She dipped her head, feeling helpless. ‘No one can help. I’ve tried so hard, but it’s no good. Everyone says I’m stupid.’ Her mouth thinned in frustration. ‘I’m not. Why can’t I do it?’
‘Do what, Amy?’ Ted spoke gently, seeing how upset she was.
Realizing what she had nearly done, she sat up straight and smiled brightly. ‘Oh, it’s nothing. I found the work a bit confusing, but I’ll soon get used to it. I didn’t know there were so many different styles of shoes. And out the back they’ve got a big room absolutely packed with boxes.’ She was babbling, but she didn’t care. She had nearly told him she couldn’t read. The only place she hadn’t been able to hide the fact had been at school, but she wasn’t ever going to let anyone know again. She would work out some way to manage at the shop, just as she had at the factory. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘All right, Amy.’ His smile was wry. ‘If you don’t want to talk about it, let’s have tea and eat our sandwiches.’
Relieved she hadn’t blurted out her secret, she took the sandwiches out of her bag, opened the packet and held them out to him. ‘I’ve only got bread and jam, but would you like one?’
‘I would, thank you.’ He took one and they began to talk about all sorts of things.
Gradually she found herself relaxing in his company, enjoying the stories about some of his more eccentric customers, which made her laugh.
When it was time to go back to the shop, she didn’t feel so agitated. If she kept calm everything would be all right. She hurried up the road, determined to do well in the afternoon.
But when she saw the manager waiting for her, her confidence seeped away and she knew she was going to have to be very clever to stop them finding out.
As she was the junior assistant she couldn’t serve a customer until the other two senior assistants were busy. She watched every move they made, following them when they went round the back to get shoes from stock. Every bill was scrutinized with great care as it was made out, and she was pleased to see that there wasn’t much to put on the slip; as long as she got the price right, they might not notice her spelling mistakes.
It was the middle of the afternoon before they were busy enough for her to have a customer of her own. It was an elderly woman who reminded her of her gran, and she went up to her all smiles, copying what the other assistants did.
‘Can I help you, madam?’
‘I’d like a pair of black lace-ups.’ She sat down heavily and sighed. ‘My bunion’s killing me in these. They’re too tight.’
‘Let me have a look.’ Amy felt completely at ease with this customer, even though she knew the manager was watching her closely.
Removing the right shoe she ran her fingers over the woman’s foot, feeling the distortion near the big toe, exactly the same as her granny had had. She had always worn a slightly larger shoe to give her more room. ‘You need something in very soft leather so it doesn’t press too much.’
‘That sounds good.’ The woman smiled at her. ‘Can you find me something?’
‘I’m sure I can. What size do you take?’
‘A five.’
‘Why not try a half-size larger just to see if that feels better?’
‘Worth a go, I suppose.’
With another smile, Amy went to the stockroom. She had seen something this morning. Now where was it?
The manager was right behind her and she struggled to keep calm. If she didn’t then she would never get through this. She looked up at him. ‘What do you think would suit the customer, sir?’
‘What size did she want?’
‘Five, sir.’
‘And you suggested a half-size larger, didn’t you?’ He pulled out a box. ‘This is a five and a half.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Now she had the shoes she needed to find out the price. She deliberately turned the box label away from her as if searching for the price. ‘I hope these aren’t too expensive.’
‘They are eight and sixpence.’ The manager turned the box round for her to see.
After pretending to read it, she smiled confidently. ‘Ah, that’s right. Madam might be able to afford these.’
He nodded. ‘Let’s see if you can sell those to her.’
Amy went back into the shop. ‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, madam. Try these and see if they are more comfortable, and if not we’ll find you something else.’ She had been listening to the other two assistants’ sales patter and copied them with ease.
The shoes fitted perfectly and when the woman walked up and down, she smiled in relief. ‘Oh, these feel wonderful. That extra half-size was a good idea of yours.’
‘My grandmother had the same problem and she used to wear a slightly larger size.’
‘Ah, well, you know what you’re talking about.’ The woman sat down again. ‘I’m glad you served me. Now, how much are they?’
