The Sweeping Saga Collection: Poppy’s Dilemma, The Dressmaker’s Daughter, The Factory Girl. Nancy Carson

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СКАЧАТЬ ready,’ Minnie said, as she closed the door of the shanty they called Hawthorn Villa for the last time, carrying a bundle wrapped in a pillowcase. ‘Where shall we go?’

      ‘Into Dudley,’ Poppy said, as if there could be any question about it. ‘Have you got some money? We’ll have to find somewhere to sleep tonight.’

      ‘I got two and six.’ Minnie looked at Poppy with an expression first of sheepishness and then triumph. ‘I went with Jericho again last night and I made him pay me.’

      ‘Minnie! You never.’

      ‘It was lovely enough, without being paid for it as well.’ She giggled as she recalled it.

      ‘Minnie, you’re the limit.’

      They walked on, speculating on when they might next see their families, and on what they might expect from the great big burgeoning world into which they were about to launch themselves.

      The clock on St Thomas’s church struck three.

      ‘Let’s look in the shops, Minnie,’ Poppy said as they walked down Dudley’s Georgian high street. ‘Buttercup gave me some money. I think I’ll buy me some new clothes. I can’t stand these I’m wearing any longer. I feel like a navvy’s wench in them. I’m determined to get rid of all traces. Lord knows what I must look like to other folk.’

      They walked past elegant dwellings with their porticoes and mullioned windows, past alehouses and hardware shops, haberdashers, milliners, a barbershop. As usual among the shoppers, there was a contingency of drunks stumbling from one tavern to another. A street hawker passed them coming in the opposite direction pushing a handcart. He was selling candles and the two girls avoided him. Horses clopped over the cobblestones, and the wheels of the vehicles they hauled rattled as they rolled over the uneven surface. Near the town hall Poppy and Minnie tarried outside a ladies’ outfitters, gazing at the tempting display in the window. Eager to see what else was on offer, Poppy pulled Minnie inside.

      ‘Can I help you?’ a young woman asked hesitantly, inhibited by their rough appearance.

      Poppy guessed the girl was about eighteen or nineteen. She had a pleasant face with large eyes, and was wearing a plum-coloured muslin skirt flounced and edged with embroidery, and a blouse to match.

      ‘I’m looking for something like what you’m wearing,’ Poppy said brightly.

      ‘I can have something made for you, miss. It could be ready in about a week. Would you like me to take your measurements?’

      ‘Ain’t you got something I can wear now?’

      ‘Only second-hand, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Can I see?’

      The girl eyed Poppy up and down estimating her size, then turned to a rack of clothes. She rummaged through it, hesitating at an indigo garment before moving on to another.

      ‘That blue one,’ Poppy said. ‘Can I see it?’

      ‘I thought about that, but I thought it too old for you, miss. But try it on if you like. It’s about your size, I think.’ She took it from the rail and held it in front of herself for Poppy to inspect.

      ‘It’s a lot nicer than the one I’m wearing. Can I try it on?’

      ‘Yes. You can change through there …’ The girl pointed to a door.

      Both Poppy and Minnie entered the musty changing room and Poppy slipped off her red flannel frock, of which she had become very self-conscious. She saw too how shabby her shift looked in the long mirror before her. She slipped the blue dress on and noticed that it had an underskirt sewn in at the waist. When she had adjusted the fall to her satisfaction, Minnie fastened the eyelets at the back of the bodice. Poppy looked at herself in the mirror, and turned sideways to gain a view of the dress in profile. It all fitted perfectly, emphasising her narrow waist and pert bosom. She smiled with pleasure and, without hesitation, left the changing room and went back to the assistant, with Minnie in tow.

      ‘It fits perfect, look.’

      The girl inspected it, rearranging the fall of the skirt and its flounces. ‘It fits you very well, miss,’ she said sincerely. ‘And you carry it off nicely … But then you have that sort of face and figure.’

      ‘What sort of face and figure d’you mean?’

      ‘Well …’ The assistant smiled reservedly. ‘I think you could wear anything and look right in it. Some girls can. I envy you.’

      Poppy smiled at the compliment. ‘How much is it?’

      ‘Half a guinea.’

      ‘I’ll give you eight shillings.’

      The girl shook her head. ‘I daren’t, miss. I’d get the sack.’

      ‘Nine and six, then. Or I’ll go somewhere else.’

      ‘All right … But even at half a guinea it would be a very prudent purchase, miss. It would have cost seventeen shillings and sixpence new. And it looks so well on you.’

      ‘I’ll take it,’ Poppy said. ‘But I need some other things as well.’

      ‘Oh? Whatever help I can give …’ The girl smiled more confidently now.

      Poppy, still conscious of her origins, said, ‘I need a new shift, chemise, stockings, garters … Oh, and a mantle for the winter. Our fathers were navvies, and we’ve just left the railway encampment at Blowers Green.’ She felt sure that an explanation was appropriate. ‘It’s closing down and we’ve decided we want to make our own way in the world. So we need to look neat and tidy if anybody’s going to give us work. If you’ve got any tips you can give us on what to wear for the best, miss, we’d be glad of ’em.’

      ‘Of course. I’d be only too pleased.’ The girl smiled amenably now. These were not only down-to-earth girls and sociable, but they even looked up to her, a mere shop girl. There was also a shilling or two to be made here.

      ‘And when you’ve done me, Minnie wants new clothes as well.’

      ‘But I’ve only got two and sixpence, Poppy,’ she protested.

      ‘Oh, don’t worry, Minnie. I’ve got enough for both of us.’

      ‘You didn’t have to buy me a whole new wardrobe, Poppy,’ Minnie said, as they left the shop feeling like real ladies, having decided to wear their new purchases. ‘How much did you spend?’

      ‘Less than four pounds. I told you, Buttercup gave me some money before I left. What use is it unless you spend it?’

      ‘I don’t know how to thank you, Poppy …’

      ‘You’re my friend, Minnie. You’d do the same for me. Anyway, I might want a favour myself some day. And that frock looks like it was made for you.’

      ‘And yours. It matches your eyes beautiful.’

      They walked on, carrying their old clothes in bags the shop girl had supplied.

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