisor mutter. ‘Get this counter tidied at once, Miss Dyer,’ she snapped.

  The rest of the day passed in the same manner with the two women determined to outdo each other. Finally, after Mrs Smale had leaned across the counter and berated her for some minor detail, the supervisor turned to her.

  ‘Mrs Smale, I feel it my duty to point out that your breath smells less than fragrant.’

  ‘What did you say?’ the manageress gasped.

  ‘I said your breath reeks and in the interest of our clients I feel you should know,’ Mrs Winter smirked.

  ‘I’ll have you know my breath smells as fresh as sweet peas,’ Mrs Smale snapped.

  ‘More like marrowfat peas,’ Freckles whispered, nudging Merry in the ribs.

  ‘Kindly tidy the button drawer, Miss Brice,’ Mrs Smale ordered, glaring at Freckles.

  But as the woman turned back to the mannequin and began straightening the bonnet, Merry saw the hurt look in her eyes. Suddenly Merry felt sorry for the woman and going over to her, whispered, ‘My grandmother said that chewing parsley sweetens the breath and …’

  ‘When I need the advice of a country bumpkin I will ask for it, thank you, Miss Dyer. Now if you’ve nothing better to do than stand gossiping, you can polish the glass on the mirror in the dressing room.’

  The highlight of the day was the lighting of the gaslamps. Merry had never witnessed anything like it and found the rosy glow that lit up the store and the sound of the soft hissing strangely comforting. It was in stark contrast to the icy atmosphere between manageress and supervisor, and it was a relief when they’d finally cleared away for the day and the trainees could make their way to the staff-room.

  ‘What a day,’ Freckles muttered, sinking into her chair.

  ‘Mrs Smale and Mrs Winter are never going to get on, are they?’ Merry said, remembering the way they’d glared across the floor at each other, like two cats sizing each other up.

  ‘Mrs Winter does speak nicely, though,’ Prunella pointed out.

  ‘Hello there, is that your new supervisor you’re talking about?’ Chester asked, coming into the room closely followed by Teddy and Nicholas.

  ‘Afraid so,’ Merry sighed.

  ‘I don’t reckon she’s got any feelings. Cold as ice, she is,’ Freckles said, pretending to shiver. ‘She even told Mrs Smale straight to her face that her breath smelled. So now we’ve got Smelly and Frosty.’

  ‘And we’ve got Jerky and Perky,’ Teddy chortled.

  ‘Why Jerky and Perky?’ Prunella asked, looking at Nicholas, who looked embarrassed.

  ‘Old Jenkins’, hands shook so much when he was attempting to measure a client’s inside leg by the light from the gas globe, we renamed him,’ Teddy said.

  ‘And then we shortened Perkins to Perky to match,’ Chester added.

  ‘The supervisor’s first name is Jacqueline,’ Prunella told Nicholas. ‘I heard her telling Mr Didcot that she always has to spell it out for people. I think that’s such a pretty name.’

  Freckles burst out laughing. ‘So we’ve got our very own Jackie Frosty,’ she hooted.

  ‘I’m surprised to see you all in such good spirits,’ Joanie said, appearing with their supper. ‘After all that moaning you girls were doing at lunche
on I thought you’d never take to the woman.’

  ‘She’s all white, Joanie,’ Chester grinned.

  As they all dissolved into peals of laughter Joanie shook her head. ‘Mad as hatters, the lot of you. I’ll go and get the teapot.’

  ‘Frosty will never fit in,’ Freckles commented, helping herself to a slice of bread. ‘She’s too snooty and Smelly will never put up with her. Why, it’s already become the battle of the tongues.’

  Over the next couple of days, much to the amusement of the girls, the manageress and supervisor continued vying for supremacy although it was Mrs Smale who retained responsibility for the ledgers. When the store closed on Wednesday for the carriage trade, Mrs Smale turned to the supervisor.

  ‘Mrs Winter, as I have to carry out an important stocktake, I shall have to delegate you the onerous task of dealing with the servants,’ the manageress announced, a triumphant gleam lighting her eyes. If she expected the supervisor to demur, she was disappointed.

  ‘It will be a pleasure, Mrs Smale. I am honoured you deem me competent to the task after such a short time,’ she replied.

  Merry hid a smile for although the woman had answered politely enough, her lips had tightened into a determined line.

  She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, for the bell indicating the arrival of the first carriage was ringing out. Immediately, Mrs Winter set to, sorting the wrapped packages into orderly piles. She then instructed each of them to stand behind one so that instead of having to form a queue, the servants could be handed their mistresses’ purchases on arrival.

  ‘Hey, this is a turn-up and no mistake,’ one maid announced with glee. ‘Why, I’ll have time to have a browse round the market stalls.’

  ‘Keep your voice down, Nan,’ another servant muttered as Mrs Winter frowned in their direction. ‘’Tis a good idea, though. I’ll get Andy to wait by the pie stall.’

  ‘If we carry on like this we’ll be finished early so perhaps we can get away too,’ Freckles said, turning to Merry.

  ‘It would be nice to get some fresh air,’ she agreed, looking at the rapidly diminishing pile.

  ‘We’d better ask Mrs Winter’s permission first, though,’ Prunella said.