Post by Nuala Bowtitt on Jun 24, 2008 20:47:03 GMT
THE WINDUP MERCHANT Part 1
The old man sat at his workbench surrounded by timepieces in various stages of repair. His shoulders were hunched in concentration as his bony hands wielded the tiny tool he was using as he peered into the back of the watch through his eyeglass. He wore a scarf, and fingerless gloves covered his hands for it grew cold here in the evening. The shelves and walls of the room were decorated with clocks and all around him, soft and loud ticks competed with each other for attention but to the old man, their familiarity allowed them to fade into the background and as he worked, he let his thoughts wander to a previous time…
When he saw his future wife for the first time all those years ago, she was standing outside the jeweller’s shop where he’d just landed his first situation. He’d been abroad for the last four years, learning about the world, broadening his horizons and finishing the education he’d won on a scholarship. He had a good brain and could put his hand to most things and so, while his journey was paid for by his own toil, it was an invaluable time that he would never forget and that had taught him far more about life and living than his schooling ever had.
When he got back home, he’d settled in very well, helped by his pleasing nature and sociability and his talent for dressing a good window. That was his task on this particular morning and as he laid the watches out with loving care, she came along and lingered in front of the window, her eye caught by a filigree pendant on a gold chain at the further end of the display. An older woman, possibly a relative, accompanied her but it was the girl he studied carefully noting the delicacy of her features, the length of her lashes as she looked down at the blue velvet-covered window display. She reminded him of springtime, and summer walks through fields of wild flowers way back in his childhood and he knew there and then that it would be his life’s work to meet her and get to know this lovely creature who had made such an impression on him.
She moved away and he quickly left the window and walked to the door, watching the lines of her as she made her way to the carriage waiting in the street, her skirt scuffing the cobbles and although her mane of dark hair was coiled and twisted sedately on top of her head, wispy tendrils of curl escaped at her temples and the back of her neck, giving him a hint of its length. Just for a second, his brain was invaded with a series of thoughts that brought a hot feeling around his stand-up, starched collar and he shoved a finger between it and his damp neck. How on earth he could ever be in a position to even speak to the girl was a mystery but one he must solve. It would be improper to approach her in the street or indeed anywhere for that matter without a formal introduction so he asked around trying to find out who she was and if anyone in his circle of friends or acquaintances knew her and would be able to afford him such an introduction. He had no luck and was distraught when all attempts to even identify her had failed.
Fate was on his side however when, two weeks later, the girl entered the shop once again accompanied by the older female companion. He smartly sidestepped a colleague and in seconds, stood before the pair with the words “ Good morning Madame. How may I be of assistance?” Although he addressed the older lady, he glanced at the girl and was so struck by her eyes that he almost missed the reply. She wished to see the pendant, which he fetched post haste and, putting it in front of them, stepped back a little for a better all over view of the epitome of feminine charm and grace in front of him. The pendant was beautiful and a fitting gift indeed for the girl if that were the case…
”May I be so bold as to ask if it’s for yourself, Madame, or for the young lady?” he said.
“It’s for my niece,” she replied, gesturing towards the girl. “ I shall take it.”
“ May I suggest that you have it engraved Madame?”
“What a good idea, young man. In that case, I think ‘To Jennifer with love from Aunt Raine’ would be appropriate.”
“Very good Madame. It shall be done. May I have your address and the item will be delivered by this time tomorrow”
He had her name, her address and as he would be delivering it himself, it was only a matter of time before he was on the first step to making his dream come true.
Jennifer lived in one of those quiet Regency squares together with her Aunt, an elder sister Evelyn and a brother Richard, who was two years younger than her own tender age of eighteen. Her sister was on the point of marrying a well-heeled young fellow. At the age of twenty-five, she was deemed rather long in the tooth and her Aunt Raine had been afraid she was going to be left at home, one of those to be looked on with pity – a maiden lady. Evelyn, however, wanted to be sure that she was marrying the right man and after three years of courtship, she was sure that Edward was the man for her and Aunt Raine breathed a huge sigh of relief when Evelyn accepted his proposal at last. The wedding was to be in four months time and Jennifer was beside herself at the thought of the beautiful bridesmaid’s dress she would be wearing. Young Richard was a copy boy for the local newspaper. Even at such a young age, he was a dedicated writer and several manuscripts as well as his own newspaper were not without his reach, he felt, a little further in the future. Jennifer, as was befitting a young lady of her station, did not work of course. The untimely death of her parents two years before had left all of them traumatised but extremely well taken care of financially, although Jennifer would not see one single penny of her money until she was twenty five. There were also conditions to the will, which did not in the least trouble Jennifer at this stage in her life. Her days were filled with recitals, tea parties, garden parties, music lessons and the like and if she had but realised it, she was very close to the top of many a young man’s list as a potential bride. But Jennifer had the rare quality of being totally unaware of just how lovely she was. Her nature matched her in every way and she desperately missed her parents, still shedding tears when she would unexpectedly come upon a reminder of them, such as the fan she had embroidered at school for her mother all that time ago. She painted very passable watercolours and was quite an accomplished pianist together with all the other skills a wife was expected to have. Jennifer was not in the least interested in getting married. She had a life to live first with travel and adventure.... but that was before she met William.
