Page 66 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
She looks down at her ring. The truth is the ring had been her grandmother’s. Her mother had given it to her when she’d come to St Felix for the first time to stay with her aunt and uncle. ‘So people don’t ask questions,’ her mother had said.
‘Yes, it did,’ Clara says with the obligatory sadness in her voice. ‘I prefer not to talk about it though if you don’t mind.’
Mrs Harrington pats Clara’s hand. ‘I totally understand. The war left very few of us untouched by tragedy. I can’t believe it’s thirteen years since I lost my darling brother during the Normandy landings.’
‘Oh, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.’ Now she felt bad – this was someone with a genuine reason to grieve.
‘He died a hero … like so many before and after him. I’m sorry for your loss, Clara. Maggie must miss having a father.’
‘We manage,’ Clara says, with an air of well-practised bravado that usually did the trick.
‘Well done, you.’ Mrs Harrington gives Clara’s hand one last pat, and lifts her brown paper package from the glass cabinet between them. ‘Thank you so much for this. It’s truly beautiful. I don’t know how you do it on that little machine of yours.’ She glances across to where Clara’s black Singer sewing machine sits on a table in the corner of the shop with another of her creations waiting patiently to be completed.
‘Ah, it’s the machine, not me.’ Clara smiles. ‘I should be getting back to it – lots to do. I’m so pleased you like your dress, Mrs Harrington.’
‘Please, call me Annabel.’
‘Annabel it is.’
‘Thank you again. Good day, Clara.’
Clara walks Annabel to the shop door and bids her farewell.
She pauses to watch Annabel cross the street to have a quick word with Arthur. Her customer smiles as she looks over his shoulder at the painting. Then she bids him farewell too and heads off down the street, happily carrying her new dress.
When Clara glances back to Arthur again he’s beaming up at her from his easel. Before she realises what she’s doing she finds herself smiling back at him.
‘Would you care for a cup of tea?’ Clara asks, not knowing what else to say now.
‘I would love one,’ Arthur says. ‘Milk and two sugars please.’
I find myself smiling as I pull back from the canvas, and I turn to Jack. He’s smiling too.
‘They’ve made up,’ I say happily.
‘Let’s hope so,’ Jack says. ‘It’s about time.’
‘Can we make up?’ I ask quietly. ‘I don’t like it when we fall out.’
‘Have we fallen out?’ Jack asks innocently.
‘Considering you’ve hardly spoken to me since the night in the pub, I think we have.’
‘Been a bit busy, that’s all.’
‘Really?’ I ask a little sarcastically. ‘Busier than usual?’
‘Yes, actually. I’ve been getting ready for Ben coming.’
‘Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about that. Is he arriving soon?’
‘Yes, his mother is going away with her new fella – a cruise or something – so when Ben said he wanted to come and stay with me for the summer she was more than happy. I don’t think she trusts him in the house on his own.’
‘And you’re sure that’s the only thing that’s been keeping youbusy?’
‘Yes. Why? Should it be something else?’ Jack asks, wide-eyed.
I shake my head. ‘No, not at all.’ I turn back to the picture.
