The Shoemaker's Daughter by Iris Gower Read Free Book Online Page B

presence even?
    Emily rang the bell and when Letty bobbed in the doorway, she spoke coldly.
    ‘See this woman out by the tradesman’s entrance. Oh and before you go, Miss Morgan, tell your father I shall no longer be requiring shoes from him, I will purchase my goods elsewhere.’
    Angharad Morgan stared at her defiantly. ‘That won’t be possible,’ she spoke with dignity. ‘My father died some months ago and, as for me, I can find work from far more rewarding customers.’
    At the door she turned. ‘I will bring the shoes I am making for you now, the ones with the amethysts as decoration and I will expect payment for the work I’ve done, mind. And there’s something you should know, the amethysts are stones of tranquillity, it might do you a bit of good to wear them.’
    She smiled. ‘From now on you will have to find a shoemaker skilled enough to make the sort of shoes you like and you might find that difficult. You see the other shoemakers in Swansea are men and not interested in fiddly little slippers. Bore da , Miss Grenfell.’
    As the door closed behind the girl, Emily somehow felt that she had been bested. Angharad Morgan had spirit and intelligence as well as beauty. Emily bit her lip, the girl was obviously in touch with Craig, perhaps they were even living in the same house.
    Emily moved to the desk and sat down, spreading the pages of figures out before her. She must forget the girl and concentrate on helping Craig. She chewed her lip anxiously. It was clear that funds were being embezzled but who could be doing it? Could it possibly be the accountant Edward Morris?
    Emily rubbed her eyes as the figures swam before her, that didn’t make sense. Edward was Craig’s friend, surely he wouldn’t have allowed Craig to go to prison in his place?
    There were several other people who had access to the accounts, Spencer Grenfell for one. The two brothers had not always got along very well but in spite of their differences, Spencer would never do anything to harm the firm or his brother.
    Emily drew a sheet of writing paper towards her and picking up the pen began to write . . . Dear Spencer, there is something I think you should see  . . .
    Hari was angry as she walked back through the streets towards her home, Emily Grenfell was nothing but a snob, she thought everyone beneath her. It was infuriating to be told she was stupid. What did Emily Grenfell know about people like her?
    A warmth filled her, Hari smiled as she thought of Craig Grenfell waiting for her, eager for news of what was happening to clear his name.
    Hari smiled, she knew more than Emily, she knew where Craig was, and she was learning all about him, how kind he was and what a real gent he could be.
    She had been surprised to find that he didn’t feel it beneath him to help her in the house. He got up early that first morning and lit the fire for her. He even made a pot of tea and poured her a cup when she got up for work. He’d even tried his hand at tapping boots, they were done with more enthusiasm than skill, but so far there had been no complaints from the customers.
    She entered the kitchen from the back gate closing the door on the small yard with a click of finality. She had done her best for Craig, now it was up to his own kin to sort his problems out for him.
    He was kneeling before the fire, his hands and face black with coal dust. Hari looked at him with raised eyebrows.
    He smiled. ‘I’ve been out picking coal,’ he sat back on his heels and shrugged, ‘it’s not strictly legal of course, but I don’t think that matters in the circumstances.’
    ‘You must be more careful!’ Hari said quickly, ‘You could be recognized.’
    He got to his feet. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, ‘not looking like this.’
    He stared at her as she shed her shawl and sank into a chair.
    ‘Well, Hari, what has happened?’ He rubbed his fingers through his hair and she could tell he was anxious.
    ‘It’ll be all right,’ she