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Authors: Linda Finlay
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stomach was growling. It had been a long morning and Nicco hadn’t stopped for a picnic this time, no doubt thinking she’d then be starving come supper time.
‘Actually, I wish to discuss an aspect of your work,’ Mr Fairbright said, unwrapping her parcel. Carefully he spread her frocks over his desk. ‘Oh, no,’ he groaned, frowning over his glasses.
CHAPTER 7
‘Is there something wrong?’ she whispered, staring down at the knits her mother had inspected before she packed them.
‘I see there are only eleven here and I commissioned you to bring me twelve. I’ve already promised them to an important customer as well,’ Mr Fairbright frowned.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Fairbright. I was about to explain that my grandmother has been ill and although we worked long nights trying to make up her quota, we didn’t quite make it.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. She is quite recovered?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Merry answered, beginning to worry, for the man was still frowning. ‘But there’s nothing wrong with our actual knitting?’
‘On the contrary, it’s the quantity that might pose a problem. Oh well, it can’t be helped. I do need your assurance this won’t happen again or …’ He shrugged and left the sentence hanging in the air.
Merry nodded. ‘I promise you will have the full quota next time.’
‘Good. As I suspected, your shell design has proved particularly popular. However …’ he was interrupted by Miss Brown arriving with their refreshment.
‘Just leave the tray there, please,’ he instructed, nodding towards the table in the corner. ‘Thank you, Miss
Brown,’ he said pointedly as the woman hovered. There was a sniff and then the door shut loudly behind her. Mr Fairbright didn’t seem to notice as he resumed his inspection of Merry’s work.
‘Exemplary,’ he pronounced. ‘Though, of course, I can only pay you for the eleven.’
‘I wouldn’t expect anything else,’ Merry said, suppressing a sigh of relief. Mr Fairbright wrote something on a slip of paper, then handed it to her.
‘Show that to Miss Brown when you leave. She will make the payment and provide you with sufficient wool for next time,’ he said. ‘I assume you still have the yarn for the one your grandmother has yet to make?’
‘Yes, of course.’
He nodded. ‘Now let’s have our elevenses, as my mother insists on calling them,’ he said, grinning as he passed her a delicate china plate on which nestled a huge wedge of pound cake. ‘Miss Brown seems to have got the message,’ he winked. ‘It’s quite a trek from Porthsallos, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Merry said quickly, fearful in case he should cancel his order.
He watched her over his glasses as he sipped his drink. ‘I have been asked if I can provide good-quality plain knit frocks with pockets for men’s watches. Would that be possible?’
‘Goodness me, yes,’ Merry cried. ‘Does that mean you want more of the plain ones then?’
‘It does. Eight of them by next month, in fact, plus four with that unique shell design. It’s a shame you can’t provide more, but keeping the numbers low will create
demand. There’s nothing like letting people think they can’t have something for them to decide they must have it,’ he chuckled.
Merry frowned. ‘You’ll need less of the fancies, then?’
‘For the time being. I’ll see how things work out. In the meantime, I shall pay you the same rate for the plain ones with pockets as I do the fancies. Is that acceptable, Miss Dyer?’ he asked.
‘Yes indeed, Mr Fairbright.’
‘Now, if you’ve finished your refreshment, please ask Miss Brown to make an appointment for the same time next month. I’m trusting you will have the full consignment then. Good day, Miss Dyer,’ he said, getting to his feet.
‘Good day, Mr Fairbright, and thank you.’
Miss Brown all but snatched the chit from her hand before slapping a parcel of wool on the counter. Then Merry watched as she began
‘Actually, I wish to discuss an aspect of your work,’ Mr Fairbright said, unwrapping her parcel. Carefully he spread her frocks over his desk. ‘Oh, no,’ he groaned, frowning over his glasses.
CHAPTER 7
‘Is there something wrong?’ she whispered, staring down at the knits her mother had inspected before she packed them.
‘I see there are only eleven here and I commissioned you to bring me twelve. I’ve already promised them to an important customer as well,’ Mr Fairbright frowned.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Fairbright. I was about to explain that my grandmother has been ill and although we worked long nights trying to make up her quota, we didn’t quite make it.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. She is quite recovered?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Merry answered, beginning to worry, for the man was still frowning. ‘But there’s nothing wrong with our actual knitting?’
‘On the contrary, it’s the quantity that might pose a problem. Oh well, it can’t be helped. I do need your assurance this won’t happen again or …’ He shrugged and left the sentence hanging in the air.
Merry nodded. ‘I promise you will have the full quota next time.’
‘Good. As I suspected, your shell design has proved particularly popular. However …’ he was interrupted by Miss Brown arriving with their refreshment.
‘Just leave the tray there, please,’ he instructed, nodding towards the table in the corner. ‘Thank you, Miss
Brown,’ he said pointedly as the woman hovered. There was a sniff and then the door shut loudly behind her. Mr Fairbright didn’t seem to notice as he resumed his inspection of Merry’s work.
‘Exemplary,’ he pronounced. ‘Though, of course, I can only pay you for the eleven.’
‘I wouldn’t expect anything else,’ Merry said, suppressing a sigh of relief. Mr Fairbright wrote something on a slip of paper, then handed it to her.
‘Show that to Miss Brown when you leave. She will make the payment and provide you with sufficient wool for next time,’ he said. ‘I assume you still have the yarn for the one your grandmother has yet to make?’
‘Yes, of course.’
He nodded. ‘Now let’s have our elevenses, as my mother insists on calling them,’ he said, grinning as he passed her a delicate china plate on which nestled a huge wedge of pound cake. ‘Miss Brown seems to have got the message,’ he winked. ‘It’s quite a trek from Porthsallos, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Merry said quickly, fearful in case he should cancel his order.
He watched her over his glasses as he sipped his drink. ‘I have been asked if I can provide good-quality plain knit frocks with pockets for men’s watches. Would that be possible?’
‘Goodness me, yes,’ Merry cried. ‘Does that mean you want more of the plain ones then?’
‘It does. Eight of them by next month, in fact, plus four with that unique shell design. It’s a shame you can’t provide more, but keeping the numbers low will create
demand. There’s nothing like letting people think they can’t have something for them to decide they must have it,’ he chuckled.
Merry frowned. ‘You’ll need less of the fancies, then?’
‘For the time being. I’ll see how things work out. In the meantime, I shall pay you the same rate for the plain ones with pockets as I do the fancies. Is that acceptable, Miss Dyer?’ he asked.
‘Yes indeed, Mr Fairbright.’
‘Now, if you’ve finished your refreshment, please ask Miss Brown to make an appointment for the same time next month. I’m trusting you will have the full consignment then. Good day, Miss Dyer,’ he said, getting to his feet.
‘Good day, Mr Fairbright, and thank you.’
Miss Brown all but snatched the chit from her hand before slapping a parcel of wool on the counter. Then Merry watched as she began
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