Page 78 of The Wedding Dress Repair Shop
‘I think it will fit,’ Thom said. ‘The width is fine but it might be a fraction too short, though I could fix that by running a wooden batten across the bottom of the doorframe to fill in the gap.’
‘In that case, I’ll have it,’ I said.
‘We might beat him down on the price, if we find anything else we want to buy,’ Simon suggested.
Looking round, something struck me. ‘Why are so many things painted with this horrible matt undercoat in Elastoplast pink or dirty sage green?’
‘It’s one of Arthur’s foibles – don’t ask me why,’ said Thom. ‘Just be grateful he didn’t get round to the stable door before you got here.’
He pushed it back in while I examined the jumble of mostly sorry-for-itself furniture, old metal advertising signs, a battered jukebox and, under a dirty carpet, a low chesterfield sofa in a ripped linen loose cover that might once have been brightly flowered. You could see through the holes that underneath it was blue velvet.
I pulled the carpet off on to the floor and had a closer look at the little sofa, lifting up the loose cover. The velvet was worn, but the seat cushions firm, though when I cautiously sat on it, it rocked alarmingly.
‘It’s missing one castor,’ said Thom, amused.
‘It’s not bad, other than that,’ I said. ‘You don’t often see a small chesterfield. This would fit nicely into my living room and I could make a new cover for it really easily, using this old one as a pattern.’
‘Itisa bit doll’s house-sized, like that little tub chair you had when you were a child, and you still fit into that.’
‘I have grown a bit since then,’ I said with dignity.
Simon pulled the sofa right out and we had a good look all over it. There was no sign of woodworm in the legs, or stuffing bursting out. It smelled a bit musty, but nothing a blast of fabric freshener and a good vacuum wouldn’t fix.
Thom said, ‘If you want it, Arthur will either have to come up with a matching castor, or a set of new ones.’
‘The door was overpriced, but this is dirt cheap,’ commented Simon, looking at a brown cardboard tag pinned to the cover. ‘Arthur’s pricing is always really random and you can usually beat him down a bit, or get free delivery. I can negotiate, if you like.’
‘OK, but let’s have a look round the rest of the shop first,’ I suggested.
There were three floors of the shop, with the more valuable furniture and antiques on the ground floor, where Arthur lurked in a sort of cubbyhole.
I thought some of the brass bedsteads and china washbasin sets upstairs might have come from Honey’s attic.
I found a nice old hall runner in rich dark shades of crimson, blue and green, and added that to my purchases. I only hoped my flat sale would be finalized soon, before I ran out of money!
In the basement I discovered the tailor’s dummy Arthur had mentioned, but it had seen better days so I resisted that.
Thom was rummaging in a big open box of woodworking tools.
‘We all have our guilty pleasures,’ I said, coming up behind him.
‘I do have quite a collection,’ he agreed, getting up with an old plane and a couple of other wooden-handled tools in his hands. ‘Are you done? I don’t know where Simon has got to.’
We found him rocking himself in a big Windsor chair upstairs, while Arthur seemed to be making a small parcel up out of newspaper and string.
‘Bought a small framed Regency fashion plate – bonnets,’ he explained.
‘Barely making a profit, I am,’ Arthur grumbled, and when he turned away I gave Simon the list of things I wanted and asked him to do his best, which he did, getting the runner and delivery thrown in for free.
Arthur got Thom and Simon to help him load everything in his van before we left, and promised to bring them round when he shut at five.
*
Simon and Thom came over to the cottage as soon as Arthur’s van appeared and helped carry everything in, once Golightly was safely shut in the utility room.
I put the runner straight down in the hall and we leaned the stable door against the living-room wall.
The sofa, looking small and grubby, lurked in the middle of the room like a visitor unsure of his welcome.
