The village of Little Dippington was less than a kilometer from Auntie Annabelle’s cottage, so James and Susan decided to walk. The morning was glorious, not a cloud in the sky, and it was warm enough but not too warm to enjoy walking. They strolled hand-in-hand along the side of the country lane, taking their time to stop and pick wild flax and daisies along the way.
They arrived late morning in the village, and upon James’s insistence, went first to a shop that sold a variety of household items, including teacups, pitchers, cream pots and sugar bowls.
A bell tinkled above the door as they entered the shop and a rosy-cheeked woman with a broad smile greeted them.
“Is that you, James?” she asked, looking over the top of a pair of spectacles perched on her nose.
“Is that you, Emily?” he responded.
“Well, I say, dearie, haven’t laid eyes on you in an age. Are you still playing music with your mates in Brighton? Your Auntie said you were getting pretty popular.”
“Well, as to that, can’t say we’re all that popular, but we’re doing all right. Got a gig at the Dusky, better than our last gig.”
“Oh, and who’s your lady friend here? Going to introduce me?”
“Of course! Emily, this is Susan, a history student from America, and Susan, this is Emily, one of Auntie Annabelle’s long-time and best of friends.”
“Pleased to meet you, dear,” said Emily, extending her hand.
Susan held out her own, and Emily took it in both of hers. “Lovely little thing,” she said to James, turning to look at him. “What brings you into Little Dippington today?”
“Thought we’d look to buy Auntie a new teacup and just browse around the village.”
“And where is Annabelle? Did she come with you, or is her arthritis acting up again?”
“Arthritis acting up again.”
“Och, well, tell her I said hallo, dearie, will you?”
“Of course, Emily. So, show us one of your best teacups, will you?”
“Sure thing, and right over here.”
She led them over to some shelves at the back of the shop, pointing to the ones on the top shelf. “Those are the prettiest, I think. Nice size too.” She left them as an elderly woman entered from a room in the back of the shop, holding out a frail hand and pointing it at Susan.
Neither James nor Susan noticed her.
“So, which one do you fancy?” James asked.
“I like the one with hummingbirds painted on it,” she replied. He took it down from the shelf and handed it to her.
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “This one is lovely!”
They both walked over to the counter, where Emily was talking quietly to the old woman, but as Susan was opening her purse to take out some money to pay for the cup, James stepped in front of her and handed some bills to Emily.
“Excellent choice,” said Emily, wrapping the cup in tissue, placing it in a bag and handing it back to James. “Hope to see you again soon. Nice meeting you, dear. I hope you enjoy your visit to England and that Annabelle makes you some of her excellent scones.”
Susan glanced at James then turned back to Emily. “I hope so too. Very nice meeting you as well.”
“Och! Wait just a minute,” Emily exclaimed, suddenly thinking of something. “I have a bit of leftover kidney for Buttons. Let me run upstairs and fetch it real quick.”
She bustled off to the back of the shop, up a set of stairs, and was soon back with a small sack. She handed it to Susan. “Buttons loves kidney. I hope she enjoys it!”
“Why, how thoughtful of you!” Susan said, glancing over her shoulder at James. “Buttons will be very grateful, I’m sure.” She slipped the sack into her purse.
James and Susan headed towards the door.
“Wait!” croaked the old woman in a hoarse voice, pointing a finger at Susan again. “Ye should no be here, ye know!”
James and Susan stared at her.
“I know who ye are. I can help ye...I can help ye get back now...Ye should go back now...Ye’ll break his heart, ye know…” The old lady’s voice trailed off as Emily grabbed her arm and turned her around toward the back of the shop.
Susan had frozen at her words.
“Come along, Granny,” Emily said to the old woman. She turned to Susan. “Don’t mind her words now. She’s gone a bit daft in her old age. Imagines all sorts of strange things. Thinks she can see into the future and all.” She shook her head as she led Granny away.
Susan was rooted to the spot. James took her hand, and they left the shop.
When they got outside, Susan turned to James and asked, “Why did you make Emily think your Aunt was at home, and who was that old lady?”
He looked at her sheepishly. “Well, word spreads fast in a small village, and the people here can be pretty prim and proper. No reason to start unnecessary gossip…”
“Or to make them think I’m a scarlet woman, is that it?”
“Ummm….yes…let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
“Fine with me. But, who was that old lady? Did you hear what she said?”
“She’s a looney one; that she is. She’s Emily’s Granny; must be close to a hundred by now. Everyone in the village says she has ‘the sight.’ You know, she can see into people’s souls and tell the future, that sort of stuff. All nonsense, of course.”
“Oh...of course... So, why did you go ahead and pay for the cup? I’m the one who broke it; I should have paid for it.”
