Sarah Love

by Geraldine O'Neill

  Sarah decided to take a chance. “I don’t know what I would have done without you when I first moved over,” she said quietly. “I know I didn’t show it, but I knew you were always there . . .”

  “It’s great that we’re still friends,” David said. Then he paused. “Did you hear from the Irish fellow again?”

  “Con?” she said. “No. When I spoke to him then, I made sure he got the message loud and clear that there would never be anything between us again.”

  He looked at her seriously for a few moments and then he gave his customary wink. “Ah, you’re very good at that, Miss Love. You certainly know how to keep us men in our place. The big fellow looked heartbroken. A year later and he still hadn’t got over you.”

  Sarah felt her heart sink. “You know what happened there, David.” She swallowed hard. “And anyway, I told him it was for the best. We were never really suited . . . If we’d got married we would have just limped along.”

  “I wonder if any of us know how a marriage will turn out,” David mused. “I suppose it’s like anything – a business, a gamble or whatever. You just have to look at the odds and then take a calculated risk.”

  “You sound very cynical all of a sudden, Mr McGuire,” Sarah said, trying to make light of it. “Surely there are plenty of marriages that are sure to turn out well? Look at Lucy and Peter.”

  “True,” he said. “Now there’s an interesting story. Who would have believed that someone could change so much in just over a year?”

  “People can change.” She looked straight at him. “I’ve changed . . . I see things very differently to how I did when I first came here. You have to understand the circumstances in which I left Ireland and then all the difficulties of starting a new life.”

  He nodded. “Tell me about it – I know how I felt first in London. I was lucky that I had some family there and I’ve made good friends.”

  There was an awkward silence, then Sarah said, “How is Camilla?”

  A smile came on his face. “She’s great,” he said. “She was promoted a few weeks ago. She’s moved up a few steps from the dog shows.”

  Sarah forced a laugh.

  “I don’t see her so much,” David said. “The romance thing fizzled out after a couple of months, but she’s a great girl and we catch up with each other now and again.”

  Sarah’s heart leapt. “So you’re not going out with anyone?”

  He shook his head. “I’m taking a leaf out of your book. I’m not going to get tied down with anyone for a while. It’s a big world out there.”

  Sarah knew then that he held it against her. Blamed her that he had to move to get her out of his system. She knew now that there was no chance of them ever turning the clock back. David McGuire had moved on.

  They sat for a while longer and the conversation lightened up a bit when David asked if she’d heard about the situation with Robert Wright – the new manager of Thomson’s bookshop.

  “No,” Sarah said. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Just last week,” David said, “he got done for embezzling the books. It’s going to be a big court case.”

  “Oh, God!” Sarah exclaimed.

  He laughed heartily. “Can you believe it? Thomson’s doesn’t do bad for a bookshop, but it’s not exactly a million-dollar business. You think he’d have gone and got a job in a bank if he was that way inclined.”

  They left the restaurant and David walked her back to the flat, telling her all about his new niece and about his granny and granddad’s upcoming Golden Wedding. She thought about asking him in for a coffee, but didn’t have the courage. What was the point? Even if he was still slightly interested in her, he now lived and worked in London.

  As he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek, Sarah felt her whole body trembling and wondered if he noticed. If he did, he said nothing. They said goodnight. He waited until Sarah opened the shop door and locked it again from the inside, and then he was gone.

  He couldn’t have gone more than a few steps along the lane when Sarah collapsed over the counter, sobbing and crying. Then, when she composed herself, she checked the time on her watch and went over to the counter and picked up the phone.

  Lucy was shocked when she heard the state her friend was in and took several minutes trying to calm her down.

  “Wait there,” she finally said. “I’ll get the car and I’ll be down in five minutes.”

  Sarah was in her dressing-gown, curled up in a chair in front of the gas fire when Lucy came in. She got up and went over to bury her face in Lucy’s shoulder and she sobbed again. Eventually, when she could finally compose herself, she told Lucy the whole story, leaving nothing out.

  “Why don’t you tell him straight out tonight?” Lucy said.

  “I can’t,” Sarah said, rubbing her eyes. “He’s different, he’s not as open as he used to be . . . and he’s more or less told me that he’s not interested in going out with anyone. He’s broken up with Camilla and if he wanted to have anything to do with me again, he certainly isn’t showing it.”

  “But, Sarah, look at it from his point of view. You sent him away . . . his work and life is down in London now. What a huge risk it would be for him to start seeing you again, travelling all the way up from London at weekends.” She paused. “Are you certain about your feelings for him?”

  Sarah sniffed and nodded. “More certain than anything I’ve ever felt before. We can talk about anything and we laugh at the same things and I like his family.” She looked at Lucy. “I knew all those before, but what I’ve just discovered is that I feel something more that I never felt with Con or anyone else – I want to kiss him and lie in his arms – and wake up in bed beside him in the morning. I never understood or felt those things before. Now I can see how people get into all sorts of situations through being physically attracted to someone.” Her eyes filled up again. “I’ve found the last – and most important – part of the jigsaw between me and David.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Dear God . . . all the opportunities you had with him and you discover now . . .”

