One Step at a Time (22 page)

‘You’re a marvel, do you know that, Mrs Dalton?’ Ben cast her an admiring glance.

She gave a knowing smile. ‘That’s just what my husband used to say.’

When Ben walked into the shop Amy rushed up to him, very anxious. ‘What happened?’ Her hands clenched and unclenched as she listened to his explanation of their visit to the Prestons, breathing a gusty sigh of relief when she knew it hadn’t turned into a fight. Ben was quite able to take care of himself, but she had been worried about Mrs Dalton confronting her former neighbours.

Ben studied her face. ‘It’s all right, Amy. Mrs Dalton handled them politely, but firmly, even slipping Mrs Preston a couple of pounds to buy food.’

‘Mrs Dalton’s such a kind woman.’ Amy nodded, still looking worried. ‘Will this be the end of it, Ben?’

‘I think we can safely say that it is.’ His smile was teasing. ‘How’s business?’

After huffing out a large breath to release the tension, she returned his smile. ‘We’ve been
very
busy
– and there’s a pretty girl upstairs who’s interested in one of your landscapes. Howard’s keeping her company.’

Ben shot up to the gallery, as usual taking the steps three at a time, making Amy’s grin as wide as it could get.

She began to put fresh items on the shelves, arranging them with her usual care to show to their best advantage. A surge of happiness ran through her. When she’d first seen those awful headlines she had been devastated, believing that the life she was building now had been tarnished – even destroyed. But she should have known better. Ben, Howard, Ted and Mrs Dalton had known about her father from the beginning and it hadn’t bothered them. Neither had they changed towards her when they’d found out about her difficulty reading and writing. She had been silly to believe that a few nasty words in a newspaper would make them turn away from her. The thought that they might do that had been very frightening. But they had accepted her for what she was, without reservation. She would always be grateful to them for that…

The rest of the day was hectic. They sold three cats, two dogs, five vases, Howard’s sculpture of the mare and foal, and Ben’s pretty girl had bought one of his paintings.

By the time they closed the shop that evening, the three of them were in buoyant mood, and Amy’s confidence had returned. None of the customers had
made unkind remarks, in fact quite the opposite. They had all been very kind and chatted quite normally to her as they’d decided what to buy.

‘Right!’ Howard counted the takings – he had taken on the role of seeing to the financial side of the business. ‘I think it’s fish and chips all round this evening. Amy won’t have to cook as she’s got more painting to do. Tonight.’

‘You’re a slave-driver, do you know that?’

‘I’ve got to be.’ He did a little jig on the spot. ‘I can’t believe you sold my horse sculpture, Amy.’

‘It was beautiful, and I didn’t have any trouble at all. I hope you’ve got something to put in its place as that was the centrepiece of my window display.’

‘There’s always my naked lady.’ Howard raised an eyebrow in query.

‘That’ll be perfect.’ Amy couldn’t hide her amusement as she remembered her first reaction to seeing him working on it. ‘And what about you, Ben, have you got something to put on that empty space on the wall?’

‘I’ll see to it. Now, let’s get those fish and chips. I’m starving!’

‘You always are.’ Amy and Howard burst into laughter as they spoke together.

When they’d finished the meal, Amy washed up as Mrs Dalton dried the dishes and put them away. Somehow, over the months Amy had become cook and washer-up for the boys as well as Ted. Although
the kitchen was for Ted and Amy’s use, Ben and Howard had abandoned their own cooking facilities and joined them for every meal. And it wasn’t unusual for Mrs Dalton to join them quite regularly. They were becoming more of a family by taking meals together, and Amy loved it. It was so good to sit around the table listening to the talk and the joking. Any problems were dealt with by a joint effort, as had happened with the newspaper.

‘Why do you keep looking at the clock, Benjamin?’ Mrs Dalton put the last of the cups away. ‘Are you going somewhere?’

‘I’m going round to Miss Jackson’s house.’

Ted looked up from the evening newspaper he had bought on the way home. ‘Who’s that?’

‘The girl who bought my painting today. I said I’d hang it for her.’

Amy spun round, her eyes glinting with amusement. ‘I told you she was pretty. What’s her first name?’

Ben shrugged. ‘No idea.’

‘It’s Sally,’ Howard told them. ‘When I was talking to her she seemed a very self-assured, capable girl, but as soon as she set eyes on Ben she became quite helpless.’

