Lord Day and Lady Night

59. Fishy Clothing

"Um...are you sure we are in the right place to purchase apparel?" Lord Patrick enquired, gazing up at the shop front. He glanced back at Amy, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"What did ye expect? Savile Row?"

"No. But when you said you were taking me to purchase appropriate clothing, I definitely didn't expect that."

He pointed at the cracked old sign over the door, which read:

Freddy's Diving Den

"Oh, that's just Freddy!" She waved a hand and, as if that explained everything, pulled him into the grungy building.

The interior of the store turned out to be surprisingly pleasant. Except for a bit of dust here and there, and a rather odd odour in the air, Lord Patrick thought it looked downright cosy. All kinds of clothes and knick-knacks were scattered across worn wooden shelves of various sizes. It really didn't look that much different from a middle-class pawnbroker's shop. In fact, His Lordship found that, for some reason, the quality of the clothes for sale was surprisingly high. Sure, they had a strange stain here and there, but the cloth looked nearly unworn, almost new. And yet, oddly enough, the price tags attached showed pleasantly low prices.

"Miss Amy! So nice to see you after all this time. Welcome! Welcome to my store. Have you finally decided to become a patron of my humble establishment?"

His Lordship turned to see a portly little man hurrying out from a back room, arms spread wide and a welcoming smile on his face.

"Not today, Freddy, not today." Amy shook her head, smirking. "But I've brought a friend along who'd just love some of your finest pieces."

Wait...she had never bought anything from here before? But then why had she brought him to this store to get—

Lord Patrick's thoughts were abruptly cut off by an explosion of enthusiasm.

"A customer? A customer!" The little man jumped up and down as if manna had just been dropped from heaven, along with a spoon, plate, and a card saying Bon Appetit, Yours Sincerely, God. Beaming, he rushed towards Patrick. "Is it you, Sir, who has decided to honour me by purchasing a selection of my finest wares?"

Lord Patrick bowed, pleasantly surprised. "That is indeed the case, Mr...?"

Amy gestured towards the beaming little man. "Patrick, this is Mr Freddy Farthingale. But most people just call him Freddy the Fisher."

"Oh, you like to fish, do you?" Lord Patrick felt a broad smile spread over his face, instantly taking a liking to a fellow sportsman. "I understand absolutely! There's nothing quite like relaxing with a rod in your hands at the shore, listening to the calming sound of the water."

Freddy blinked, seeming taken aback for some reason. "Err...yes. Quite."

"So that's where the name of the shop comes from, is it? I must say, it's quite pleasant to meet a fellow lover of water sports. Where, if I may ask, are your preferred haunts? I love going to the seaside for a spot of fishing, myself. The fresh sea air is just so invigorating."

The little man coughed and glanced at Amy. "Err...I'm more of a river man, myself."

Amy hurriedly stepped forward. "Why don't ye show 'im yer selection, Freddy?"

"Capital idea, capital!" Patrick nodded, patting the other man on the back. He had been slightly apprehensive about this place before, but now, he could see he was in excellent hands. "Show me your very best!"

***

"Err...Miss Amy?"

"Yes, Freddy?" Amy was currently looking through the bonnets and scarves Freddy had for sale. Not that she was mad enough to ever buy any. She might not be the richest woman in the world—thank you so much for snatching that spot, Lilly—but she wasn't so hard up that she had to buy at this place.