Ruby Jackson

A Christmas Gift


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laughed. ‘The girls in, Ron?’

      ‘And where else would they be on a weeknight? Go on up. Rose is washing her hair but everyone else is in the front room listening to the wireless.’

      A few minutes later, Daisy and Sally were in the kitchen, the door firmly shut against intruders.

      ‘Well, what do you think of that?’

      Daisy gazed at the ring. She tentatively stretched out a hand towards it.

      ‘Try it on; it’ll be too big but watch how it sparkles.’

      Daisy slipped it on and gazed in awe. It was much too big for her petite hand, but when she held it up the stones contrasted prettily with her green eyes and short dark hair. ‘Is it real? It can’t be real. It looks like something the Queen would have.’

      ‘Dad thinks it’s real and of course I have to return it. The owner must be frantic, poor woman. I would be, wouldn’t you?’

      They were silent for a moment as they stood silently, just watching the stones sparkle as light hit them.

      ‘I want you to help me find the owner, Daisy, because she must be a customer.’

      ‘Sorry, Sally, our customers can’t afford diamonds and rubies. We sell cheese and porridge oats and tinned peas. Rich people don’t eat porridge.’

      ‘Perhaps they don’t, but they drink fine teas.’

      The friends sank back in their chairs as this truth hit them.

      ‘You do some of the deliveries, Daisy.’

      ‘I can’t tell you customers’ names, Sally, and certainly not their addresses.’

      Sally sighed and Daisy recognised it, for once, as a genuine note of unhappiness. Sally was capable of showing a whole host of feelings, one after the other.

      ‘I wish I could help but the business is built on trust.’

      ‘Golly, I’m not going to steal something. I want to give this back.’

      ‘Take it back to—’ began Daisy.

      ‘I did. That was the first idea but it didn’t feel right and I just have this strange feeling that it’s really important for me to return it in person.’

      As with the sighs, Daisy was familiar with the feelings. ‘There’s the bathwater going. Rose is coming. Put the kettle on while I tell Mum we’ll bring the cocoa in to them.’

      Sally did as she was bid. They had enacted this scenario countless times over the years: the twins with Sally and sometimes their friend Grace, drinking cocoa in the kitchen, discussing great secret matters while their parents and brothers remained out of the way. Rose, Daisy’s non-identical twin, wearing a well-worn pink fluffy dressing gown, which was a bit short with her height, and a very damp towel round her long, wet corn-coloured hair, joined them.

      ‘Hello, I thought I heard the door. You don’t mind if I dry my hair in here?’ She carried on as Sally agreed. ‘How was the first day back? Did you skewer the old toad?’

      ‘He’s ill.’

      ‘I bet. No doubt the gorgeous Sebastian warned him off. Are you seeing him again?’

      ‘Get in front of the fire, Rose. Mum’ll explode if she sees your hair dripping all over the floor.’ Daisy plonked down a chair for her sister. ‘Show her the ring while I make her some cocoa, Sally.’

      The next few minutes were taken up with much trying on and oohing and aahing over the ring.

      ‘It has to belong to—’

      ‘Ouch, Daisy. That hurt. And what’s the harm in telling Sally? She’s hardly likely to burgle the place; she wants to take the ring back.’

      ‘Yes, and the way to do it is to return to the shop, speak to the Fedora lady and get her to contact them. Keep your dad happy by letting him put it in the safe, Sally. Fedora whoever will telephone them – they’re bound to have a telephone – and one careless owner will tell her to instruct you to bring it out. Who knows, maybe she loves theatre and you’ll become friends and she’ll help you in your career.’

      ‘You are silly, Daisy, but maybe that is the best way. I’ll handle it tomorrow.’

      ‘Phil and Ron will walk you home.’

      ‘What on earth for? They’ve never done it before.’

      ‘Because, Lady Griselda, thou art wearing the family jewels.’

      ‘Who’s the actress here, Daisy Petrie? But you’re right. I’m off and I’ll tell you what happens.’

      Nothing ‘happened’ for several days and then one lunch hour, Maude was standing outside the shop waving frantically.

      ‘Has Fedora managed to talk to them?’

      ‘At last. Come in and we’ll tell you. You’re a very lucky girl. Proves that doing the right thing is … the right thing.’

      Sally looked at her watch and decided she had just enough time to speak to the ladies and still be at the theatre ready for rehearsal. ‘Very well, but I mustn’t be late.’

      Maude ushered her into the shop.

      ‘Dear Sally,’ Fedora walked over from the counter where she had been making a display of donated hats and gloves. ‘I have some wonderful news for you.’

      ‘You’ve spoken to the owner?’

      ‘Two days ago and Sally, you are such a lucky young woman. The ring is yours.’ She stopped talking but her beaming smile told Sally how pleased she was.

      ‘Sorry, but this doesn’t make sense. I bought the cape …’

      ‘As far as the owner…the former owner is concerned, you also bought everything that was in the cloak, too. It’s yours, Sally, legally.’

      ‘What about his wife?’

      Fedora reached a supplicating hand towards Maude. ‘Maudie, you tell her.’

      ‘It’s an age-old story. A young man buys a ring for his wife whom he loves. A year later she decides that she no longer loves him or anything he gave her. She walked out leaving almost everything behind, clothes, jewellery etcetera.’

      ‘But she probably didn’t know that the ring was in the lining.’

      ‘Trust me, Sally, she doesn’t care. As far as he is concerned the ring means nothing to him either. He values it at less than you paid for the cloak. He was surprisingly rude about that.’

      ‘That makes no sense. It’s obviously valuable.’

      ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, young woman,’ Fedora said sternly. ‘As far as the shop is concerned, the subject is closed. Now you’d best hurry.’

      Sally stood speechless. Even the words ‘thank you’ refused to come. She turned and almost ran from the shop. The ring was hers but did she want it? It meant heartache, at least for the husband. Would she think of his broken dream if she were to wear the ring?

      Work, she decided. She would get to the theatre and forget the ring and her beautiful cloak; she would never wear it again.

      Some of Fedora’s words ran around in her head as she hurried.

      ‘I should have gone through the pockets, I’ll admit that, but I couldn’t somehow. My dear Maude is … known to his family and it would have seemed somehow intrusive. I should have reminded her that I hadn’t done it. We usually go through everything, of course, just in case something’s been forgotten, but I’ve only ever found used bus tickets or soiled handkerchiefs – so unpleasant. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have put you in an embarrassing position. I do wish I’d been in when you came back first, Sally.’ She stopped, obviously extremely perplexed. ‘I’ve never worked