Mrs Dalton chuckled. ‘I expect girls go like that all the time when they see him. You’d better go and put up her picture. She might buy another one.’

He smirked. ‘That’s what I’m hoping. See you later.’

After he’d left, Amy sat beside Howard, all eager. ‘Do you think he really liked her? He ought to have a nice girlfriend.’

‘Oh, he’s taken out lots of girls, but nothing has ever lasted. It’s the same with me. We’ve always been too broke and too involved in our art.’

‘Things are changing now.’ Amy nudged Howard’s arm and grinned. ‘You can both afford to take girls to the pictures or something.’

‘Are you trying to marry us off?’ Howard sat back in his chair, a suspicious expression on his face. ‘What about you? You’re getting old enough to have a boyfriend.’

‘No one’s going to be interested in me! I’m not pretty, and… and…’

‘Amy.’ Howard took hold of her hand as it clenched into a fist. ‘You mustn’t have such a low opinion of yourself. I agree that you’re not conventionally pretty, but you are more than that. You have a fascinating, unusual face, and it makes everyone look twice. You’re growing into a stunning girl. Why do you think Ben is always painting you? You’re different. Be proud of that difference, and remember, your past is over and done with. No man worth a damn is going to let that bother him.’ He traced her generous mouth with his finger. ‘Just you smile and he’ll be lost.’

She blushed at the compliments, but she found it hard to believe. ‘You and Ben do say the daftest things.’

Howard sighed and shook his head. ‘What would you do with her, Ted?’

‘Just leave her to grow up and find out for herself. When the men are falling over themselves to be with her, perhaps she’ll believe you.’

The next day Mrs Dalton came to help out at the shop because Howard was busy in his workshop and Ben was only stopping in for half an hour to hang two new paintings.

While there was a quiet moment, Amy nipped upstairs to see what Ben had brought in. She liked to know something about the pictures in case a customer asked questions.

He was standing in front of one, head on one side, as he made sure it was hanging correctly. When he stepped back, Amy couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘You can’t sell that!’

‘Why not?’ He slipped a hand around her shoulder as she stood beside him.

‘Because… because it’s me,’ she spluttered. ‘No one’s going to buy that.’

‘We know it’s you, but to anyone else it’s just a picture of a young girl sitting with her knees up and gazing across the river. It’s only a side view of your face, and you’ve changed a lot since I painted this.’

She stepped back to give the picture a critical examination. ‘Well, I suppose…’

‘It’s a good painting, Amy, and I like it.’

‘It is nice.’ She had seen this many times in his
studio, but it looked different somehow in the gallery. He had painted her quite a few times now, but had never attempted to sell any of the canvases before. He was right though; it was doubtful if anyone would recognize her.

‘Good.’ He ruffled her hair as he walked past her. ‘I’ve put the price on it, so don’t take a penny less. I’m not having my favourite girl being sold for a pittance.’

Running her hand through her hair to try and put it back in order, she looked at the ticket, and then spun round just as he headed for the stairs. ‘Does this say twenty-five pounds?’

‘That’s right, and worth every penny. You’ll sell that today.’ With a confident wave he disappeared down the stairs.

‘Well I never!’ she muttered to herself after he’d gone. ‘If anyone’s interested then Mrs Dalton will have to deal with them, because I’ll be too embarrassed.’ But it wasn’t likely to sell at that price.

It was late afternoon when a smart young man came in and went straight up to the gallery. Mrs Dalton was busy serving so Amy went up to see if she could help.

She stood back and watched him walk round studying the paintings. Much to her discomfort he stopped in front of her picture. And stayed there.

After a couple of minutes he turned his head and looked directly at her. She felt a jolt as his gaze fixed on her. His eyes were so blue they reminded her of a summer sky.

‘Do you work here?’

Nodding, she walked over to him. ‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘Hmm.’ He turned his attention back to the painting. ‘This is good and might be just what I’m looking for. The flat I’m renting is very bare and I’m tired of seeing blank walls.’

It was hard not to blush as she thought of this good-looking man having her picture in his home. Still, she was here to sell. ‘Benjamin Scott is an excellent artist, and this is a particular favourite of his.’ She had picked up the sales patter quite quickly.

‘I can see that.’ Stepping back he gazed at it again, then turned, his startling eyes amused. ‘That’s you, isn’t it?’

