Beyond the Sunset (38 page)

She laughed. ‘Men often say things like that. Have you felt how heavy a small child can be? No one worries about a woman carrying a child.’

He looked a bit surprised at that. ‘You’re right. I hope your visit goes well.’

She enjoyed the late sunshine, strolling along. After a few streets she began to feel uneasy and wonder if she was being followed. Then she stopped to chat to an old acquaintance and forgot about that. But the minute she started walking along on her own again, the strange sensation of someone staring at her came back.

She tried swinging round suddenly, in order to catch her pursuer, but could never pin anyone down as being the one following her. Something was making her feel uneasy, though, and she felt quite sure she wasn’t mistaken.

Because of meeting old acquaintances, it took longer to get to Pelson Street than she’d expected and there were fewer people around by then. She was relieved when Bill’s father opened the door.

He beamed at her and ushered her in with a wave of one hand. ‘Come in, lass, come in. I said to the wife you’d be round to visit soon. We knew you’d not grow too proud to talk to your old friends.’

‘We were happy to hear you’d done so well for yourself, love,’ Mrs Dean said. ‘You’ll be set for life now.’

Pandora set the basket on the kitchen table, noting the absence of ornaments and some much-loved pieces of furniture. ‘I’ve brought a few things for you.’

Both of them immediately stiffened.

‘Please don’t let pride come between us. I know you’d share what you had with me if I fell on hard times.’

All hung in the balance for a moment or two, then Mrs Dean sobbed and came to give her a big hug, burying her head against Pandora’s shoulder for a moment before pulling herself upright and wiping away the tears. The two women began to unpack the food and Bill’s mother was unable to speak for emotion by the time they’d finished.

‘I’ll see you home, lass,’ Mr Dean said later. ‘You left your visiting a bit late.’

‘I’ve walked these streets many a time at dusk,’ she protested.

‘When times are hard, some people can be tempted into robbing others.’

But as they left the house, she saw Zachary waiting for her at the end of the street. Her heart lifted at the mere sight of his dear face and she beckoned to him and introduced the two men, then nipped into the kitchen to fetch Mrs Dean to the door.

‘Your young man, is it?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ Pandora said. ‘Only we’re not telling anyone about it yet, so keep it to yourselves.’ She led the way back to the front door. ‘Zachary, this is Mrs Dean, Bill’s mother.’

After they’d said goodbye, Zachary offered her his arm. ‘You shouldn’t be walking the streets on your own at this hour, love.’

‘Don’t you start. Mr Dean said the same thing. He was going to escort me home.’

‘He’s right. The war in America might be coming to an end, but people are still on short commons here in Outham.’

They walked along the next street, their steps matching well, not needing to talk for the sake of talking.

‘It’s lovely to be on my own with you.’ She gave his arm a friendly squeeze. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

He stopped walking to cover the hand lying on his arm with his left hand. ‘I’ve missed you, too, love.’

‘I want to tell the world about us.’

‘I do too, but I’ve found one or two details that don’t look right in the shop, so we’d better not do it yet.’

‘You have?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then maybe Mr Dawson’s right about Prebble.’

‘He’s a clever man, Mr Featherworth’s clerk. He’d not make a fuss for nothing.’

‘You’re clever too.’ As they began walking again, she added, ‘I’m beginning to suspect that Mr Dawson is rather fond of Alice – and she of him.’

‘Then I wish them luck.’

Again, their eyes met and they smiled at one another. Her heart lifted. He’d not smile at her like that if he didn’t care for her, not Zachary.

He escorted her back to the shop, refusing to come in for a cup of tea. Still smiling, she locked the door behind her, peeping in at Dot, who was reading a book by the light of the kitchen lamp.

‘Sorry, miss, hope you don’t mind me reading, only I’ve finished all the housework.’

‘You can read as much as you like. I don’t expect you to work every hour of the day. And when I’ve read them, you can borrow my new books too.’ There had been no books in the house before, Alice said. How dreadful!

Dot sniffed and gave her a watery smile. ‘You and Miss Alice are that kind to me. I’ve never had such a good position.’

