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done,’ he said, grinning as he looked around. ‘While you’ve kept the customers happy in here I’ve had time to make plenty more.’
‘I was surprised how many ladies came in with their children,’ Colenso told him.
‘Pay days are always busy. Mothers call in here after they’ve been to the butcher’s. Sugar is a cheaper way of filling up hungry bellies, which of course they don’t complain about. The women can then feed their men more meat, which keeps them happy too.’
‘Really?’ Colenso asked. How different things were here, she thought, recalling Mammwynn’s fresh herbs and vegetables, fish when the boats could get out or the pilchards showed up, scraps of meat from old Buller in return for a few hours’ help.
‘There is a lot of industrial work around here, which is hard graft, and the men need nutrition to keep them going. Talking of which, I’ve prepared luncheon. Just a bit of bread and ham,’ he said when he saw her expression.
‘This is becoming a habit and I can’t keep eating your food,’ she replied, taking her place at the table.
‘Board and room is part of the deal, remember? However, I gather from your earlier comment that you find it awkward accepting things, whether it be material or human assistance. But perhaps you could look at it from my point of view. I can’t be in two places at once, and whilst you’ve been serving the customers, I’ve been able to make more sweets than I have since Mother died. As you’ve gathered, Father tries but he’s really too old to be of much use.’
‘I know, but it was kind of him to give me that material.’
‘It was. However, he has no idea that dresses take time to make and he will expect you to be wearing the new one when he next sees you.’
‘What …’ she began, but he held up his hand to stop her.
‘I know, these things don’t happen just like that,’ he said, snapping his fingers. ‘And you’re probably waiting until you get paid to purchase things like thread and buttons or whatnot.’ She stared at him, surprised a man would know about such matters. ‘Mother made all our clothes, which is why I was going to ask if you would like to look through her sewing drawer and see if you can make use of anything – and before you protest again, you really do need to look the part of a smart shopkeeper. I believe you met Miss Chenoweth from the shop next door.’
‘Oh yes, she commented on the state of the pavement.’
‘And later she saw fit to comment on the state of your dress. She prides herself on running an upper-class establishment and expects everyone else around here to conform to her standards. I wouldn’t mention it other than she implied you would be letting the street down if you continued looking like a … well, dressed like that.’
‘And we can’t have that, can we?’ Colenso retorted. ‘In order to save embarrassment all round, I would be pleased to look through your mother’s sewing drawer, provided you deduct the cost of anything I use from my wages.’ He gazed at her intently, a smile hovering on his lips. ‘You think that funny, Mr Goss?’
‘Actually, Miss Carne, I am impressed by your integrity. Most of the women I know would be only too pleased to be handed things on a plate.’
‘Well, I am not most women,’ she retorted.
‘Indeed, you are not,’ he replied quietly, and Colenso saw the spark of admiration in his eyes. Having been rejected by Kitto, it was solace to her soul.
A few days later, having spent her evenings frantically cutting and sewing, Colenso appeared in the workshop wearing her new outfit. She’d added the lace they’d found in the sewing drawer to the collar and cuffs of the dress and there’d been enough of the pink material left to make a matching scarf. Seeing how terrible the worn black boots looked against the beautiful bright material, she’d discarded them in favour of the new red shoes.
‘Goodness, what a transformation,’ Garren cried, looking up from the rock he was making. You look like one of those French bonbons, all shiny and tempting.’ Seeing the look of admiration in his eyes, she turned away. She liked Garren, but he was her employer and she didn’t want to complicate matters. Besides the cage around her heart was still firmly locked. ‘Sorry, that remark was out of order,’ he added.
‘It’s just that I was known as Bonbon at the Panam,’ she told him, seizing on the excuse so as not to offend him.
‘Bad memories, eh?’ he asked, looking searchingly at her. ‘Well, don’t worry, I won’t mention it again.’
‘You will deduct the cost of the materials from my wages, won’t you?’ she asked, eager to change the subject.
‘I promised, didn’t I?’ he replied, turning back to his task. Colenso watched as he cut the glistening mixture into sticks, releasing the fragrance of the rose flavouring.
‘Now that I’ve finished sewing, I wondered if I could help make the sweets in the evening?’ she asked. Scissors poised mid-cut, he looked up and shook his head.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,’ she sighed.
‘You’re not,’ he laughed. ‘It’s just that one minute you insist I charge you for material and a scrap of lace, the next you’re offering to work on after the shop closes. You’re most welcome to, of course, but regrettably I can’t pay you any extra at the moment.’
‘All the same, I’d love to learn how to make the sweets as well as sell them,’ she said, excitement bubbling at the thought. The whole process of taking raw sugar and mixing it with a handful of ingredients to turn them into the jewel-like confections fascinated her.
‘Very well. You can have your first proper lesson this evening after supper. Now, you’d better take these through and replenish the jars. I can’t believe how quickly the last lot disappeared. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been sampling them yourself.’
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ she retorted, then saw he was teasing. ‘Oh you,’ she muttered, gently slapping his arm before taking the tray through to the shop.
Colenso loved the quietude of the early morning as she prepared the displays ready for opening. There was something almost magical about the sweet-smelling atmosphere, she thought, pulling the big white apron over her new dress. Humming happily, she restocked the jars then set about dusting the counter and shelves. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help smiling. The material looked even brighter in the daylight, putting her in mind of the vivid camellias she loved so much. In her new pink dress with the matching scarf holding back her dark hair, she looked quite the part of the sweetshop assistant and would be a match for that snooty proprietress next door. Remembering the woman’s jibe about the pavement, she snatched up the besom and hurried outside.
With autumn turning to winter, the air was colder now, the wind whipping in from the sea and bringing litter from the docks with it. At least it was dry and she was spared from having to sweep in the mud, she thought, catching sight of her bright red shoes.
‘Look at you all dolled up like a fancy trollop. Hasn’t taken you long to get your feet under the table, has it?’ Colenso looked up to see the shopkeeper from next door glaring at her.
‘Good morning, Miss Chenoweth,’ she said, ignoring the barb. For some reason the woman had taken a dislike to her, but Colenso was determined to be pleasant.
‘Think you’re going to lure him by prettying yourself up, do you? Well, handsome is as handsome does and Garren Goss likes a bit of class,’ she sniffed before, with her nose in the air, she stomped back inside. Bemused, Colenso shook her head.
‘Don’t mind her,’ Mr Goss said, appearing at her side. ‘Had her sights set on Garren ever since her parents took over the shop. Luckily, he’s more sense than to fall for the wiles