So much for the belief that no one would recognize her!

‘It is.’ There was little point in denying it.

‘Are you a friend of the artist?’

‘He’s my brother.’ She always referred to Ben and Howard in this way now.

‘Ah.’ He studied her carefully. ‘Are you artistic as well?’

‘I decorate the vases and dishes we have on sale downstairs.’

‘Really? I saw a rather nice vase in the window, and thought my mother might like that.’

‘You can have a close look at it when we go downstairs.’ For some reason he was making her feel shy and uncomfortable. ‘Would you like the painting, sir?’

‘Probably.’ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Why don’t you come and have a cup of coffee with me while I decide? There’s a café a few doors down from here.’

‘I couldn’t leave the shop, sir.’ She was torn between wanting to go, and wanting to get away from him.

‘Don’t keep calling me “sir”.’ He smiled and held out his hand. ‘I’m John Sterling.’

‘Amy.’ She shook his hand politely.

‘Nice to meet you, Amy. Now, I’m sure you can leave your post for half an hour, can’t you?’

Drawing in a silent breath, she nodded. He was thinking about spending rather a lot of money with them. ‘I’ll see if it’s all right.’

Turning, she hurried downstairs and saw Mrs Dalton talking to a customer who was trying to decide between two vases. She beckoned her over. ‘The customer upstairs is interested in the river painting,’ she whispered, ‘but he wants me to go and have coffee with him while he makes up his mind. If there’s a chance of a sale I can’t turn him down. I won’t be more than half an hour.’

‘That’s all right, my dear. I can cope on my own for a short time.’ She winked at Amy. ‘If he does buy then you must ask Ben for commission on the sale.’

Returning to the gallery, Amy said, ‘Half an hour is all I can spare.’

‘That’s fine.’ He ushered her out of the shop and along to the café, where he found a table by the window for them.

She waited while he ordered, and wondered what she was going to talk to him about. If it were Ben or Howard sitting opposite her, she would be chatting away quite happily.

When the coffee arrived, he smiled and handed her the sugar. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Chelsea. What about you?’ She thought that was safe to ask seeing that he’d done the same.

‘I’ve got a flat near St Bart’s.’

‘Sorry?’

‘St Bartholomew’s Hospital. I’m studying to be a doctor.’

She sat up, impressed. He must be very clever. ‘Do you like it?’

‘I’ve never wanted to do anything else.’ He was serious now. ‘It’s hard work, but in another couple of years I’ll be qualified. This is one of my rare days off and I decided to try and get something restful and soothing to look at when I do eventually get back to the flat. It’s an exhausting schedule.’

‘Do you have to do lots of exams and things like that?’ She was relaxing in his company now.

He nodded. ‘I’m often reading and studying half the night, but it’s worth it. Becoming a doctor is the most important thing in my life.’

They talked for another ten minutes, and she found out that his parents lived in Hampshire somewhere, but she was careful not to say much about herself.

Keeping a sharp eye on the clock above the counter, Amy stood up when it was time to go. ‘Thank
you for the coffee. Have you made up your mind about the painting?’

‘Of course. I’ll buy it and the vase for my mother.’

That evening over supper, Ben was smug. ‘I told you it would sell, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, but I had to go to the café with him while he made up his mind.’ She pulled a face at Ben. ‘And he knew it was me!’

Mrs Dalton interrupted. ‘He was a nice young man and couldn’t take his eyes off Amy.’

‘Ho, ho.’ Ben and Howard both grinned.

‘Sounds as if you’ve got an admirer.’ Ted raised an eyebrow in amusement. ‘We’re going to have to start beating them away from the door soon.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ She couldn’t help laughing. They did say the silliest things. ‘He’s nearly a doctor.’

‘What difference does that make?’ Ted asked.

‘Well, everything.’ She began to clear the table to give herself something to do. ‘He’s clever, and I won’t see him again.’

20

It was July of 1937 and Amy had almost forgotten John Sterling. Almost. But at times, when she was decorating a pot, she would find herself trying to mix the blue of his eyes, and then she would scold herself irritably. They had only met once and spent half an hour together, for heaven’s sake! He had been an intelligent and dedicated man, and certainly wouldn’t have been interested in her, even though he had bought the painting. However, she did hope it looked nice in his flat.