Opal Plumstead Read online

  Oh goodness, she hated me now for upsetting Miss Lily, the treasure of the design room. What exactly did ‘for the moment’ mean? Was she going to dismiss me from the factory forthwith?

  We were supposed to get on with our work, but this was impossible. The other girls murmured together. I was too proud to say anything, but I thrust my fairy lid into the waste-paper basket, unable to look at it now.

  I waited for nearly an hour. Then at last Mrs Roberts returned, alone.

  ‘Come with me,’ she said. She looked at the box lid on my desk. I’d only been able to work up one rose, and I’d botched that because my hand was shaking so much.

  ‘Is this the lid that offended Miss Lily?’ she asked.

  ‘No, no.’

  ‘Then where is it?’

  ‘I threw it in the waste-paper basket,’ I said, shame-faced.

  ‘Then retrieve it and bring it with you,’ said Mrs Roberts. ‘Girls, Miss Lily has been taken unwell and won’t be returning today. Alice, I shall leave you temporarily in charge. Go to Mr Beeston if there are any further problems. Please continue your excellent work.’

  I took my poor fairies out of the waste-paper basket. I’d thrust them in with such despair that the lid had crumpled. I hated the very sight of it now. I carried it at arm’s length like a banner of shame, and followed Mrs Roberts to her room.

  I usually found it an oasis of style and loveliness, but now it seemed cool and alien, making me feel very grubby and guilty. I saw a little lace handkerchief in a soggy ball on the Persian rug.

  ‘Oh, it’s Miss Lily’s,’ I said. ‘Is she really ill, Mrs Roberts?’

  ‘She’s very upset. I felt it kindest to send her home in my car,’ said Mrs Roberts.

  ‘Upset because of me?’

  ‘Yes indeed. Oh dear, Opal, what am I going to do with you? I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you came to blows with Patty in the fondant room – but I simply won’t have you upsetting poor Miss Lily.’

  ‘I would never ever hit Miss Lily!’ I said.

  Mrs Roberts shook her head at me. ‘Don’t be tiresome, Opal. Though you might just as well have punched the poor lady in the solar plexus. She was doubled up with pain.’ She saw my face. ‘Mental distress. I don’t think she was in actual physical pain, but I thought it wisest to send her home all the same. I very much value Miss Lily. She’s been with the firm for so many years. Her designs are vital to the company. How could you have deliberately scribbled some nonsense on the box lid?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was . . . nonsense,’ I said.

  ‘But it wasn’t the design,’ said Mrs Roberts.

  ‘I embellished the design,’ I protested.

  ‘Let me see.’ Mrs Roberts held out her hand.

  I gave her the box lid. She stared at it. I waited for her outcry, but she didn’t say a word. She reached for a magnifying glass on her desk and examined my fairies.

  ‘Fairies!’ she said, peering at them.

  ‘I saw your beautiful fairy paintings, you see, Mrs Roberts, and I started to think about our designs. They have the name Fairy Glen on every box, so why not incorporate a few fairies on the picture as a novelty? So many people have a special gift box of Fairy Glen fondants or toffees or candy kisses. They keep them as treasure boxes for their letters or handkerchiefs or jewellery. I have one in my own bedroom. Perhaps some people go on and collect all three designs. But there’s no incentive to buy further gift boxes if they’re all identical. You might just as well be saving our time and using transfers. But if we had different fairies on every box, think how girls would love to set up a grand collection. I’m not suggesting a whole host of fairies because that would be too time-consuming, but several in different costumes and attitudes each time would still be a delightful feature. Well, I thought it would. I thought Miss Lily would like my idea once she saw it.’

  ‘You didn’t think to consult her first?’

  ‘I did wonder, but then I thought Deeds, not words would be more persuasive.’

  Mrs Roberts gave me a sharp look, and then snorted with laughter. She actually threw back her head and roared. ‘Opal Plumstead, you are the most extraordinary girl,’ she said. She picked up my box lid and examined it again. ‘I can see why Miss Lily was so upset. The purity of her design is jeopardized. Yet I rather like your little fairies, and I like your sales pitch even more. I can see you have a good business head on your shoulders as well as an inventive mind. Let me think about this, Opal. I need to confer with the members of the board. Off you go now. And don’t take it into your head to do anything else revolutionary for a couple of days. I don’t think we could stand any further upsets.’

  ‘So you’re not cross with me now, Mrs Roberts?’

  ‘I’m cross with you for not being more tactful with Miss Lily, certainly, but I’m pleased with your initiative. Will that do?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. We are still friends, aren’t we? I know we have to be very formal here and you are my employer, but can I still see you at meetings?’

  ‘Of course. And I dare say there will be more picnic luncheons too,’ said Mrs Roberts, smiling at me properly at last.

  I walked back to the design room in a daze. The other girls all looked at me, waiting for me to pack up my things and creep off in disgrace. They shook their heads in astonishment when I calmly started on a meadow design, planning in my head where the fairies would go. One would be paddling in a stream, another gliding along it on a lily leaf, and perhaps a third would be riding on a rabbit.

  ‘What are you up to now, Opal?’ asked Alice.

  ‘You’ll see,’ I said airily.

  ‘Didn’t Mrs Roberts give you the push?’

  ‘On the contrary. She likes my fairy designs. She thinks they’re a brilliant new idea. She says I can carry on doing them,’ I said. ‘Well, perhaps. She has to discuss it with the board first.’

  ‘They’ll never agree. We’ve always done it this way. What will Miss Lily say?’ said Alice.

  ‘Oh, bother Miss Lily,’ I said, though I felt hot and horrified when I remembered how she’d trembled.

  Alice looked at me as if I’d blasphemed. ‘Pride comes before a fall, Opal Plumstead,’ she said. ‘You think you’re the bee’s knees just because Mrs Roberts has taken a shine to you for some unknown reason. You think you can shove your way in here and lord it over us when you’re just a chit of a girl. We’ve all been working in design for years. You mark my words, you’ll get your comeuppance soon enough. I feel it in my bones.’

  ‘You sound like a gypsy fortune-teller, Alice,’ I said, ‘and I never believe a word of that superstitious nonsense.’

  I was secretly unsettled all the same. What if she were right? I had showed off abominably, but Mrs Roberts hadn’t actually said I could continue with my fairy designs. Perhaps the members of the board would all be traditional old fogeys, contemporaries of Miss Lily. Mrs Roberts owned Fairy Glen, but it sounded as if they had a say in factory policy too.

  I’d just have to convince them with my work. I painted my meadow at lightning speed and inserted my fairies. I didn’t break for lunch: I worked straight through the hour, having sips of water and nibbles of bun as I painted. I moved straight on to the butterfly design. The butterflies were always painted large, one Red Admiral, one cabbage white and one cobalt blue. This gave me the chance to make my fairies large too, with detailed faces. I gave them little outfits, seemingly fashioned out of flower petals, and wings in matching butterfly designs. They were all three flying together, holding hands, a girl pointing her toes gracefully, a boy running in the air, and a baby kicking his chubby little legs.

  ‘Such nonsense,’ said Alice, peering over my shoulder. ‘You wait till Miss Lily comes back.’

  ‘Miss Lily isn’t my employer,’ I said. ‘I’m taking these straight to Mrs Roberts.’

  I picked up my two box lids and went along the corridor to Mrs Roberts. I knocked on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ she called, sounding a little imp