The Bright One (51 page)

He handed the letter to Breda. She read it, then handed it back to him. ‘I'm sorry,' she said quietly. ‘It's very kind and generous of your parents, but I do really want to get married in Akersfield. Ideally, Kilbally would be my first choice, but failing that it must be Akersfield. Say you understand, Graham.'

‘Of course I do.'

‘Your parents, indeed anyone from Reigate, will be made welcome.'

‘I'll write to my mother this evening,' Graham promised.

Into Breda's mind sprang the thought that since the wedding was to be in February there could be countrywide blizzards, and the roads and railways might be completely blocked and no-one would be able to get anywhere. 'Tis a sinful thought, she told herself, and pushed it away.

When Graham and Breda told Miss Opal about the wedding, as they were bound to do since they would need time off work, she provided a solution to at least one difficulty.

‘But of course, Graham,' she said, ‘your parents must stay with me. I wouldn't hear of anything else. And I shall expect to be invited to the wedding.'

‘Just imagine,' Breda said afterwards. ‘Miss Opal at my wedding! I can't believe it.'

For the intervening weeks it was difficult to think of anything not connected with the wedding, though Breda did her best, in working hours, to keep her mind on her job in the store. There was the other worry too, still with her. She tried even harder to keep it firmly out of her mind, allowing it in only last thing at night, when she lay awake in the darkness. If we're married in February, she asked herself desperately, and the baby is born in September, couldn't it seem like a premature birth? She would tell Graham, she had no thought of deceiving him, but need anyone else know? When the date for her period passed, with no sign, she could think of little else.

‘There's something wrong,' Graham said. ‘What is it? Or is it just wedding nerves, my darling?'

‘It's not that,' she said.

‘Then please tell me,' he insisted.

She told him.

‘Oh Breda!' he said. ‘Oh Breda, what have I done to you?'

‘It takes two to make a baby,' she said miserably. ‘And of course I want children, of course I do. But I wanted us to be married first.'

‘But we will be,' Graham said. ‘We'll be together. Whatever happens, we'll face it together!'

Then she wakened one morning, ten days later, days in which only sleep had driven the worry from her mind, and realized that what she had prayed for was happening. It was all going to be all right. She slid out of bed and went down on her knees in thanksgiving. Then she dressed, and went to work with a heart as light as thistledown.

There was plenty to do in the store. The sale was now over, the garish displays which went with it had been dismanded and their places taken by ones more visually satisfying. The sales displays had been challenging and fun, and they had certainly brought in the trade, but to Breda's mind they'd offered little scope for artistry. Now it was different; now she could use her ideas and her imagination.

That she was able to do this was largely due to the temperament of her immediate boss, Leslie Bennett. ‘He's an idle so-and-so,' Graham said. ‘He's letting you do all the work while he looks for the credit.'

‘Do you think I'm not knowing that,' Breda said. ‘He's dull and he's lazy and he hasn't a creative idea in his head. Goodness knows how he got the job in the first place. But for those reasons he's happy to give me free rein.'

Her head abounded with schemes and new ones came to her all the time. Leslie Bennett had willingly allowed her the responsibility of changing one of the six store-front windows each day, so that there was always something new for passers-by to look at. If she was not too busy in other ways, she could manage two in a day, usually following a subject or a colour theme of her own devising.

‘I've had what I think is a good notion,' she said to Graham one evening. She was sitting with him in the small chilly sitting room which Mrs Wharton set aside for her lodgers. Sometimes the two of them would occupy a similar room in Mrs Settle's house, though never for more than a few minutes did they stay in each other's bedrooms. Neither landlady would have approved of that. But it would not be long now, they told each other, before they would have their own married quarters, either in furnished rooms or, ideally, in a small furnished house, though so far they had found nothing suitable.

‘So what's your good idea, sweetheart?' Graham asked.

