They found the department store easily enough, found the department within the department store just as easily, and found themselves surrounded by racks of thread, rolls of cloth, displays of sewing machines and banks of drawers containing needles, thimbles, scissors and just about every conceivable sort of sundry one might need in the pursuit of joining two pieces of cloth together. They didn’t like to admit it but they really didn’t know where to start.
‘We’d better ask someone,’ Jon whispered.
‘I just wanted us to get in, get the stuff an’ get out again,’ Al whispered back.
‘Yeah, but what stuff are we gonna buy?’
It was a good question. They looked to Tony for the answer.
‘Don’t ask me!’ he hissed.
‘Why not?’ said Al. ‘She’s your sister.’
‘Don’t mean to say I’ve got to have anything to do with her.’
It was a good point. In fact, knowing Tony’s sister, probably an excellent point. Spike shook his head wearily. Time, perhaps, to take matters into his own hands. He drew himself up and marched boldly up to the nearest counter.
‘Good afternoon,’ he announced in a loud voice. ‘My friends and I need a little assistance.’
The woman behind the counter stopped checking figures to look him up and down. Then she looked the others up and down.
‘Indeed?’ she said. ‘Taking up sewing, are you?’
‘Not at all. It’s just that one of our number has a sister whose birthday it is this week. She likes sewing and we thought she might like a little something to help her in her pastime.’
They shuffled towards the counter, emboldened by Spike’s display of raw courage.
‘Yeah, she likes sewing,’ Tony was saying as if to reinforce the point that it wasn’t really for him. ‘My sister. You know?’
‘I see,’ said the woman. ‘And what sort of sewing does she do?’
‘Toy animals!’ Tony said quickly. ‘She likes making toy animals.’
It was indeed a quick answer and a good one given that that was effectively what they were making. The woman nodded understanding.
‘I see,’ she said. ‘And what is she most in need of just now?’
‘Er…everything,’ said Tony.
‘Everything,’ the woman repeated. ‘You mean she’s just starting out.’
‘No, she’s just getting short of stuff.’
‘Really,’ said the woman like she was not believing them. ‘Well, there are consumables like thread and material, I’ll grant, but things like needles don’t really wear out.’
‘No, she needs needles,’ said Al. ‘She definitely needs needles.’
‘She does, does she?’ The woman leaned on the counter, looked them over as though this was going to be a long haul and she wasn’t going to enjoy it. ‘Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is she’s doing and I’ll give you what I think she needs? So, she’s making toy animals. What sort of toy animals?’
‘Er…rats,’ said Al uncertainly.
There was a long silence while the woman digested this.
‘Rats,’ she said eventually. ‘She’s making toy rats.’
They nodded. She studied them for a moment longer then stood bolt upright, looked now as though she just wanted to be rid of this lot as soon as possible.
‘Right,’ she said briskly, ‘she’s making toy rats and she needs everything. First, she’ll need a book of needles—’
She swung round, yanked open a drawer, pulled from it a small packet.
‘—Next, some thread. Brown? To match the colour of the rats’ fur? Or is she making black rats, like the ones that carried the plague?’
‘No,’ said Spike, ‘brown will be fine, thank—’
‘Excellent! Brown it is. And what about material for the fur? Natural or synthetic?’
‘Er…which is best?’
‘Not much difference. Try some brown felt. Looks the part and even begins to smell the part if you don’t wash it. How many rats is she planning to make?’
‘Four?’ said Al. That, at least, he could be certain of.
She reached for a roll of brown material, picked up a ferocious-looking pair of scissors and sheered off a metre-wide strip.
‘That should be enough,’ she said. ‘Now, are we done?’
‘Er…yeah, I think so,’ said Tony.
‘Right, that’ll be…’ She began ringing up figures on the till. ‘…£4.75, please.’
Al handed over his five pound note. She took it, found the change, almost threw their purchases into a bag and handed it to them. The she was leaning on the counter and looking down at them as though she never wanted to see them here again.
‘Good day,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I hope your friend enjoys her present.’
They mumbled their thanks and backed away, not daring to turn their backs on her until they were out of sight. They almost ran for the exit, glad to be away from her, glad to be away from the whole shop.
‘Man, am I glad that’s over!’ said Al as they strode down the concourse towards the Italian place and another round of Cokes—this time, courtesy of the money they had left. ‘You know, I think she thought we were mad,’
‘No,’ said Jon, ‘I think she thought Tony’s sister was mad.’
‘Well, she is, isn’t she?’
They laughed, felt the last knot of tension being finally untied.
‘But we’ve done it, that’s the main thing,’ said Al. ‘We’ve got all we need to get started. The next step, Spike, is down to you.’
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘As you say, the next step is down to me.’
EIGHT