The Shop Girls of Chapel Street Read Free

fortune-teller’s voice. ‘Today, here at the gala, you will meet the girl of your dreams!’
    â€˜Very funny,’ Eddie muttered as he backed away. ‘Look where you’re going!’ a warning voice yelled from behind.
    Too late – Eddie had come up against one of the straw bales, lost his balance and only just saved himself from landing on his backside in front of Violet.
    Thankfully the Gala Queen and her followers glided on, oblivious.
    â€˜What’s up, Ed?’ Stan joshed. ‘You’ve turned red as a beetroot.’
    That was it – Eddie had had enough. A chap could fall out with Stan Tankard at times like this – Stan who was always winking and joking and putting himself first, forever making you feel small in front of people. ‘I’m off,’ Eddie said, turning on his heel.
    â€˜Where to?’
    â€˜Just off,’ Eddie grunted. Off across the crowded field, past fluttering flags and the ice-cream stall, past lithe gymnasts lining up to do acrobatics in the makeshift arena, out onto Overcliffe Road, down Ada Street for a disgruntled, bank-holiday pint all by himself at the Green Cross.

CHAPTER TWO
    Tuesday morning brought Violet back down to earth with a bump. She was already hard at work behind the counter at Hutchinson’s, the grocer’s on Chapel Street, when Evie Briggs called in for a pound of sugar and a quarter of tea.
    â€˜Have you got over yesterday’s excitement?’ she asked as Violet weighed out the sugar into a blue bag. At sixteen, Evie was yet to put herself forward for Gala Queen but she dared to hope that one day her turn would come. Meanwhile, she was full of admiration for the way the older girl had pulled off the role.
    Back in the humdrum real world, Evie worked diligently alongside Sybil at Chapel Street Costumiers. This had been a good arrangement after Evie’s eldest sister Lily had left the business to get married and have a baby. In fact, Sybil and Lily’s friend Annie had left Chapel Street to start her own family at the same time and so Evie had stepped in to help Sybil sew beaded bolero jackets, jersey-knit two-piece suits and for their more daring customers, the fashionable harem pants worn by stars of the silver screen. She had been there ever since.
    â€˜Yes, it all went by in a flash.’ Violet tamped down the sugar then folded the top of the bag. ‘Still, I revelled in it while I got the chance. A quarter of tea, did you say?’
    â€˜Yes, please. I thought you looked lovely,’ awestruck Evie said shyly. ‘I’ve seen the dress pattern in the catalogue. The neckline looked a bit tricky to me.’
    â€˜It was,’ Violet agreed, glancing round to check that her boss was still busy in the stockroom before plunging into details about interfacing and cutting cloth on the bias. ‘I was dead set on wearing something up to date,’ she confided in the younger girl. ‘I scoured the magazines to find a style that would suit me.’
    â€˜And you pulled it off.’
    Violet smiled at the memory of some of the highlights from yesterday that stood out in her mind – riding on the horse-drawn float, watching the brass band and applauding the gymnasts, then dancing the night away with the best-looking lads between here and Overcliffe. ‘I’m glad I handed the fancy dress prize to your Arthur.’
    â€˜Yes, his little face lit up. We thought that sending him dressed as Mickey Mouse was a bit different to your run-of-the-mill nursery-rhyme characters.’
    â€˜It definitely caught my eye.’ Pushing the weighed tea across the counter, Violet paused to study Evie’s open features and noticed that her fair curls, though cut short, refused to conform to the sleek bob that current fashion demanded. It gave her an innocent look, which was the opposite of the dark sophistication that she herself strove for. ‘I could lend you the dress