The Sweethearts Collection. Pam Jenoff
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eyes for a few minutes. I am old, you know,’ the man muttered defensively.
‘I do know, Father, and now Colenso can take over some of your duties,’ Garren told him. The man scratched his head, and it was evident he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to relinquish any.
‘Of course, I’ll appreciate any advice you can give me,’ she told him. Immediately the man’s eyes brightened.
‘Taken me years to learn everything, it has,’ he told her. ‘Make everything proper here. None of that bulking out the others do. Everything is pure, well, apart from those colours,’ he said, pointing to the little bottles. ‘Some come from coal tar waste, they do, and can be toxic for those who don’t know what they’re doing.’
‘Quite,’ Garren said quickly. ‘That’s why I thought I’d make the confections while Colenso takes care of the shop. Now, where are your things?’ he asked, turning back to her.
‘Here,’ she said reaching for her basket.
‘That all you got?’ the old man asked. ‘Where are all your clothes?’
‘These are the only ones I possess,’ Colenso told him.
‘Well, you’d best get on and make some new ones. We get a good class of person in here and they expect to be served by someone looking neat and tidy at the very least. I ain’t having you serving in my confectionary looking like a scarecrow.’
‘Father, really.’
‘No, it’s all right, Garren. Mr Goss does have a point,’ she sighed. ‘No one will want to be served by me looking like this,’ she said, gesturing to her tattered green attire. Then, hefting the basket over her arm, she made for the door. She was about to step outside when she heard the old man chuckle.
‘Come back and sit yourself down. Likes a bit of spirit in a girl, I do, livens up the day. My Meggie were like a frosted fruit too. Sweet on the outside but with bite in the centre,’ he sighed, the light going out of his eyes. Not wishing to upset him, Colenso let herself be led back to the chair she’d been sitting on earlier.
‘Good, that’s decided. You’re staying,’ Garren said, looking relieved. ‘Now I’ll show you to your room.’
‘Not so fast, son. Don’t suppose you thought to test her capabilities.’ The man turned to Colenso. ‘If you really want to work then you can begin now,’ he said, staring Colenso straight in the eye. ‘That pot isn’t going to wash itself and look at the state of the stove.’ Knowing he was throwing down the gauntlet, she set down her basket and went over to the sink.
‘It’s a good job I’m not wearing my best clothes or they’d be ruined,’ she quipped, snatching up the cloth.
‘She’ll do, son,’ the old man chuckled. ‘Mind you, I’d hate to see standards slip, my Meggie always looked fresh as a daisy when she served in the confectioner’s.’
Tired but happy, Colenso sank onto the little daybed, pulling the blanket over her. The room had been used as a store but, after clearing sacks and jars out of the way, Garren had apologized for the lack of furnishings and left her to settle in. It must have been fate that led her here, for hadn’t Mammwynn always declared that destiny dictated?
She yawned and stretched out, running her fingers through her hair and was gratified to find it now almost reached her neck. After the dramas of the previous night, this seemed like paradise, and she could hardly believe her good fortune as she thought back over the day.
After the old man had gone upstairs to rest his eyes, Garren had set about making more sugar syrup while telling her about his plans for building the business up again. She’d helped by washing down the sides of the pan with the brush, then winced as he’d put his finger in to test the boiling concoction.
‘They’ve got sugar thermometers in America but regrettably they’re very expensive. Still, who knows? One day,’ he grinned. ‘Now, let’s get this poured.’ She watched as he tipped the mixture out on the tin tables, which he explained were called cooling tables.
Then, by the light of the lantern, they worked together colouring, flavouring and kneading the mixture before cutting it into lengths. When she’d told him how Karla had formed them into crooks, he’d agreed they looked more decorative but explained that straight sticks could be packed into jars.
‘However, it’s good that you take an interest in what you’re doing. I can see you are going to be a real asset to the business, Colenso,’ he told her.
Now, with his words of praise ringing in her ears, she closed her eyes. She was just planning how she was going to help Garren set out the little shop, when there was a shuffling noise outside. Then came a rap on her door. She sat bolt upright, pulling the shawl around her shoulders. Garren had assured her she wouldn’t be disturbed and she’d thought him genuine, but then he was a man. Recalling the degrading sights of the day before, she shuddered. There came another, more insistent knocking. Well, if he thought she was that kind of woman, he could think again.
Jumping out of bed, she opened the door a tiny crack.
‘Oh,’ she cried when she saw the old man standing there, a bundle in his hands.
‘I’m sorry to bother you, my dear, but I can’t help thinking I was rather rude earlier,’ he said, smiling ruefully.
‘No, you were quite right, Mr Goss. I can’t serve customers looking like a scarecrow. Luckily Garren has offered to loan me an apron,’ she told him.
‘Well, I can do better than that,’ he said, grinning widely as he held out his offering. ‘I bought this for my Meggie’s birthday but she died before … I thought perhaps you could use it,’ he said, thrusting the parcel into her arms before shuffling away.
‘Thank you, Mr Goss,’ she called but he’d already disappeared into the darkness.
Impatient to see what he’d given her, she lit the candle. Pulling back the brown paper she saw a length of material, its vibrant pink reminding her of the thrift that garlanded the cliffs back home. Running her fingers over the soft cloth, she could visualize the dress she would make. Then she remembered the red shoes and delving into her basket brought them out and held them next to the material. They toned perfectly, the bright colours reflecting her excitement. ‘Oh Mara, if you could see me now,’ she whispered. Of course, it could have been coincidence that made the flame flicker, but she knew in her heart that it wasn’t.
Colenso was up bright and early the next morning and, covering her stained clothes with the big white apron, let herself out of her little room. Hearing pans and spoons clattering in the workshop, she let herself straight into the shop. Humming happily, she filled the jars with the sweets, marvelling at all the different types and inhaling their aromas. As well as the bullseyes, barley twists, Nelson’s buttons and the rose rock she was familiar with, there were also confections smelling of acid, peppermint and aniseed, reminding her of the herb Mammwynn used to make a tisane when she’d had a cough. Others were little jewel-like confections, their multi-coloured hues like the stained-glass windows in a church. Taking the filled jars over to the little bay windows on either side of the door, she set about arranging them in a way she hoped would catch the attention of passers-by. She was standing outside, trying to judge the effect, when a smartly dressed woman came out of the adjoining shop.
‘I hope you’re going to clean your frontage,’ she said haughtily. ‘We pride ourselves on keeping our facades pristine, and frankly yours lowers the tone of the place.’ Nodding curtly, she disappeared back inside. And good morning to you too, Colenso thought. Staring down at the ground in front of her, she saw that it was covered in mud and mess. Remembering she’d seen a besom in the yard the previous day, she hurried to retrieve it, and had just finished sweeping the muck into the gutter when Garren appeared in the doorway.
‘I don’t expect you to do that,’ he told her, taking