Breda bent down and turned up the gas fire. It would scorch her shins, while her back stayed frozen, but the cold was awful. ‘I'd like to do one window as if it was a room in a house – any room, and not always the same. I'd furnish it as if it was lived in, even have a model or two so it would look occupied. And of course practically everything in the room would be on sale in the store. What do you think?'

‘Sounds fine to me,' Graham said. ‘I think you'd have to consult George Soames as well as Leslie Bennett.'

‘Leslie Bennett will be no problem,' Breda said. ‘If it works well he'll take the credit.'

‘You shouldn't let him do that,' Graham objected.

Breda shrugged. ‘If I didn't, he'd not let me do what I wanted.'

As she expected, Leslie Bennett raised no objections, though he insisted that he should be the one to put the idea to George Soames.

‘It sounds interesting to me,' George Soames said. ‘Go ahead and do it.'

‘I thought I'd let Miss O'Connor have a stab at it,' Leslie Bennett said pleasantly. ‘It will be good practice for her.'

It happened to be a day on which Miss Opal visited. She had decided to drop in once a week until the new business was firmly established. George told her of the suggestion. ‘And I'll lay fifty to one it was Breda O'Connor's idea,' he added. ‘Bennett is lazy and incompetent. I had hoped he'd leave, but he's got a cushy number here, so he won't.'

‘I wouldn't take your bet,' Opal said. ‘I'm sure you're right. I'd like to have a word with Breda myself while I'm here. As for Bennett, you'll catch him out sooner or later, and when you do, warn him! We can't afford passengers!'

When Breda came into the office, in answer to the summons she'd had, Opal looked up from the sales figures she was studying.

‘I've been looking at the windows,' she said without preliminaries. ‘They're very good.'

‘Thank you, Miss Opal.'

‘And Mr Soames tells me you've had an idea about doing a window each week as a room in a house. I take it it was your idea?'

Breda flushed. She wondered if Graham had said something, and hoped he hadn't. She could stand on her own feet. ‘Actually, it was, Miss Opal.'

‘Then go ahead and let's see what it looks like. But bear in mind that the purpose of the window displays is not only to be artistic, it's to bring people into the store and encourage them to buy.'

‘I realize that, Miss Opal,' Breda said. ‘I think this will do so. I'll show a wide spread of merchandise. But there is just one thing . . . ' she hesitated.

‘And what might that be?'

‘We don't sell furniture, and I would need some basic furniture. A sofa, some chairs; a sideboard so that I could display china and so on. And when I do a kitchen window I'll need a kitchen table. It doesn't have to be anything expensive because I'll mostly drape the furniture with fabrics.'

‘Well, I quite see you can't have a room without furniture. I'll tell Mr Soames you're to have what you need, within reason. Liaise directly with him.' Opal made no mention of Leslie Bennett, but Breda recognized what was implied in the words.

‘Thank you very much, Miss Opal,' she said.

Opal called her back as she reached the door. ‘How are the plans for your wedding going?' she asked.

‘Quite well. I've heard from my mother, and she's coming from Kilbally.'

‘Have you found somewhere to live yet?'

‘No, Miss Opal. That seems to be the most difficult thing of all.'

‘Keep at it,' Opal said. ‘I'm sure you will.'

What a pity, she thought as Breda left, that Henry Prince with all his money doesn't offer to put down the deposit so that they can buy a house. Goodness knows I'd be only too happy to do it for Daniel if he showed the slightest sign of getting married. And, of course, if Graham had fallen into line and was about to marry the girl of his parents' choice, no doubt that's what they would be doing.

Which only showed what fools they were. Given a chance of going into the business, Breda would have been an asset to Prince and Harper. Oh well! Now she would go a long way with Opal's, if she didn't allow herself to be swamped by domesticity.

She returned to the sales figures, which made pleasant reading.

Satisfying herself that Leslie Bennett was not to be found, while at the same time not trying too hard to find him, Breda felt justified in seeking out George Soames. He could be anywhere. He was well known for seldom being in his office but somewhere around the store, ever watchful, keeping an eye on things, stopping to speak to customers. ‘On the prowl' the rest of the staff called it.