The old man sat at his workbench surrounded by timepieces in various stages of repair. His shoulders were hunched in concentration as his bony hands wielded the tiny tool he was using as he peered into the back of the watch through his eyeglass. He wore a scarf, and fingerless gloves covered his hands for it grew cold here in the evening. The shelves and walls of the room were decorated with clocks and all around him, soft and loud ticks competed with each other for attention but to the old man, their familiarity allowed them to fade into the background and as he worked, he let his thoughts wander to a previous time…
When he saw his future wife for the first time all those years ago, she was standing outside the jeweller’s shop where he’d just landed his first situation. He’d been abroad for the last four years, learning about the world, broadening his horizons and finishing the education he’d won on a scholarship. He had a good brain and could put his hand to most things and so, while his journey was paid for by his own toil, it was an invaluable time that he would never forget and that had taught him far more about life and living than his schooling ever had.
When he got back home, he’d settled in very well, helped by his pleasing nature and sociability and his talent for dressing a good window. That was his task on this particular morning and as he laid the watches out with loving care, she came along and lingered in front of the window, her eye caught by a filigree pendant on a gold chain at the further end of the display. An older woman, possibly a relative, accompanied her but it was the girl he studied carefully noting the delicacy of her features, the length of her lashes as she looked down at the blue velvet-covered window display. She reminded him of springtime, and summer walks through fields of wild flowers way back in his childhood and he knew there and then that it would be his life’s work to meet her and get to know this lovely creature who had made such an impression on him.
She moved away and he quickly left the window and walked to the door, watching the lines of her as she made her way to the carriage waiting in the street, her skirt scuffing the cobbles and although her mane of dark hair was coiled and twisted sedately on top of her head, wispy tendrils of curl escaped at her temples and the back of her neck, giving him a hint of its length. Just for a second, his brain was invaded with a series of thoughts that brought a hot feeling around his stand-up, starched collar and he shoved a finger between it and his damp neck. How on earth he could ever be in a position to even speak to the girl was a mystery but one he must solve. It would be improper to approach her in the street or indeed anywhere for that matter without a formal introduction so he asked around trying to find out who she was and if anyone in his circle of friends or acquaintances knew her and would be able to afford him such an introduction. He had no luck and was distraught when all attempts to even identify her had failed.
Fate was on his side however when, two weeks later, the girl entered the shop once again accompanied by the older female companion. He smartly sidestepped a colleague and in seconds, stood before the pair with the words “ Good morning Madame. How may I be of assistance?” Although he addressed the older lady, he glanced at the girl and was so struck by her eyes that he almost missed the reply. She wished to see the pendant, which he fetched post haste and, putting it in front of them, stepped back a little for a better all over view of the epitome of feminine charm and grace in front of him. The pendant was beautiful and a fitting gift indeed for the girl if that were the case…
”May I be so bold as to ask if it’s for yourself, Madame, or for the young lady?” he said.
“It’s for my niece,” she replied, gesturing towards the girl. “ I shall take it.”
“ May I suggest that you have it engraved Madame?”
“What a good idea, young man. In that case, I think ‘To Jennifer with love from Aunt Raine’ would be appropriate.”
“Very good Madame. It shall be done. May I have your address and the item will be delivered by this time tomorrow”
He had her name, her address and as he would be delivering it himself, it was only a matter of time before he was on the first step to making his dream come true.
Jennifer lived in one of those quiet Regency squares together with her Aunt, an elder sister Evelyn and a brother Richard, who was two years younger than her own tender age of eighteen. Her sister was on the point of marrying a well-heeled young fellow. At the age of twenty-five, she was deemed rather long in the tooth and her Aunt Raine had been afraid she was going to be left at home, one of those to be looked on with pity – a maiden lady. Evelyn, however, wanted to be sure that she was marrying the right man and after three years of courtship, she was sure that Edward was the man for her and Aunt Raine breathed a huge sigh of relief when Evelyn accepted his proposal at last. The wedding was to be in four months time and Jennifer was beside herself at the thought of the beautiful bridesmaid’s dress she would be wearing. Young Richard was a copy boy for the local newspaper. Even at such a young age, he was a dedicated writer and several manuscripts as well as his own newspaper were not without his reach, he felt, a little further in the future. Jennifer, as was befitting a young lady of her station, did not work of course. The untimely death of her parents two years before had left all of them traumatised but extremely well taken care of financially, although Jennifer would not see one single penny of her money until she was twenty five. There were also conditions to the will, which did not in the least trouble Jennifer at this stage in her life. Her days were filled with recitals, tea parties, garden parties, music lessons and the like and if she had but realised it, she was very close to the top of many a young man’s list as a potential bride. But Jennifer had the rare quality of being totally unaware of just how lovely she was. Her nature matched her in every way and she desperately missed her parents, still shedding tears when she would unexpectedly come upon a reminder of them, such as the fan she had embroidered at school for her mother all that time ago. She painted very passable watercolours and was quite an accomplished pianist together with all the other skills a wife was expected to have. Jennifer was not in the least interested in getting married. She had a life to live first with travel and adventure.... but that was before she met William.