seemed to extend forever into a dark back area and the counter was lit only by a weak bulb. Not a very good advert for their lighting department, she thought.
Then someone cleared his throat. ‘Yes, young lady?’ An elderly man was behind the counter, stooping over it. ‘Is there something you wanted?’
Before she could answer, the door opened once more and in came a middle-aged woman, dressed as if she worked in an office. ‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I’ve come for the Denman and Sons order.’ Alison recognised the name of one of the oldest solicitors’ firms and of course the old man turned his attention to the new customer. ‘Mr Lanning!’ he called. ‘You’re needed at the front counter.’
Paul emerged from the gloom, wiping his hands on his brown overall. He grinned wickedly. ‘Good morning, miss,’ he said. ‘And how may I help you?’
Bravely Alison made herself smile back. ‘I’d like some string please.’
‘What sort of string? Garden twine? Parcel string? We’ve lots of string. If it’s string you’re after, you’ve come to the right place.’ Even in the semi-darkness she could see his eyes were twinkling.
‘Oh, not garden twine,’ she said. ‘Definitely not that. String suitable for tying around cuts of beef. And parcels of greaseproof paper.’
‘Ah, that sort of string. Well now, you’re in luck. Seeing as we are so close to a butcher’s we make sure to keep that kind in stock.’ He made his way to a set of drawers and pulled open one of them. ‘Here you are. Do you need a paper bag?’
‘No,’ said Alison, feeling a blush creep up her face. ‘I’ll put it in my pocket.’
‘If you’d care to come over to the till, miss,’ he said, grinning even more wickedly. As he took her money and gave her back the change his fingertips brushed her palm. She was sure he did it deliberately, and right under the eyes of his boss and the formidable office lady. It was all she could do to get out of the shop in one piece.
Well now, thought Paul. I’ve made her run away again. Even in the half-light of the hardware store he could tell she’d gone bright red. Maybe it was time to step things up a little and not to wait for events to take their course. He was tired of not having a woman. He didn’t want one permanently – or not one who looked as odd as this one did. But he needed the practice. She couldn’t get many offers with those looks. She’d be grateful. He liked the idea of taking advantage of that.
‘We’ve picked the date for the wedding, Mum,’ said Hazel. She was so excited she couldn’t even wait to get her coat off. ‘Second Saturday in September. So that’s seven months to get everything ready.’
‘And where’s the money to come from?’ asked Cora. She still hadn’t got through to her daughter that a big wedding was a waste.
‘You know Neville’s been working all hours,’ said Hazel. ‘He ain’t taken me to the cinema for weeks cos he’s been on extra shifts every weekend. He’s so tired he can hardly stand. And I’m only taking Sundays off from now on. So that’ll all add up.’
‘And it helps that I’m bringing home decent food,’ Alison said, wishing they’d acknowledge her efforts.
‘That’s as may be,’ snapped Cora, ‘but it’s only offcuts. Fred couldn’t sell that stuff. So don’t you go getting above yourself, thinking you’re bringing us home something special.’ In truth she wouldn’t be without the extra supplies and she’d got used to them very quickly but that was no reason to be soft on her youngest. ‘See if you can get something this weekend. Linda’s bringing June up for Sunday tea. A bit of ham for sandwiches would be a start.’
‘I’m sure that will be fine.’ Alison couldn’t do enough for her big sister and niece. ‘Fred wouldn’t object to that.’
‘I suppose you’re going to measure Linda for a bridesmaid’s frock?’ Cora said, busying herself laying the table. ‘Here, Alison.
Then someone cleared his throat. ‘Yes, young lady?’ An elderly man was behind the counter, stooping over it. ‘Is there something you wanted?’
Before she could answer, the door opened once more and in came a middle-aged woman, dressed as if she worked in an office. ‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I’ve come for the Denman and Sons order.’ Alison recognised the name of one of the oldest solicitors’ firms and of course the old man turned his attention to the new customer. ‘Mr Lanning!’ he called. ‘You’re needed at the front counter.’
Paul emerged from the gloom, wiping his hands on his brown overall. He grinned wickedly. ‘Good morning, miss,’ he said. ‘And how may I help you?’
Bravely Alison made herself smile back. ‘I’d like some string please.’
‘What sort of string? Garden twine? Parcel string? We’ve lots of string. If it’s string you’re after, you’ve come to the right place.’ Even in the semi-darkness she could see his eyes were twinkling.
‘Oh, not garden twine,’ she said. ‘Definitely not that. String suitable for tying around cuts of beef. And parcels of greaseproof paper.’
‘Ah, that sort of string. Well now, you’re in luck. Seeing as we are so close to a butcher’s we make sure to keep that kind in stock.’ He made his way to a set of drawers and pulled open one of them. ‘Here you are. Do you need a paper bag?’
‘No,’ said Alison, feeling a blush creep up her face. ‘I’ll put it in my pocket.’
‘If you’d care to come over to the till, miss,’ he said, grinning even more wickedly. As he took her money and gave her back the change his fingertips brushed her palm. She was sure he did it deliberately, and right under the eyes of his boss and the formidable office lady. It was all she could do to get out of the shop in one piece.
Well now, thought Paul. I’ve made her run away again. Even in the half-light of the hardware store he could tell she’d gone bright red. Maybe it was time to step things up a little and not to wait for events to take their course. He was tired of not having a woman. He didn’t want one permanently – or not one who looked as odd as this one did. But he needed the practice. She couldn’t get many offers with those looks. She’d be grateful. He liked the idea of taking advantage of that.
‘We’ve picked the date for the wedding, Mum,’ said Hazel. She was so excited she couldn’t even wait to get her coat off. ‘Second Saturday in September. So that’s seven months to get everything ready.’
‘And where’s the money to come from?’ asked Cora. She still hadn’t got through to her daughter that a big wedding was a waste.
‘You know Neville’s been working all hours,’ said Hazel. ‘He ain’t taken me to the cinema for weeks cos he’s been on extra shifts every weekend. He’s so tired he can hardly stand. And I’m only taking Sundays off from now on. So that’ll all add up.’
‘And it helps that I’m bringing home decent food,’ Alison said, wishing they’d acknowledge her efforts.
‘That’s as may be,’ snapped Cora, ‘but it’s only offcuts. Fred couldn’t sell that stuff. So don’t you go getting above yourself, thinking you’re bringing us home something special.’ In truth she wouldn’t be without the extra supplies and she’d got used to them very quickly but that was no reason to be soft on her youngest. ‘See if you can get something this weekend. Linda’s bringing June up for Sunday tea. A bit of ham for sandwiches would be a start.’
‘I’m sure that will be fine.’ Alison couldn’t do enough for her big sister and niece. ‘Fred wouldn’t object to that.’
‘I suppose you’re going to measure Linda for a bridesmaid’s frock?’ Cora said, busying herself laying the table. ‘Here, Alison.
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