He shrugged. “Because I thought I should, that’s all. You shouldn’t be spending your money. Oh, look over there! It’s Simon’s art studio; I wonder if he’s in today. Want to take a look?”
“Sure.”
They walked across the street and entered a small shop with landscape paintings displayed in the front window. As they entered, a tall bearded man peeked at them from behind an easel, bushy eyebrows raised.
“Eh, Jimmie, is that you? Haven’t laid eyes on you in an age. Still attending art school? Still playing in a band? Done any good artwork lately?”
“Slow down, Simon; you’re asking too many questions all at once. Yes, it’s me. No, I’m not still in art school, and I haven’t done any sketching or painting lately, but I’ve been playing music with Derek. We’re getting pretty popular.”
Susan grinned at that.
“Music, eh? Well, that’s a form of art after all, isn’t it?”
“For sure it is…by the by, this is a friend of mine, Susan. Susan, this is Simon. He used to give me bits of canvas to paint on when I was young. Got me interested in art.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Susan, extending her hand.
Simon grasped it firmly and shook it up and down. “Pleased to meet you too. Are you an artist as well?”
“Actually, she’s a history student, here on tour. The other students got delayed, so she has a few days free before she’s to join them,” responded James.
Susan looked at James, a tad annoyed that he answered Simon’s question for her.
“To answer your question, Simon, I’m not much of an artist, but I do love to draw. I like drawing people. Pencil, sometimes charcoal or pastels, but I’ve also done a bit of painting, not very much though,” Susan said.
“Ah, a fellow artist!” exclaimed Simon.
“Always good to meet a fellow artist.”
“You didn’t tell me you liked to draw,” said James, looking at her wonderingly.
“You never asked,” she replied.
“What about we pick up some tablets and pencils then go back to the cottage and do some drawing?”
“Oh, that would be fabulous! I’d enjoy that!”
Simon looked at them both curiously, sensing something more than mere friendship between them. There was something in the way they looked at each other. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but being an artist, he was more sensitive and aware of body language than most. He sensed attraction bubbling between them. Aw, romance...
“I’ll get some things for you, then,” said Simon, standing up and going to a room in the back of the studio. He returned a moment later with two large sketch pads and a handful of pencils.
“Will these do?” he asked.
James reached into his pocket, asking what he owed.
“Nothing, nothing,” said Simon. “My pleasure. Enjoy some drawing. A fine day for it outdoors.”
“Generous of you, Simon,” said James. “Appreciate it.”
Simon nodded and smiled as they left the shop. “Something very cozy going on between those two,” he thought.
***
“Where to next?” asked James, looking up and down the street.
“Are we going back to Brighton today?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. I don’t have to be back until tomorrow, you know. We only play on Tuesday, Friday and Saturday. I kinda thought you might want to stay out here.”
“Well, put that way, I think I would like to stay, even though we’re being so wicked and probably shouldn’t be here at all.”
“I’m enjoying being wicked, aren’t you?” She blushed.
“Well, if we’re not going back today, is there any place that sells clothing, something like shorts and tops or something like that? This is the second day I’ve been in this dress.”
“You haven’t been in the dress all that much,” he quipped.
She nudged him with her elbow, blushing again. “You’re incorrigible,” she said.
“Do you mind?”
“No, not really.”
They walked further down the street and shortly came to a shop with clothing displayed in the front window. Just before they went in, Susan looked over her shoulder down the street to see Emily’s Granny standing in the open front door of the shop, staring at her. A shiver went down her spine. What had the old lady meant when she said Susan would “break his heart?” She turned away, and they went into the store.
The shop had both men’s and women’s apparel, most of it more suited to older people, but Susan spotted an emerald green, silky-looking dress that didn’t look too dowdy. There weren’t any shorts or tops, just dresses, skirts, and blouses. She figured women who lived here probably didn’t wear shorts very often.
“Oooo, feel this dress!” she exclaimed, running her hands down it. “So, so slinky and soft.”
James reached out and touched it. “Very nice,” he remarked. “Do you want it then?”
“I need to try it on.”
They both looked around the shop for a salesperson but didn’t see anyone at first. From
behind a nearby clothes rack, out popped a short dark-haired woman with her hair up in a knot. “Need to try that on, dearie?” she asked, a handful of pins in her mouth.
“Um, yes, I’d like to,” said Susan.
“Just a minute then. I was pinning up a hem on a skirt for someone. Let me get rid of these pins.”
She bustled off and returned a minute later. “This way, dearie.”
Susan followed her to a small curtained area at the back of the shop.
“Need any help?”
“No, thanks; I think I’ll be fine.”
