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‘As good, if not better, than anything you can get in any of your fancy London stores, eh, Sophie?’
‘Absolutely gorgeous, Kath. I love the peaches and cream colour palette you’ve chosen. Could you hold it up whilst I take a picture of it to email to my friend Scarlet? Be prepared to get your first order!’
After she had sent the photo to Scarlet, Sophie took a moment to surreptitiously survey the diverse but happy gathering.
First Nessa, arched over the glass counter with her friend Julia as they spread out and pinned the woolly squares, ready to sew together for the hospice blanket project. Then there were thestudents from St Hilda’s, Alicia, Polly, and Megan, giggling as their ducked under the table to retrieve their burnt-orange yarn like the naughty schoolgirls they were.
But it was in contemplation of Marcia that Sophie stalled. Whilst her tawny hair remained long and unstyled, she had ditched her mother’s reading glasses and her face glowed as she patiently guided Marc’s hand through each stitch until, with a whoop of delight, he completed a row of moss stitch. A smile turned the corners of her lips as she exchanged a silent glance with Iris. When the class broke for their coffee and patisserie treats, Sophie continued her study of the shy young girl and realised the change was not merely physical. Sophie had never seen Marcia so content.
‘Those girls from St Hilda’s are a hoot, aren’t they?’ Delia said as she curled her fingers around a mug of coffee. ‘I’m delighted to see that youngsters are rediscovering the crafting bug. Polly said three more of their friends will be along next time. At this rate, as long as you stop giving away these delicious pastries and coffee and start charging proper prices for them, we might just manage to turn this place around.’
‘Oh, I hope so!’ Marcia interjected. ‘It’s shocking what’s happening to the high street, just shocking. Mum didn’t want me to say anything before the meeting, Sophie, but this morning we received notification from the council about another application for planning permission, this one for the petrol station on the corner of our street. You know, Hargreaves & Sons that closed down eighteen months ago? Well, no prizes for what’s being proposed – a block of eight executive apartments.
‘All the houses round there are Victorian, stone-built terraces and semis, and they want to throw up a four-storey, brick-built monstrosity! Well, if it has anything to do with me, it willnothappen.’ Marcia emphasised the last four words, her cheeksburning as she lowered her lashes. She twiddled with the hand-knit scarf around her neck before continuing more calmly. ‘I’ve drafted a written objection to the council setting out the reasons for our objection, but with all the businesses closing it creates a circle of collapse. The properties are renovated into housing that only city dwellers can afford as weekend retreats which perpetuates the problem of dwindling resident numbers and lack of daily trade.’
‘You are absolutely right, Marcia,’ Sophie nodded; then, wrestling with her conscience, she decided to add her own submission of persuasion to the conversation. ‘Marcia, I hope you don’t mind but I read one of your short stories the other night. It was excellent, absorbing, I adored Lance, fell in love with him actually, and I loved the twist at the end. Could I just make a suggestion?’
Marcia raised her chin and met Sophie’s eyes. She nodded, awaiting her pronouncement without a smidgeon of nerves. And why should she be nervous? After all, she was a published author with a national magazine.
‘Have you ever thought of extending the story into a full-length novel? I can see you are an accomplished writer of short stories for the women’s magazine market, but I firmly believe that if you submitted your work to a book publisher, they would snap you up in a millisecond. Why don’t you give it a try? What have you got to lose? You already have an army of fans, me included!’
‘Thanks, Sophie. I’ll think about it.’
Before anyone else could comment, the doorbell rang and all eyes swung to check out the new arrival.
‘Oh, hi, Tom, come on in.’ Sophie swooped across to the coffee machine, anxious to thank him for the tray of baked goodies and offer payment. ‘Cappuccino?’
‘Thanks, Sophie. I just popped by for the tray. It’s from my window display and I need it for tomorrow morning. You can keep the cupcake pyramid until later in the week, though.’ His green eyes spotted Marcia and swiftly averted their gaze to fix on Sophie as a crimson blush seeped across his unshaven cheeks. ‘Erm, how was your evening? What’s your team of knitters and sewers called again?’
‘Cupcakes & Couture!’ Sophie laughed. ‘So I actually have you to thank for half of it. We’ve had five new students join the ranks tonight, although I suspect it was your culinary delights that brought them here rather than my knitting and dressmaking skills.’
Sophie smiled at Tom but he was studying his feet so she glanced across to Marcia. She realised immediately what was happening and why Marcia had seemed to exude an uncharacteristic glow that evening. As it looked like no one else intended to aid the path of conversation, Sophie ploughed on.
‘Any news from St Hilda’s about the after-school-club cookery lessons, Tom?’
‘Not yet, but Marcia did an awesome job writing down the recipes and the instructions as well as designing the lesson plans. I’m just not convinced my skills are what the school is looking for and, anyway, every bit of my time is already taken up with running the shop, visiting Dad, doing the books…’
‘Tom, you’re exactly what the school needs,’ said Nessa. ‘I’ll have a word with the head tomorrow and get back to you. She’s been deluged with paperwork for the forthcoming OFSTED inspection.’
‘Thanks, Nessa,’ said Marcia, flashing a triumphant smile in the direction of Tom.
‘Come on now, everyone, we need to get back to work,’ urged Sophie. She unfolded a sheet of acid-free tissue paper to display her lingerie samples. ‘I’ve finished the silk teddies I showed you photos of last week. What do you think?’
Ooohs and aaahs rippled through the room as the class stroked the silk and marvelled at the workmanship.
‘These are just beautiful, Sophie. Is this the sort of thing you have in mind for your shop in London?’ asked one of the WI women.
‘Yes, as well as a selection of hand-sewn silk garters, bustiers, and basques, and embroidered bra and knicker sets. Every penny that is made will be filtered back to those members of Cupcakes & Couture that wish to contribute.’
‘I’m in.’
‘Me, too.’
‘You can count on me, too.’
‘And I’m going to be your first customer, Sophie. I have to have that teddy, it’s just gorgeous,’ said Julia. ‘And can I order one in bronze for my sister?’
‘Sure,’ Sophie smiled.
