Chapter 18

‘I feel sorry for Anjali,’ said Panya to her cousin, who had joined ‘Threads of Arrow Street’ as its new assistant, covering the busy times that arrive as the March winds fold into April showers.

‘I had to speak to Anjali’s uncle. There was nothing else I could do.’

She pushed a needle firmly into the material, pulling it through from the other side with determination.

‘There was nothing else that offered itself.’

She looked across at her cousin, who was pushing down on one of the commercial irons with the care of someone still feeling their way.

‘Push that more firmly,’ said Panya. ‘The secret of good tailoring is very much down to how hard you press.’

They both worked silently until Panya had finished the line of stitches and fastened the white thread firmly in place.

‘I remember, I once asked my father, one frosty winter, not to put traps down to kill the mice. My father replied, “but you have to kill mice to protect your larder.”’

She folded the blouse she had been working on and placed it carefully on the shop counter.

‘I protested,’ she continued. ‘I said to him, but the mice are having a hard time this winter.’

‘If the mice would just take a little,’ my father replied, ‘I could live with it. The trouble with mice is that they just do not know when to stop.’

Panya picked up a dress, its waist needing extending, and fell silent again as she concentrated.

‘Measure twice, cut once,’ she said under her breath.