While searching for him she ran into Graham on the ground floor. She would normally not have stopped – they did not allow themselves the luxury of conversations in the store – but this time she couldn't resist. She stood in front of him, barring his way.

‘Graham, I'm so excited! I've seen Miss Opal, she sent for me. She says I can go ahead!'

He smiled at her and she wanted to fling herself into his arms, to shout with joy. ‘Good!' he said. ‘I thought she would. And I've got something for you. Have you seen the
Record
?'

‘Of course not. How could I? Why?'

‘Furnished apartments,' Graham said. ‘Maisie pointed it out to me.' Maisie was George Soames's secretary. ‘Go up to the office and ask her to show it to you.'

All thoughts of window-dressing, of looking for George Soames, left Breda's head. Without actually breaking into a run, which was not permitted, she dashed up the stairs to the top-floor office, arriving breathless.

‘Mr Prince says you'll let me look at the
Record
,' she said to Maisie. How absurd it seemed, speaking of Graham, to refer to him as Mr Prince. It was just another of the formalities which had to be observed.

Maisie broke off her typing and fetched the newspaper.

‘It's near the bottom of the front page,' she said. ‘It sounds just the job.'

Graham had marked it in pencil in the margin. ‘To let, Hebghyll outskirts. Two rooms, part-furnished. Good position. Reasonable rent. Apply 23 River Road.'

‘Glory be to God!' Breda cried. ‘Isn't it just what we're wanting! And how will I get to it before anyone else does?'

‘Ask Mr Soames if you can take an hour off and go and look at it,' Maisie suggested. ‘Opal's won't fall down or catch fire while you're out!'

‘Do you think he'd let me?'

‘He can only say No. I don't suppose he will.'

‘I suppose I'll have to see Mr Bennett first. Do you know where Mr Soames'll be?' Breda felt agitated, almost out of control with excitement.

‘Not exactly. He set off for Dispatch. Something to sort out, he said.'

Breda found Graham though neither George Soames nor Leslie Bennett. ‘It's perfect!' she cried. ‘It's quite perfect!'

‘Whoa!' Graham said. ‘How can you know it's perfect? Though I'll admit it sounds promising.'

‘Oh Graham, I just know it's going to be the one! I can feel it in my bones! Please can I take an hour off and go and look at it? If we wait until after work we might miss it. Oh Graham, you
are
the Deputy Manager. You can give me permission.'

She held her breath while he considered it. He was strict, and more so with her than he would have been with anyone else.

‘Well,' he said. ‘I'm not sure that's in my jurisdiction . . . '

‘I can't find Leslie Bennett, nor Mr Soames,' Breda said quickly.

‘In that case,' Graham said, ‘I'll take responsibility. But for heaven's sake hurry! Don't dawdle.'

‘As if I would!' Breda said – and was gone.

She knew River Road. It ran along the bottom of the valley, on the far side of the river bridge. Number 23 was a large, semi-detached house which had seen better days. The door was answered by a stout lady dressed from head to foot in black.

‘I've come about the advertisement,' Breda said hurriedly. ‘Two rooms to let, part-furnished. You see we're getting married and it sounds just right and my fiancé would have come with me only he's at work, which is where I should be only I asked for an hour off because we didn't want to miss it.'

She was babbling. She realized that when she saw the woman's stare.

‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘We shall both be free at half-past five if you could keep it until then, give us first refusal. Is it in this house? Perhaps I could see it now and bring my fiancé back later.'

‘It's not here,' the woman said. ‘It's about as far from here as you can get in Hebghyll! It's on the edge of the moor.'

She watched a look of pleasure, followed by one of disappointment flit across the girl's face.

‘Then it's too far for me to go now,' Breda said. ‘I'm supposed to be at work. Could you possibly give us until after half-past five?'

The woman studied her. A pretty little thing, and anxious-looking. ‘Well,' she said hesitantly, ‘you wouldn't let me down, would you? You would come back? I mean, supposing someone else comes after it in the meantime?'