She slipped behind the curtain, took off the sundress she’d been wearing for two days, and pulled the silky dress up and over her hips, wiggling into it. There was a short row of buttons on the back that was hard to do up by herself, but the dress fit perfectly. It was brilliant emerald green in color, with a scalloped neck, gathered bust and a waist that clung to her nicely, flaring out at the hips. A tiny bit of cleavage poked out the neckline. The feel of it against her skin was delicious. She pranced out from behind the curtain and twirled in front of James and the saleslady.
“What do you think?”
“Lovely!” the saleslady said.
“You look beautiful,” remarked James.
“In that case, I’ll take it,” said Susan.
She went back behind the curtain and changed back into her sundress, coming back out with the silky green dress draped over her arm. She walked over to the counter with the dress, opened her purse and said, “So how much do I owe you?” when James pushed in front of her and said, “Yes, how much is the dress, then? I’ll be paying for it.”
When the saleslady stated the price, James blanched but pulled bills out of his pocket the same time Susan pulled some out of her purse.
“No,” said Susan. “I’m paying for this. It’s a dress for me; I have plenty of money, and you don’t need to keep paying for everything.”
“But I do, you know,” he said, pushing his money onto the counter.
“No, you don’t,” she insisted, pushing his money back towards him and placing her own on the counter. “You already paid for the cup I broke.”
He pressed his hand down on top of hers as she was pushing her money towards the saleslady.
“I said I was paying for it, which means I’m paying for it and you’re not. Is that not clear or something?”
She suddenly sensed he was angry and looked up at his face. Not clear? What in the hell was that supposed to mean?
And then she saw he was angry. She could see his eyes narrowed as he looked her straight in the face, unblinking. She’d seen that look before; it was when she’d walked into the practice room after the hand kissing incident.
“But,” she started to say.
“But, nothing. Haven’t you been listening? Haven’t I made myself clear?” His voice was calm but cold.
Slowly, he lifted his hand off hers, and she drew her money back towards her and put it back in her purse. She looked contrite but felt furious inside.
“Well, this is a side of him I wasn’t expecting,” she thought, fuming. Controlling. And, as Lynn would have told him if she’d been here, she wasn’t a person to be controlled or bossed around.
She found her temper begin to rise higher. No man had ever told her what she could or couldn’t do, not even when she was seventeen. In fact, never! She’d always had one of those rebellious natures, and was used to getting her way. She felt like saying “just never mind!” about the dress and stomping out of the shop.
Without any further words, the saleslady rung up the purchase, folded the dress between tissue paper, placed it in a box and handed it to James. He put it under his arm, took Susan by the elbow and they left the shop.
When they got outside, she spun around to look at him and shook her elbow free, stepping away from him a few feet and planting her hands on her hips.
“And what was that all about?” she asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice.
“It’s not your place to pay for things when you’re with me,” he said. “If you want or need something, you let me know, and I’ll take care of it. You’re not to spend your money! Do you understand me?”
“But I have plenty of money, and I know you probably don’t, so why all the fuss?”
“Is that what girls do in America then? Humiliate their guy by paying for everything?”
“Humiliate? What in the hell are you talking about? It’s a simple fact that I have the money to pay for whatever shit I want!” Her voice was raised.
“Well, then you need to learn that’s not the way it’s done here. When you’re with me, I’m the one who pays for everything, including what you may need or want. And quit the swearing! It’s not ladylike. I’m not letting you pay for anything, and you better understand that. And, maybe you don’t always get what you want!”
His voice was rising even higher than hers. People who were walking by slowed down to try and eavesdrop on the conversation.
“Oh really...I better understand that?!!...” she fumed. And here he was on his way to becoming a millionaire and didn’t even know it!
Then, she paused, looking down at the ground for a minute, tapping her foot on the cobblestone street while she tried to gather her wits about her and calm down. It would be pretty stupid and embarrassing to make a scene in the middle of the street. This was the early sixties after all. Women’s Lib hadn’t happened yet. Unless a woman was single or divorced and needed to work a job, she stayed home, kept house and made babies.
She suddenly realized that she had stepped over the line for the period of time she was in. She shouldn’t even have gone into the shop to look for anything. Her sundress was just fine. She could have just washed it in the sink or something. She’d forced him out of pride to pay for something he probably couldn’t afford right now. She felt terrible.
“I wasn’t thinking,” she said meekly. “I didn’t need another dress...” She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “Should we take it back?”
“No; you looked beautiful in it,” he said, the anger instantly fading from his eyes as he saw her tears. If it was one thing he couldn’t abide, it was a woman’s tears. “I want you to put it on when we get back to the cottage; then we can take our pads and pencils, go sit up under the tree and sketch.”
“Oh James,” she said, looking into his eyes and leaning up to peck his cheek. “Thank you...”
He smiled, took her hand, and they walked back to the cottage.