‘Eight and sixpence, madam.’ She had been saying the amount over and over in her head so she didn’t forget it. ‘They are of the softest leather and will last you a long time if you keep them polished.’
‘Quite right. You are a sensible girl.’ The customer looked at the manager who was still hovering in case Amy made a mistake and lost the sale. ‘Good girl you’ve got here, and such a lovely smile.’
He bowed slightly. ‘I am pleased you are satisfied with the service, madam.’
‘Indeed I am.’ She handed Amy her old shoes. ‘Wrap these up for me, dear. I’ll wear the new ones.’
Amy put them in the box, her heart pounding. Now all she had to do was write out the sales slip. All!
She wrote very carefully, knowing it would be fatal to rush. It looked all right when she’d finished but she was careful not to let the manager see, then she took a pound note from the customer and went to the pay desk.
Much to her relief the cashier didn’t question the bill and Amy hurried back with the customer’s change.
She was shaking by the time the woman left the shop. Had she got away with it?
‘That was a good sale, Miss Carter, and you had a pleasant way with the customer. Keep that up and you will do well here.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
He left then, and when she had another customer an hour later, he was nowhere to be seen. Luckily, one of the other assistants was in the back and Amy pleaded ignorance of the system and the shoes were found for her. She made another sale and was relieved to have survived so far.
There was a tap on the studio door and Ted walked in. ‘Am I disturbing you, Ben?’
‘No, I’ve just finished for the day.’ He wiped his hands with a cloth dipped in turps.
‘That’s good.’ Ted studied the landscape and grinned when Ben pulled a face. ‘Are you ever satisfied with your work?’
‘If I ever get to that point I’ll stop trying to improve.’
‘Hmm, Howard’s the same, I think. I swear he throws those pots across the room sometimes.’
‘He does.’ Ben began cleaning his brushes. ‘How’s business?’
‘Ticking over.’ Ted sat on the stool. ‘Amy came to see me today in her break, and she was in a terrible state.’
‘Oh?’ Ben stopped what he was doing. ‘Wasn’t the job at the shop going well?’
‘I don’t know. She seemed on the point of telling me something, and then changed her mind. The smile she gave me as she offered me one of her jam sandwiches was very forced.’ Ted shook his head. ‘Something was worrying her, I’d bet my shop on it.’
Ben opened his pad at the sketches of Amy he had done by the river. ‘I felt there was worry and frustration in her eyes when I met her.’
Ted examined the pictures. ‘A secret, that’s what you’ve captured. I had the strong feeling today that she’s hiding something she doesn’t want anyone to know about.’
Ben whistled through his teeth. ‘That’s very observant of you. I felt there was something, but I haven’t been able to pin it down, and that’s why I haven’t finished the portrait. It just isn�
��t right.’
‘She’s a strange little thing, with so much going on behind her eyes,’ Ted mused. ‘I wish I’d been able to get her to talk to me.’
‘Perhaps someone at the shop knew about her father.’
‘Maybe, and perhaps I’m just imagining things.’ Ted rubbed his chin. ‘That business with her father can’t be easy for her. I’m sure she doesn’t want anyone to find out about that.’
‘I agree, but we can’t force her to confide in us. When she knows us better she might talk more freely.’
‘You’re right, Ben. When she went back to work she was bright enough, so I expect I was making something out of nothing.’ Ted pulled a face and changed the subject. ‘Have you seen those drawings her grandmother did for her when she was teaching her to read?’
‘No, are they good?’
‘Yes, there was real talent there. She’s drawn the alphabet with a picture underneath for each letter. It would make a terrific children’s book.’
‘Are you thinking of doing something along those lines?’ Ben knew that the love of Ted’s life was books.
‘That’s a tempting idea, but much too expensive to produce with all those pictures. Pity though, because they are excellent.’
‘I’ll ask her to let me have a look at them. Perhaps Amy has inherited some of the talent?’ Ben leant against the bench. ‘She’s an intriguing girl, isn’t she? I’m just dying to get her to sit for me, so I can study her properly.’
