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The christening Sunday had been and gone, as had almost three weeks and Polly-Anna had never been busier.
She had been given so much positive word of mouth from Mabel Shelby, who went around street by street, showing the world the dress that her two hands made in under four days. Customers had began to ask for Polly-Anna by name and the glares she had received from every other tailor in that shop was unbelievable.
Why people couldn't be happy for her, she didn't know.
So— she did something a little off the cuff, cheeky so to say. Instead of having clients directly through the tailor shop, she had agreed with Amber that they should start their own. Starting off small of course.
Their living room had changed from a place where the two played together, to where Polly-Anna could sew, stitch and cut fabric to suit her new clientele.
Wallace Tailors, an easy name to remember, and she had Amber with her every step of the way.
Though Amber couldn't yet sew or put together a pattern, she was incredible at finding out what natural flowers, leaves and berries were able to dye the white cotton threading. She found so much fun in scavenging the fields with John, and trialling every single thing she found. Some were brilliant successes, others turned the thread brown. It hadn't necessarily been the colour Amber had been after but it wouldn't be wasted, and it just pushed her to try new things. To be adventurous.
At almost fourteen, working two jobs, Polly-Anna couldn't thank Mabel Shelby enough. The woman was a saint, bringing light into a once dim room, and the smallest little trinkets she had found throughout her life too.
"Anna— some ladies are at the door..." Amber whispered, walking into their shared bedroom, almost hiding behind the old chest height cabinet.
Looking down at her wristwatch, for a moment taking her time to figure out that it was almost six in the evening, she stood up from her chair, placing down the latest piece of skirt that was being embroidered with Ambers new coloured threads. She hadn't been expecting anyone, and it wasn't like her mother was inviting people round— she didn't know anyone.
"Just— sit at the table and start with your independent reading..." Polly-Anna whispered in response, a guiding hand placed onto the top of Ambers back.
Amber did just that, taking out a Biff, Chip and Kipper book from her bag. Polly-Anna hadn't been in school long enough to read about the magical adventures of those three, but she heard all of the stories through Amber who loved them as much as she loved mud.
At least she enjoyed her schooling and she wasn't a difficult kid like everyone had expected her to be.
Stepping up to the front door, Polly-Anna ran one hand down the side of her skirt whilst the other hovered over the handle for a moment. To say she was apprehensive was an understatement but there was no time like the present. Plus, if she kept dawdling, she'd make herself sick from the stress and anticipation.
