by S C Richmond
She had been looking forward so much to talking to George and finding out more about her Mother, she hoped he was well. She looked around, the shop looked grubby and unkempt in the bright light of day. The previous evening it had looked so magical, she picked up the bag that was left for her and decided to go and visit Mr James, maybe he would know George, Mr James seemed to know just about everyone in town.
When she arrived at his house he was out too, she was beginning to feel that no one wanted to speak to her today, then she heard someone singing, a voice coming from the garden. She poked her head around the hedge and saw Kathy, she looked up from her gardening. “Come in girl.” She walked into the garden, her face must have given her mood away because Kathy asked. “Whatever’s the matter?”
“I met George last night and now he’s gone.” She finally gave in to her emotions and began to cry.“ He said he knew my Mom.” She continued to weep and Kathy approached her and hugged her tight.
“Now, now… dry your eyes and tell me about this George.”
She told Kathy about the shop and the dress and what George had said to her. Kathy listened carefully, especially to the news that Carl Ward had been sniffing around her again. “You want to stay away from that Mr Ward, he’s a bad ‘un, maybe he does like you but I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could spit.”
She looked up, not really understanding what Carl could be up to, she had nothing to offer but she too had certainly been getting an uneasy feeling about him. It was time to find out what he was up to. Next time she saw him she decided she would follow him and see where that led her. She felt better in herself now she had a plan but she was still worried about George, he could have helped her and told her more about her Mother. Kathy fed her and cheered her up before sending her on her way, Kathy had promised to speak to Mr James about George for her.
She returned to her room and took her old dress out of the bag and hung it up, as she did a piece of paper fluttered to the ground. She picked it up assuming it was the receipt for the dress, but on it was written 23 Coal Street, nothing else just an address. It looked like it had been written in a hurry, the writing was uneven and rushed. She placed it on her sideboard, maybe that was where George had gone today, whatever it was, it was none of her business. She would stop by his shop tomorrow and return it to him.