Page 26 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
‘Of course,’ Jack says, wheeling himself forwards. ‘Oil or watercolour?’
‘Oil, please. It’s all the wonderful skies and seas here,’ he explains to me. ‘I can’t stop painting them.’
The man pays Jack for the tube of paint. ‘So glad I found you,’ he says as he departs. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done if someone hadn’t told me you were on the high street.’
‘Call in any time!’ Jack calls as the man departs.
‘Will do!’ He waves back. ‘I’ll be sure to run out of something else if I carry on being this productive while I’m here!’
‘You might have found a gap in the market,’ I tell Jack as he pops the money into his till.
‘That’s the idea!’ Jack says. ‘I know most people buy their art equipment online these days, but I’m here to cater to those who have run out or forgotten something, or those who are inspired to start painting while they’re holidaying here. I’ve heard this place brings out the artistic side of people, sometimes when they don’t even know they have one!’
‘It’s true. St Felix always attracted artists for the incredible light. It was in the fifties, I believe, when they first began to travel here in number. Do you paint yourself?’
‘I dabble. I began during my rehabilitation and sort of carried on ever since. It’s very relaxing. You said you sew a lot of what you sell?’
‘Yes, with assistance.’
‘Helps if you know something about what you’re selling, eh?’
‘Definitely. Talking of which,’ I say, reminded of why I’m here, ‘you were going to tell me something yesterday about the equipment you bought from Noah.’
‘Ah, that.’ Jack looks as uncomfortable as he had last night when we’d spoken about it. ‘I wondered if you’d noticed anythingunusualabout your sewing machine?’
‘What sort ofunusual?’ I ask, equally as guarded as Jack.
‘I don’t know …’ Jack looks down at the ground. ‘Has it done anythingstrange?’
‘Define “strange”?’
‘Kate!’ Jack says in exasperation. ‘It’s quite obvious to me it has, or you wouldn’t be answering my questions with more questions of your own!’
‘Well, you must have something to tell me too, or you wouldn’t be asking in the first place!’
We stare defiantly at each other.
‘Ladies first,’ Jack says, holding out his hand in a gallant gesture.
I sigh. ‘All right then … So the first night I had the machine I gave it a really good clean. It brushed up really well, but however hard I tried to get it to work it still wouldn’t sew.’
Jack nods. ‘And?’
‘And so I left it overnight in the shop, but the next morning …’ I hesitate again. This was going to sound so daft and I could already hear Jack’s mocking response to what I’m about to tell him.
‘Go on, Kate.’
‘The next morning I came downstairs into the shop, before it was unlocked or anything, and I found this piece of embroidery sitting in the machine, like someone had been stitching it and had left it there for me to find.’
I look at him, expecting to hear a smart comment or see amusement twinkling in his eyes, but he simply gazes back at me waiting for me to continue.
‘What sort of embroidery?’ Jack asks to my surprise.
‘A picture. A very good one too – the embroidery is exquisite. It kind of looks like it’s part of something bigger though.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Like someone has taken a small sample of a larger picture and recreated it in embroidery thread.’