‘Well, you’re a hard worker. But when you come to a good place to stop reading, could you make us a pot of tea, please?’ She’d have done this herself, but had already found that Dot would rather do such tasks herself in ‘her’ kitchen.

Pandora ran lightly up the stairs. Things were looking up. Zachary had called her ‘love’ and had said he too wanted to make their marriage known. She couldn’t wait!

Harry listened to the lads he paid to keep an eye on Pandora every time she left the house. He was still angry about her giving away good food, but the anger turned to red-hot fury when he heard that Carr had met her and walked home with her.

‘Did she look annoyed to see him?’ he asked, remembering his own reception when he’d insisted on walking her home.

‘No, she took his arm and hugged it close. They were laughing together as they walked. Looked a proper pair of love birds to me.’

He handed out sixpences grudgingly and told them to keep their eyes peeled from now on.

‘You’re not having her, Carr,’ he muttered when he was on his own. ‘And you’re not managing this shop, either. Even if she doesn’t let
me
court her, I’ll make damned sure
you
don’t get a sniff of that money. Nor shall anyone else.’

But how to do it? He had to put paid to Zachary’s involvement with the shop once and for all. And it had to be planned carefully. Very carefully indeed. Nothing must go wrong. He hadn’t put all this effort into the emporium to let someone else benefit from it.

One of the things that continued to worry Zachary was the atmosphere in the shop. Except for Marshall, the other assistants absolutely fawned on Harry. There was no other way to describe it, they
fawned
.

When he went out to the privy, Zachary met Marshall on the way back.

‘Need to speak to you,’ the older man said, not even stopping as he walked past.

He realised why Marshall hadn’t stopped when he found Harry just inside the door as he came into the packing room again.

‘You certainly take your time out there,’ Harry said accusingly.

‘One can’t deny nature.’

‘Well, now that nature’s been dealt with, we need some tea blended. You’ll need to use up the rest of the new stuff I was trying out, then Mr Featherworth wants us to go back to our old best blend.’ He snorted in disgust. ‘Just because his wife prefers it! We make far more money with the new mix.’

‘A lot of people liked our old blend of Blake’s Best.’

‘Well, see what you can do.’

Zachary got out the various containers of tea and sniffed the new type, wrinkling his nose. It wasn’t particularly good, didn’t even smell fresh. It must be some job lot that hadn’t been treated too well during its journey from India. Without being told, he went into the shop and took off the shelves all the packets of Best.

Harry hurried after him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting rid of this muck. Mr Featherworth’s right.’

‘It’s perfectly good tea, that.’

‘It’s not. I’d throw it in the bin, but I suppose we could let it go cheap to cover costs.’

‘I forbid you to do that. Put those packets back this minute.’

‘No. That tea will give the shop a bad name.’

‘It’ll make more money for us.’

‘We can ask Mr Dawson, if you like.’

All hung in the balance for a moment or two, then Harry swung on his heels and marched off to the office.

Marshall winked at Zachary as he passed by and whispered, ‘I’ll come to your house after work.’

What was going on here? Zachary wondered as he started mixing the tea according to the formula Mr Blake had used. He sniffed the resultant blend and nodded his head approvingly. But to be sure, he boiled a kettle of water on the gas burner and made a pot of tea, letting it brew for the requisite time and trying it out, just as Mr Blake would have done.

‘What are you doing now?’

Zachary ignored him and raised the cup to his lips, taking a mouthful and tasting it carefully. He shook his head. ‘Even this is too dry. It’s been kept too long.’

‘You get a better price if you buy larger amounts,’ Harry said.

‘Mr Blake would never buy in too much at once.’

‘Mr Blake is dead and I’m running the shop now.’

‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe Mr Featherworth wants the shop run exactly as it was before.’

‘It can be run more efficiently, as I’ve proved.’

‘It’s not our shop, Harry. It belongs to the Blake sisters, and Pandora’s in charge for them.’

‘
Miss Blake
to you!’

‘No. Pandora. At her request.’

‘You used that journey to worm your way into her good books,’ Harry said accusingly. ‘But when she sees how efficiently I run the shop, when I explain how much more money I can make for her, she’ll soon come to value me and change her methods. You’ll see.’

