than she had expected. It was such a pleasure to have enough money to be able to treat the girls, thanks to letting out the rooms.
And as if their bargain-hunting shopping hadn’t already been successful enough, when Tilly had complained how much she now disliked her ‘childish’ too-short coat, the stall holder reached beneath his stall and brought out the most beautiful rolls of what he’d explained was a blend of wool and cashmere.
‘It’s wot the toffs all have their coats made out of,’ he told them as they huddled together under the stall’s faded green and white striped awning. Olive could believe that. The wool was unbelievably soft and warm, and in the most beautiful jewel colours. Despite her habitual need to be frugal, in the end she wasn’t able to resist either the fabric or Tilly’s pleading look, though it was more than she’d planned to spend even after she’d haggled him down. And, of course, she then felt obliged to say that Agnes must have a new coat as well, so that they bought the coat fabric in a lovely warm brown colour for Tilly, and also in a soft air-force blue for Agnes. Both girls were thrilled to bits, despite the weight of the brown-paper-wrapped parcels they insisted were no problem at all to carry.
‘What we need now is to find some lining fabric, oh, and buttons. Tilly, have you got those swatches of fabric the stall holder gave us so that we can match the shades up?’ Olive asked.
Tilly nodded, but before they reached the stalls with the lining fabrics on them, Olive noticed a stall selling a range of pretty warm-looking tartans, fine enough for winter dresses.
‘That would make very pretty party dresses for you both,’ she pointed out to the girls.
Tilly pulled a face, wrinkling her nose as she objected, ‘We’ll look like schoolgirls in that, Mum. Oh, but look at that velvet.’
It was beautiful, Olive acknowledged, real silk velvet that slithered through her fingers when she touched it and in the most glamorous of colours: rich amber, warm rose, dark green, navy, and plum.
‘It’s a very good price,’ the stall holder told them. ‘French too. You’ll not see this quality anywhere else.’
‘Please, Mum,’ Tilly pleaded, her eyes shining.
‘I don’t know, Tilly. We’ve already bought more than I planned. It is lovely, but the pile on the velvet is bound to flatten.’
‘It’s silk velvet,’ the stall holder emphasised, overhearing her. ‘You just give it a bit of a steam and it comes up like new. This rose colour would be perfect for you, with them dark curls,’ she told Tilly.
‘We’ve got lining fabric to get yet for your coats and buttons and everything,’ Olive warned her daughter.
‘Coats, is it?’ the stall holder chipped in. ‘Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you was to have a length of this silk velvet each then I’ll throw in enough ordinary velvet for you to have a set of collars and cuffs made for your coats.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Tilly breathed excitedly, and Olive acknowledged ruefully that she’d no chance of bargaining the stall holder down now, with her daughter looking so excited.
It was lovely fabric, though. Mentally she calculated how much they’d already spent. It would mean going over the budget she had set herself if they had the velvet, but she could afford to, thanks to the rent from the lodgers.
‘Very well,’ she agreed, ‘but we’ll need only two lengths,’ she told the stall holder. ‘Which colour do you like, Agnes?’
Agnes’s reaction was to gaze at her with disbelief. ‘Me? When you said two lengths I thought it was for you and Tilly.’
Poor Agnes – she had had so little, growing up, that she automatically expected to be excluded from treats, Olive thought.
‘Of course you must have a new dress too, Agnes,’ she told her firmly. ‘Now which colour? This dark green will suit you, I think.’ Holding the velvet up to Agnes, Olive saw that her whole face was illuminated with joy as, speechless with gratitude, Agnes could only beam at her. That look on Agnes’s face made her decision all the more worthwhile, Olive admitted to herself, even if that did make her a sentimental softie.
‘What about you?’ the saleswoman pressed. ‘I’ll give you thruppence a yard off if you have three lengths.’ She pointed to a roll of amber velvet. ‘Perfect for you, that would be.’
‘Oh, yes, Mum, do have it,’ Tilly cajoled her. Olive reached out and touched the fabric. It was beautiful and she knew the colour would suit her. She paused and then shook her head, saying firmly, ‘What do I need a party dress for?’ before telling the stallholder, ‘Just the two lengths, please.’
The velvet bought, they all agreed that a cup of tea and something like a nice fresh hot meat pie were needed to give them the energy to finish their shopping.
There were plenty of stalls selling food, but Olive insisted that they find a café. She didn’t really approve of eating in the street, and besides, her feet needed a rest.
They found a welcoming café down a narrow side street, the smell of the hot pies they were selling making Tilly declare that her mouth was watering already.
The pies turned out to be as good as they smelled, hot and tasty, warming chilled fingers and filling hungry stomachs.
The women didn’t waste much time in the café, though. The crowd milling around the market had grown throughout the morning, and Olive wanted to get their shopping done before it got even busier.
Once they had eaten their pies and emptied the generously sized pot of tea they’d had with them, the three of them headed for a stall Olive had noticed earlier that sold lining fabrics. The local dressmaker would charge her a little bit less, Olive was sure, if she provided her own lining fabric, thread and buttons, and make allowances for the time it would save her in not having to go out and buy them.
It was whilst she was carefully matching the swatches of fabric she had retrieved from Tilly that Olive suddenly realised that her daughter and Agnes had disappeared. Uncertainly she looked round. The market was busy; she didn’t want them getting themselves lost in the bustling crowd. Then to her relief she caught sight of them hurrying towards her.
‘You mustn’t go off like that,’ she scolded them vigorously. ‘What on earth were you doing?’
‘Oh, I just wanted to show Agnes some lace I’d seen earlier that would make a pretty collar,’ Tilly told her airily.
‘Just because you’ve persuaded me to let you have a velvet dress instead of a plaid one, that does not make you grown up enough to go wandering off without a by-your-leave,’ Olive warned. ‘There’ll be pickpockets and all sorts here.’
‘Yes, Mum,’ said Tilly obediently.
When Olive turned back to finish choosing the lining fabrics Tilly and Agnes exchanged secret smiles. When they’d gone to the ladies’ after they’d finished having their dinner Tilly had told Agnes that she wanted to go back to the velvet stall to buy the amber velvet for her mother, and immediately Agnes had said that she wanted to go halves on the cost with her. Now the amber silk velvet was parcelled up with their own and the two of them were excitedly anticipating surprising Olive with it when they got home.
* * *
The house