Nodding, Ted walked over to the portrait, standing in front of it with his head on one side. ‘I think you’ve captured her very well.’
‘Do you think so?’ Ben joined him and shook his head. ‘No, it isn’t right. I’ve a feeling there’s a lot more to her than I’ve shown.’
Ted laughed. ‘You’re a perfectionist, Ben. The picture is beautiful.’
‘Perhaps, but it can be better. Now she’s living here I think I’ll start all over again.’
‘I think you just like painting her, Ben.’
‘I do, it’s a real challenge. I was captivated by her unusual face as soon as I saw her.’ Ben’s smile was wry. ‘Perhaps one day I’ll do a painting worthy of her. I can’t wait to see what she looks like in three or four years’ time.’
‘I don’t think she’ll ever be what is classed a beauty.’ Ted looked up at Ben, a question in his eyes. ‘What do you think?’
‘You’re right, but she has something much more enduring than beauty.’
‘Ah, the artist’s eye. I’m going to get myself something to eat now.’ Ted lifted his hand in a wave and left the studio.
Ben stayed where he was, studying the sketches through narrowed eyes. Yes, he’d start all over again as soon as he could get her up here. And if she stayed in the house he would do a sketch for every year of her life and see how much she changed as the years went by. That thought filled him with the kind of enthusiasm he’d felt when he had first met her sitting alone by the river with a dreamy expression on her face. He had wondered then what she had been thinking, and he was even more intrigued by her now. He was looking forward to delving below the surface and finding out what she was really like. And there was a great deal to find out, he was absolutely sure of that fact.
13
The buses were crowded and Amy had to let two go before she managed to squeeze on one. It was nearly seven when she reached home, where she made straight for the kitchen.
Ted was there. ‘Hello Amy, how did you get on this afternoon?’
‘I sold two pairs of shoes,’ she told him proudly, ‘and the manager told me I was good with the customers.’
He gave a quiet smile. ‘That’s good. Would you like a cup of tea?’
She nodded. ‘I’m gasping and I must get something to eat as well. All I’ve had were those jam sandwiches.’
‘That will never do. You must eat because you’re already too thin.’
‘Oh, I’ve always been skinny.’ She dismissed Ted’s concerns and opened the larder. ‘I’ll cook us both something for tea. Now, what have we got? Hmm, what about scrambled eggs on toast?’
‘That’ll do nicely.’
Amy spun round just as Ben and Howard sat at the table with expectant expressions on their faces.
‘Are you boys cadging again?’ Mrs Dalton swept in carrying a bowl full of eggs and holding them out for Amy. ‘Here, it looks as if you’re going to need these, but don’t let them take advantage of you, Amy, they’re quite capable of getting their own food.’
There were at least a dozen eggs in the bowl and Amy took them gratefully. If she was going to feed the four of them, then they would be needed.
Ted took money out of his pocket. ‘How much do we owe you, Mrs Dalton?’
‘Nothing, Ted, I don’t mind giving you and my children a few eggs.’ Her smile was affectionate as she looked at Amy. ‘How did your first day at the shop go?’
‘Quite well. The manager was pleased with me.’
‘Good girl, I knew you’d do well.’
Praise was something Amy had had very little of in the past and she felt herself colour with pleasure. It made her all the more determined to make a success of the new job. ‘Would you like some tea as well, Mrs Dalton?’
‘No thank you, my dear. I’m visiting friends this evening so I’ll leave you to it.’ Giving everyone another broad smile, she left the kitchen.
‘Well!’ Ben’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I know she likes to mother us, but that’s the first time she’s ever called us her children.’
Howard sat back, balancing his chair on the back legs. ‘In that case, do you think she’ll let us off the rent this week?’
‘Why don’t you two make more effort to sell your work?’ Ted was shaking his head as he looked at the boys. ‘You’re both very talented.’
Ben shrugged his shoulders. ‘There’s a depression on, Ted. People aren’t spending money on luxuries, and that’s what we produce.’
‘I’m well aware of the economic situation, but those with money are still buying.’