Zachary knew from years of working with him that Harry only cared about money but the hatred on the other man’s face disturbed him and he made a mental note to watch his back. If it were up to him, he’d bring everything into the open, sack Harry and reorganise the management of the shop.

It had been such a happy place to work when old Mr Blake was alive, and could be again.

He sighed. It wasn’t up to him. And he was missing Pandora even more than he’d expected to, missing sharing their days, chatting about anything and everything. She was his wife and unless she asked for her freedom, which he didn’t believe she would, he wanted to stay married to her. Mr Featherworth might think he’d done the right thing in not consummating the marriage, but he was beginning to consider he’d been stupid to let it continue till now. He loved her so much and she loved him too, kept saying she hadn’t changed her mind. Who cared about the money?

He knew he’d changed greatly, grown stronger mentally. It wasn’t only the travel, but being loved by a beautiful woman. That gave you extra confidence. He smiled reminiscently, thinking about their time together, then forced himself to stop that and concentrate on what he was doing. He sipped the tea again, swilling it round his mouth slowly. It’d have to do, but he’d make sure they didn’t order too much loose tea of any sort at one time from now on.

He looked down at the teapot and topped it up with more boiling water, then called to the lad sitting at the other end of the bench. ‘You might as well have a cup. Be a shame to waste it.’

‘I’m all right, thanks.’

When Marshall came in for something he made the same offer.

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

Harry at once popped into the packing area from his office. ‘You’re not paid to drink tea on duty, Marshall.’

Zachary looked at him. ‘Are you going to waste it?’

‘Yes, if it interferes with the work.’ He came forward and picked up the teapot, moving to the sink.

Furious, Zachary took it out of his hands, heedless of how hot it was. There was a short struggle, but he was much stronger than the smaller man. ‘I say it’s stupid to waste anything.’

The door opened and Pandora came in, staring in surprise at the two men struggling over a teapot.

Harry turned to Marshall and the lad. ‘Out!’

They both went into the shop, Marshall with his lips pressed together, his anger clear at being spoken to like that.

‘What’s going on here?’ she demanded.

‘Carr is wasting good tea, brewing up during working hours.’

‘I’m blending the tea and your uncle always said the only way to tell if the blend was right was to have a cup. Would you like to try some, Miss Blake?’

‘This is how my uncle did it?’ She looked first at Zachary and then at Harry.

‘Yes.’

‘Your uncle was a wonderful man but he had old-fashioned ways,’ Harry said. ‘I’m arranging the work more
efficiently
, Miss Blake.’

‘I think I should like to try a cup. And you ought to as well, Mr Prebble.’

Zachary poured cups for them. ‘I’m not adding milk or sugar because we want to taste only the tea. This is our best blend. Harry had been experimenting with a new mixture, but it wasn’t as good and Mr Dawson told us to go back to the old blend.’

She sipped the tea thoughtfully, saying nothing.

Harry took a big mouthful, swallowing it immediately, looking bored.

Pandora stared into the white teacup, studying the remaining liquid. ‘It’s a slightly different colour from the one we’ve been using, isn’t it? Though our packet says it’s Blake’s Best.’

He nodded and watched her sip again, saw Harry gulp down the rest of his cup without trying to taste it properly.

‘I like this one better,’ she said at last.

‘Your uncle was a connoisseur of good tea. He taught me a lot about blending it, but I’ll never be as good at it as he was.’

‘Well, I can’t taste any difference whatsoever,’ Harry snapped, ‘and the new blend makes much more profit.’ He looked at Pandora. ‘Surely you want to make as much money as you can?’

She cocked her head on one side, thinking, then shook it. ‘No, I don’t think I do. Oh, I want to make money for myself and my sisters, but I want to give people good service too. My uncle was well thought of in the town. If I can live up to his reputation, I’ll be satisfied.’

Harry stared at her in open-mouthed amazement.

‘I’ll give the other lads a cup each,’ Zachary said. ‘They need to learn the difference between the various blends.’

‘They’ve
work
to do!’ Harry snapped.

‘A few minutes won’t hurt, especially if they’re learning something,’ Pandora said.

This time he didn’t hide his anger, but stormed into his office, though he didn’t close the door.