  Sarah’s eyes filled up. “When it’s all too late.”

  Chapter 42

  Love’s opening was planned for the first Saturday in April – just a week before Easter. Sarah decided on a six o’clock launch when all the other businesses were closing.

  By the time the week of the opening came round Sarah was totally exhausted. She had finished work in Harrison’s in mid-March shortly after the decorators moved out of the new boutique and then the preparations began. The shelves and the furniture had to be installed and Sarah was reminded of the renovations that had been made in the sewing shop the year before. There was one big difference this time – she was going it alone.

  Lucy and Peter helped with anything they could do, but Sarah found she had to do the majority of it on her own. The vision she had for the shop was all in her head – pictures and images – and it was difficult to put it into words. She could only really tell if something was going to work when she tried it out. And only she knew when it was right. Sometimes it would take ten attempts at something, but she was compelled to keep going till she got the look that she wanted.

  The first major thrill for her was seeing the plum-coloured flocked Victorian wallpaper going up and then the gold-sprayed shelves and mirrors. A huge, shimmering crystal chandelier took centre place and was complemented by smaller versions on the walls.

  The green Chesterfield sofas, inspired by the ones in the London pub, were put in place outside the velvet-curtained changing rooms. Tall oriental vases with peacock feathers stood at strategic points and a wine-coloured chaise-longue was decorated with an antique shawl and a gold velvet tasselled cushion. The gold pigeon-holed shelves were filled with bags and scarves and hats, and colourful knitted berets that Lisha and her mother had made.

  The day before opening, Sarah, Adele, and Diana, the girls from Victoria Street, Lisha, her brother and her mother started on the mammoth task of setting
up the rails and displaying all the dresses and skirts and tunics, the tartan trousers and capes. Sarah was amazed at all the stock she had made and packed away over the last six months, and as she opened each box she got a thrill from seeing dozens of the items that she knew had never been on sale in Newcastle before.

  They had a music system installed in the shop which would play all the Top Twenty hits, and Sarah and the staff would be wearing dresses from the rails instead of shop uniforms. The shop would officially open to the public at two o’clock, then at six o’clock the local business people who had been invited would arrive and Peter Spencer would do the opening ceremony with a bottle of champagne. Sarah had also hired a catering company at the top of the lane to do trays of finger-food and glasses of wine or Coke.

  They worked at the shop, hanging clothes and pinning others to the wall for display, until eight o’clock on the Friday night. Then, when Sarah felt they couldn’t squeeze in another item without it starting to look like a jumble sale, she called a halt. She took all the helpers to a café for fish and chips, deliberately avoiding the one with the juke-box that she’d gone to with David. Afterwards, she went back to the flat to have an early night so she would be on top form for the important day ahead.

  * * *

  On the Saturday morning, Sarah bathed and dressed and came downstairs just as Lucy was unlocking Harrison’s door. They had a coffee together and when Margaret arrived they went across the lane to have a look at the boutique.

  “It’s amazing,” Lucy told her. “And to think you’ve stitched every single item in it.”

  Sarah walked around the rails, seeing things with a fresh eye. “It’s as good as it can be for now,” she said. “I’ll learn as I go along and I’ll improve.”

  “Sa-rah!” Lucy said, her voice full of disapproval. “You need to know when you’ve done a good job and not keep trying to better it. There’s not a shop like this in Newcastle and, when you look around these rails and walls, you should have a huge sense of achievement. Two years ago you were sitting in a little bedroom in Ireland dreaming of all this.”

  Sarah looked at her and then she had the good grace to laugh. “Okay,” she said. “I’m glad I can always rely on you to keep my feet on the ground.”

  “Or to take your head out of the clouds!” Lucy said, laughing along with her.

  * * *

  Sarah went off to the hairdresser’s mid-morning and had her hair trimmed and blown dry into a perfectly straight bob. When she came back to the flat, there were two letters waiting for her – both of them with Irish stamps. One was a Good Luck card from Sheila Brady and her fiancé on the opening of Love and the second one was a letter from her sister-in-law, Martina, informing her that she and James were expecting their second baby in the summer.

  She went on to say that they wanted Sarah to be the godmother and that if they planned the christening around the same time as Sheila Brady’s wedding, then they hoped she would be able to attend both. Martina went on to say that James and her brothers were building an extension on to the house, which meant they would have another bedroom. It would be finished in plenty of time for the summer, so she would be the first one to sleep in it. The letter even finished off with a PS wishing her all the best for her new shop, which Sheila Brady had told her all about.

  Sarah walked over to the window with the letter in her hand and looked down onto the cobbles of Pilgrims Lane. She wondered what had brought about the change in her sister-in-law, but could come up with no answers. Then, as she saw a mother and a young girl of around eight walking along, she thought that motherhood might have softened Martina’s attitude. She shrugged to herself. She didn’t know and she didn’t really care. What mattered was the fact that an overture had been made, which might help Sarah to be a part of the Love family again in a very small way.

