hams. It was all
end of my tether, one
of these days I’ll throw myself in the river
. I jumped right in – sighed
along with them, threw my eyes up to heaven – and had a grand old time. Time went much
quicker once everyone was gabbing. When there was a lull, I swept the floor and polished
the counter. Once the place was spick and span, I felt great.
One morning, when it was quiet, Mrs Daly
swanned in. She couldn’t walk through a door without looking as if she’d
earned a round of applause. She was disappointed when she saw I was on my own. It
wasn’t the same if there were no men around; she got a lot of attention from them.
I couldn’t see the attraction myself: her cheeks were pockmarked from old acne but
seemingly she’d a nice figure. She was wearing widow’s weeds. Some said
she’d buried her respectability along with her husband. A nappy pin was keeping
her side zip together.
‘I could fix that for you,’ I
said, pointing towards her hip.
‘Ah, these new zip yokes are a
nuisance,’ she said. ‘I haven’t thepatience to do
it myself, always make a mess of it. Are you sure you could manage?’
She took out her compact, blotted the shine
on her forehead and tugged a few curls free from her headscarf. She was very proud of
her blue-black hair.
‘I can indeed,’ I said.
‘I’ll collect it from the house later today, bring it back and all.
I’ll be cheap.’
‘I’ve a few others, a waistband
or two that need letting out. There’d be no need to come to the house, though, I
can get Margery or Joan to drop them here.’
‘I’ll mend the lot.’
‘You won’t take too long? I
don’t want to be caught short.’ She smiled at her reflection and snapped her
compact shut.
‘A day, done in a day.’
She sent her daughter Joan over with the
garments later. Joan was still waiting for her good figure to arrive and it made her
grumpy. You should’ve seen the greasy waistbands. Nell Nickety Nackety Daly
didn’t even launder them before she handed them over. I planned to charge her the
price of a zip and a few pence. I’d let on that I’d bought the zip in the
drapery. One from a skirt of Mam’s would do the trick; she was wearing her old
clothes again. Her usual few skirts had been sitting in the airing cupboard for months
now. While all the other women her age were getting fatter, Mam was getting thinner. I
couldn’t credit that people would pay for such small jobs. Perhaps Mrs Daly would
recommend me to her friends. I imagined the pennies adding up and me buying yards of
silks and satins.
Carmel came down early that afternoon. She
seemed happy enough with my work. I told her all about Mrs Daly and my sewing job.
Carmel fingered the slack material around her own waist – maybe she’d want the
smock altered. She looked fresher than before. I hoped she wasn’t getting so well
that she didn’t need me any more.
Dan came in then. Carmel scooped a few acid
drops from a jar, popped them in the pocket of my apron and told me to head off home.
Any price for a moment alone with her husband: she was pure mad about her child
bridegroom.
I rushed to the market square, worried that
the herbalist would be gone already. It was late in the day and had started to rain. I
couldn’t believe my luck. All the stall-holders except the fishwife had left – she
was entertaining her cronies with some yarn or other – but the herbalist was there,
packing his wares into a suitcase. His table was folded and set against the wall. Even
with the soft rain he took his time. He wore a suede brown hat instead of the white one.
Old vegetables and whatnot were strewn on the ground. I felt ashamed, him looking so
clean, and that he’d think we were a dirty class of people. I walked over to him.
I said nothing, I’d nothing to say. I just smiled, and waited. He didn’t
seem to notice. Was he going to ignore me altogether? I began to feel stupid. He looked
up from his suitcase: his skin was slick with rain, and his
end of my tether, one
of these days I’ll throw myself in the river
. I jumped right in – sighed
along with them, threw my eyes up to heaven – and had a grand old time. Time went much
quicker once everyone was gabbing. When there was a lull, I swept the floor and polished
the counter. Once the place was spick and span, I felt great.
One morning, when it was quiet, Mrs Daly
swanned in. She couldn’t walk through a door without looking as if she’d
earned a round of applause. She was disappointed when she saw I was on my own. It
wasn’t the same if there were no men around; she got a lot of attention from them.
I couldn’t see the attraction myself: her cheeks were pockmarked from old acne but
seemingly she’d a nice figure. She was wearing widow’s weeds. Some said
she’d buried her respectability along with her husband. A nappy pin was keeping
her side zip together.
‘I could fix that for you,’ I
said, pointing towards her hip.
‘Ah, these new zip yokes are a
nuisance,’ she said. ‘I haven’t thepatience to do
it myself, always make a mess of it. Are you sure you could manage?’
She took out her compact, blotted the shine
on her forehead and tugged a few curls free from her headscarf. She was very proud of
her blue-black hair.
‘I can indeed,’ I said.
‘I’ll collect it from the house later today, bring it back and all.
I’ll be cheap.’
‘I’ve a few others, a waistband
or two that need letting out. There’d be no need to come to the house, though, I
can get Margery or Joan to drop them here.’
‘I’ll mend the lot.’
‘You won’t take too long? I
don’t want to be caught short.’ She smiled at her reflection and snapped her
compact shut.
‘A day, done in a day.’
She sent her daughter Joan over with the
garments later. Joan was still waiting for her good figure to arrive and it made her
grumpy. You should’ve seen the greasy waistbands. Nell Nickety Nackety Daly
didn’t even launder them before she handed them over. I planned to charge her the
price of a zip and a few pence. I’d let on that I’d bought the zip in the
drapery. One from a skirt of Mam’s would do the trick; she was wearing her old
clothes again. Her usual few skirts had been sitting in the airing cupboard for months
now. While all the other women her age were getting fatter, Mam was getting thinner. I
couldn’t credit that people would pay for such small jobs. Perhaps Mrs Daly would
recommend me to her friends. I imagined the pennies adding up and me buying yards of
silks and satins.
Carmel came down early that afternoon. She
seemed happy enough with my work. I told her all about Mrs Daly and my sewing job.
Carmel fingered the slack material around her own waist – maybe she’d want the
smock altered. She looked fresher than before. I hoped she wasn’t getting so well
that she didn’t need me any more.
Dan came in then. Carmel scooped a few acid
drops from a jar, popped them in the pocket of my apron and told me to head off home.
Any price for a moment alone with her husband: she was pure mad about her child
bridegroom.
I rushed to the market square, worried that
the herbalist would be gone already. It was late in the day and had started to rain. I
couldn’t believe my luck. All the stall-holders except the fishwife had left – she
was entertaining her cronies with some yarn or other – but the herbalist was there,
packing his wares into a suitcase. His table was folded and set against the wall. Even
with the soft rain he took his time. He wore a suede brown hat instead of the white one.
Old vegetables and whatnot were strewn on the ground. I felt ashamed, him looking so
clean, and that he’d think we were a dirty class of people. I walked over to him.
I said nothing, I’d nothing to say. I just smiled, and waited. He didn’t
seem to notice. Was he going to ignore me altogether? I began to feel stupid. He looked
up from his suitcase: his skin was slick with rain, and his
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