‘If they are then they’re not coming our way.’ Howard ran his fingers over the contours of the cruet set in the middle of the table, his expression gloomy.
‘What about that gallery or shop you’re always talking about? You could probably rent premises quite reasonably at the moment.’
‘We still need money to do it though, Ted.’ Howard stood up and pulled out the linings of his pockets. ‘Look, I haven’t got a penny to my name.’
All the time the discussion was going on, Amy busied herself cooking their tea. When she served it up the boys attacked it as if they hadn’t eaten for a week, uttering moans of appreciation and making her smile.
‘You’re a lifesaver!’ Howard’s gloom had disappeared. ‘Will you paint me some more vases and I’ll see if I can sell them?’
‘All right.’
‘Amy, Ben would like to see the drawings your grandmother did for you.’ Ted said, pouring them all another cup of tea.
Ben cleared his plate and smiled. ‘Ted told me they’re very good.’
Seeing they had almost finished eating, she cleared a space on the table. ‘I’ll get them now.’
She was soon back with the precious sheets and spread them out so Ben could see them.
‘You’re right, Ted, they are good.’
Kneeling on a chair, elbows on the table, Amy beamed proudly. ‘My gran was ever so clever. She could draw, sew, and she knew lots about all sorts of things.’
‘Everyone’s clever at something or other, but we all have different talents.’ Ben winked at her. ‘You’re an excellent cook, and I’m sure you have many more talents.’
That made her giggle. ‘Scrambled eggs isn’t cooking. Anyone can do that.’
‘I can’t, and neither can Howard. Our eggs end up like rubber.’
‘They certainly do.’ Howard, frowning fiercely, picked up the drawing of the cat.
‘That’s my favourite.’ Amy ran her finger over the cat’s face. �
�It looks as if he’s laughing.’
‘Hmm.’ The frown disappeared. ‘If I make some of these, will you paint them for me, Amy? They might sell in that little odds and ends shop in the King’s Road.’
Ben lifted his hands in horror. ‘I know we’re desperate, Howard, but cats…?’
‘It’s worth a try.’ Howard picked up the sheet. ‘Can I borrow this? I’ll take good care of it.’
She hesitated, remembering the chaotic mess of his workroom. ‘All right, but don’t get it dirty, will you?’
‘Promise.’ He grabbed a biscuit from the plate Amy had put on the table, and left the kitchen to start right away.
Ben also stood up then. ‘Don’t forget you promised to sit for me, Amy. When do you think you can come up to my studio? I’d like to finish your portrait. It must be in daylight though.’
‘I have Wednesday afternoons off, will that be all right?’
‘That will be perfect.’ He stopped at the door and turned his head. ‘Thanks for the food.’
Ted also disappeared quickly, and she knew why the kitchen had emptied so rapidly. There was a pile of washing-up to do. But she didn’t mind and it was soon all clean and packed neatly away.
It was such a pleasure each time she walked into her lovely room knowing it was all hers and she was safe here. It was early November now, the nights were drawing in, and there was a real nip in the air. Switching on the small electric fire she pulled up the armchair and was about to settle herself in front of the warmth when there was a plaintive meow at the door. When she opened it, Oscar slid in, sat by the fire and began to wash, paying special attention to his whiskers.
‘You’ve had your tea then, have you?’ He looked up when she spoke, rumbled nicely, then returned to his cleaning.
Amy sat down, wondering how Howard was getting on with the model of the cat, for she couldn’t help thinking that Oscar was rather like that cat in the picture. Her musing brought her dear gran much closer and was comforting, but how she wished she were here now to talk to. Her first day at the shop had turned out all right, but she couldn’t keep pretending to lose her pen, or any of the other inventive ways she’d used to hide the fact that she couldn’t read or write very well. Still, what was it Mrs Dalton had said? Ah yes, one step at a time. That’s all she could do, get through one day at a time. She hadn’t done too badly so far. She gazed around the room, still not being able to believe her luck. She had a home, friends and a job. Everything was going to be all right.
One Step at a Time Page 11