  She didn’t want anything more than to be an auntie who came home from England every so often, to spend a few pleasant days in the area she grew up in. She knew she would never go back there to live. She had moved on. Newcastle was now her adopted city. It had looked after her and allowed her to grow and thrive when the situation she left back home had almost crushed her. The place of her birth would always have a special place in her heart, but Newcastle was now her home.

  As she started to turn away, something about Thomson’s bookshop caught her eye. It was the Closed sign on the door. She had heard rumours about there being financial problems after the scandal with Robert Wright. A wave of sadness washed over her to think that the shop had gone downhill so fast. It had been a popular, thriving business when David McGuire had been manager.

  Sarah stared down at the bookshop for a few more moments, and then a terrible feeling of guilt replaced the sadness. If David hadn’t left because of her, the shop would still be doing as well as ever. Because of her selfish actions, Thomson’s might well be closing down, while Love boutique was just beginning. The thought almost overwhelmed her, making it hard for her to breathe. She went back over to the sofa and sat with her eyes closed until she heard Lucy coming up the stairs.

  “I have a special delivery for Miss Love,” Lucy said in a high, almost skittish voice. Sarah moved now and went to meet her in the hallway.

  Lucy was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. “Are you all right?” she asked when she saw Sarah’s serious face.

  “I’m grand . . . I was just having a bit of a doze.” She couldn’t start unloading all her miseries about David again. Lucy had made it clear that she had missed her chance and needed to get over it.

  “These have just been delivered for you.” Lucy carefully handed over the cellophane-wrapped flowers over.

  “Gosh . . . I wonder who on earth has sent such a huge bouquet.”

  “Let me get the card for you.” Lucy peeled the Sellotape off the side of the wrapper and then handed Sarah the small greeting card.

  “It’s from David, wishing me good luck . . .” She felt a lump coming into her throat, but forced the thoughts away. “Isn’t that kind of him?” She bent her head to smell them.

  “It really is.” Lucy looked at Sarah. “Are you nervous about this afternoon?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am.”

  “Don’t be – everything is organised.” She smiled. “You just have to go into Love’s and pretend that you are still in Harrison’s. It’s the exact same process. You’re just going to be selling clothes instead of wool.”

  Sarah smiled back. “Will you come across and see how things are going?”

  “Of course! Try and stop me.” She looked down at her conservativedress and cardigan. “I brought one of your earlier creations to change into. I didn’t want to let the side down by being old-fashioned.”

  “Don’t worry – we serve everyone – apart from Mrs Brown!”

  Lucy lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to laugh about her.”

  “I wonder what happened to her,” said Sarah. “She just seemed to disappear. I often thought I’d bump into her around the shops.”

  “Good riddance,” Lucy said. “Now, I must go downstairs and let Margaret go for her lunch, and I think you need to get all dolled up and go across to your new shop.”

  Sarah went into her bedroom, opened the wardrobe and lifted out a fitted black dress with elbow-length sleeves, which had a row of large white, heart-shaped buttons going down the front. It was one of the first dresses she made after her trip to London, inspired by the Mary Quant designs she had bought. She had a dozen of the same style on a rack over in the shop. She then pulled on white tights, then her black stretch PVC boots. She put on her dangling black cube earrings and a row of black plastic bangles on her arm, then tried some black and white beads, but quickly decided the hearts on the dress were enough decoration and took the beads back off.

  She spent more time than usual on her make-up and realised she was definitely nervous when her hands were trembling as she applied a modest pair of false eyelashes. The huge spidery ones, finished off wit
h painted lashes, which she had seen in London were definitely not for her. She finished with blue eye-shadow and a pale pink lipstick and then stood back to view herself.

  She could see she had lost weight over the last few months and reckoned she would have to be careful not to lose any more, as she was just on the right side of slim as opposed to being skinny. From the blonde bob down to her fashionably flat black boots, she looked every inch like the fashion models she had seen on the runway in London. Hopefully, when the shop was up and running, she wouldn’t have to spend so much time there, and she could go back to the more natural look she preferred for sitting at her sewing-machine.

  For the time being she would enjoy wearing the clothes, the make-up and the jewellery as she knew it endorsed all the products she was selling.

  * * *

  There was a crowd of around fifty girls waiting outside Love when the doors opened at two o’clock to the sound of Wayne Fontana and The Mindbenders singing “Game of Love”. Sarah was amazed when they all rushed forward, as though it was a Sale day, and then felt gratified when they reached the middle of the shop and came to a sudden halt to look around.

  She had no time to feel anxious or nervous as customers were coming up to check the sizes with her or to ask how many items they could take to try on. Adele was on duty outside the changing room to issue tags with the number of garments, and Lisha was standing at the opposite side watching for anyone who needed help with sizes or to reach up to the higher shelves. Diana was positioned behind the till with Sarah watching to see if she needed more help.

  Sarah felt a great sense of pride when she saw the three attractive girls dressed in matching white tunics with wide black plastic belts, black short skirts and the popular flat, PVC stretchy boots.