The Watercress Girls Read Online Free PDF Page B

couldn’t help thinking that maybe, along with the photograph, this had made Rufus decide she was suitable for the emporium.
    Still fifteen minutes to go before opening time. They went through the staff entrance, then took the lift to the first floor. Mattie glimpsed assistants unveiling their counters, before Griff led her to the drapery department, where Christabel was waiting.
    ‘I must leave you here,’ he said. ‘I’m on the ground floor, the food hall. Good luck!’
    Christabel welcomed her with a smile. ‘Your uniform is in the washroom . See you in five minutes.’ She indicated a door.
    The dark-green linen button-through dress, with its skirt of decorous length, was a perfect fit. She folded her own garments and placed them on a shelf labelled MISS MATILDA ROWLEY. A quick tidying of her hair, and she was ready.
    She emerged to the ringing of a bell: time to stand by, the emporium was open.
    As their first customers did not arrive until after nine o’clock Christabel was able to acquaint Mattie with the location of the most frequently asked for commodities. There were many deep drawers below the counter and shelves along the walls. The drawers were packed with smaller items, like ribbons, tapes, braids, cottons and silks, hooks and eyes, press fasteners and buttons, scissors, needles, thimbles, darning mushrooms and tape measures. On the shelves were bolts of material, varying in colour and texture from the sober to the exotic. Hanging from rails were translucent silks in all the hues of the rainbow.
    ‘Those are quite dazzling! Beautiful!’ Mattie exclaimed, in awe.
    ‘From India. Can’t you just picture them made up into saris?’ Christabel brushed a stray thread from the counter, indicated the shining brass measure along the edge. ‘Have you done much dressmaking yourself ?’
    ‘I’m afraid not. My mother makes most of our clothes; she has a treadle machine.’
    Opposite the drapery department was the linen hall. The assistantsthere were almost hidden by pyramids of plump goose-feather pillows and Egyptian-cotton sheets.
    Mattie watched the hands on the clock. She felt an urge to tap it, like the men with their pocket watches on the train, to hurry it up. She gave quite a start when the doors swung open and a middle-aged woman in black came bustling up to the counter.
    ‘Watch me, this time,’ Christabel whispered to Mattie. ‘Good morning, madam.’
    ‘Good morning. I require serviceable blue cotton for our maids’ summer frocks.’
    ‘How many maids?’ Christabel enquired, reaching down a bolt of saxe-blue cloth.
    ‘Three. I believe you stock ready-made detachable collars and cuffs, in white?’
    ‘Yes, madam.’
    Mattie was fascinated by the confidence with which Christabel flipped the bolt of cloth over and over on the counter, estimating the yardage required. Taking up a pair of large scissors with curved grips, she sliced decisively across. She didn’t nick the material, then tear off the piece, as Mattie had seen her mother do.
    The customer rubbed the end of the cloth between finger and thumb, looking thoughtful. ‘This should wear well,’ she decided. ‘Wrap it up.’
    A neat brown-paper parcel was deftly tied with string. The cuffs, collars, cotton and other necessaries were placed in a large bag, neatly folded over at the top.
    ‘Does madam require a pattern?’ Christabel asked.
    ‘No, thank you. Mrs Trembath’s seamstress knows exactly what is required. Certainly not the latest fashion! Kindly send the bill to Knockwood Hall in due course.’
    When the customer had departed, Mattie observed: ‘What a grim-looking lady!’
    ‘Oh, you must learn to tell the difference! Mrs Barnes is not exactly a lady, even though she sounds like one. She’s the Hon. Mrs Trembath’s housekeeper. However, she’s entitled to be called “madam”.’
    ‘I must admit I’m dreading cutting the cloth….’
    ‘Don’t worry by the end of the day you’ll be expert at it!’ Christabel