Author: Hoehomi-Chan PM
Everyone knows that Sable and Tom Nook have been diving in and out of a relationship all of their lives. Once Tom returns from the city after six years, and an exhilirating night ensues, Sable discovers not long after that she's pregnant. But Tom doesn't want a baby; and bluntly rejects her. How can Sable cope? Will she pull herself together in time for her baby? Without Tom...?Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Angst - Sable & Tom Nook - Chapters: 20 - Words: 60,621 - Reviews: 131 - Favs: 45 - Follows: 39 - Updated: 06-13-13 - Published: 01-30-12 - id: 7789430
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"I'll see you around, Sable!" Nitch sang as I left the cafe. Smiling widely, I waved goodbye in return, before turning away and walking away down the street. Nitch and the rest of the Downearth family were so nice. I couldn't wait to see them again. Most likely I would becom a regular at their cafe. Not to mention Nitch and I had planned several outings to go shopping or go to the library or just relax in her room above the cafe and complain about morning sickness and other stuff.
It was only half past nine. I didn't have to be back untill ten. I had plenty of time on my paws. I decided just to window shop and browse. I took the first side street I saw and found myself in another part of the city. It seemed more family orienteered- there were a few childrens' toy shops, some kids resturants, but also had other types of shops as well. There were a couple of women with children and their husbands, some with just the kids; but no pregnant women this time.
There was a red squirrel with blonde curls nearby rocking a pushchair back and forth, trying to calm a wailing kit. As I wandered by, I caught sight of the baby; it looked just like it's mother, save a curly mop of blue hair. It was clutching its tiny little fists and waved its arms and legs around, trying to get attention.
"Shush," The squirrel murmured to the screaming infant. "There, there hulaaa. Come on, there now. Shhh. Come on. You kept me up all last night. Get some sleep..."
The kit took no notice and continued crying.
A purple squirrel next to the other patted her friend on the shoulder.
"Poor you, Caroline!" She chirped brightly. "I'm so glad I don't have kids!"
"You're not helping, Peanut." Caroline sighed, rocking the pushchair back and forth, hoping to lull the infant. "Why'd you come anyway? I'm only shopping for Shelly's new clothes, since she was premature."
"I wanna help dress my favourite niece, slacker!" Peanut insisted.
"You're not her biological aunt," Caroline gently corrected her. The kit screamed even harder, and, obviously unable to to bear it any longer, Caroline unbuckled the baby and scooped her up in her arms.
"Stop that silly noise," She playfully scolded. "What's wrong, hulaa? Quiet, Shelly."
At this, Shelly ceased screaming and blurted out a number of random noises, waving her arms towards her mother's face.
"Aw, she just wanted attention, slacker!" Peanut cooed.
"I hope she doesn't do the same tonight," Caroline commented, winding a lock of the baby's hair around her finger. "Static's so lucky, hulaaa. He's such a heavy sleeper."
"I can't beleive you and him finally got together!" The purple squirrel nudged her friend, careful not to knock the baby. "Do you remember that time in high school when I was going out with him, slacker?"
"It's hilarious! How you and him ended up together. Not to mention getting married, slacker!"
"Yeah," Caroline breathed, holding out one arm and admiring a diamond ring on her finger. "Then we even had Shelly, hulaa." She took a deep breath after adjusting Shelly's weight in her arms. "Peanut, you're as good as an auntie Shelly will ever get."
"Thanks, Caroline! Slacker!"
I couldn't help but think Mabel would make a wonderful Auntie. She would love a baby to look after and care for...
Blinking away harsh tears, I walked quickly past them, only pausing to nod an acknowledgment towards them. I peered in a couple of shop windows, totally lost in baby mode. There were several baby shops that specialized in clothing and furniture, and I dithered helplessly in front of a cot with ebony bars and a cute little zodiac animal mobile hanging above, with tiny lights inside them so you could flip the switch and the small creatures would glow.
It was lovely, and came with its own little patchwork quilt, blanket, and pillow. It cost 10,378 Bells. It was lovely. I really, really liked it. But it just cost so much... There was a cheaper, oak cot next to it, with no mobile and a simple mattress. That only cost 3,798 Bells. There was no comparison.
But what was the point on getting furniture now? I might not stay at Redd's forever. In the next nine months I could move, and what would be the point hauling around unused furniture?
With a sigh, I made a mental note from where I should buy a crib from and carried on.
When I got a little further, there was a baby's clothing shop, and I couldn't help but be curious. I went inside to examine what they had on offer.
There were lots of parents in there, with a baby in a pushchair of being lugged around on a hip. There were the two wolves- Freya and Wolfgang- there too, giggling over a t-shirt that had a child looking drawing of a baby, which read 'Me', a picture of a mother, which read 'Mummy', and a father which read 'Ass Hole'. Freya pretended to march up to the counter and buy it, but Wolfgang caught hold of her in genuine horror, horrorfied if she actually would buy it.
I turned my back on them and had a look at the other clothing.
There were mainly the baby pinks and blues- girls or boys- and a couple of white garments- nothing special. I wondered what Tom would want his child to be. Girl or boy? Blue or pink? But he didn't care, he left us, and he didn't say a word about anything else.
I was seriously considering buying the 'ass hole' t shirt.
I wandered around and the same things stared back at me. Pink and blue. Pink and blue. Pink and blue. Pink and blue. Pink and blue. Oh, what's this? Blue and pink! A variation! Blue and pink. Blue and pink.
And so forth.
It was quite amusing watching couples buy pink things and then suddenly dither, crying out, "What if its a boy?"
But it also made my heart sink.
No matter how much I thought of Tom as an ass hole, I still loved him, and I couldn't change that fact. He rejected me, and our baby, but that longing for him was always inside of me. It wouldn't go away. I had given him my heart and he still had it; I couldn't reclaim it or give it to someone else. I hadn't loved anyone the way I had with him.
Sure he had taken my heart gladly, and I received his, even if he gave it a little reluctantly. But as time went one he wanted it back, but never gave me mine again.
Now I pressed my paw to my chest and felt every little heartbeat.
That night, two days after he had come back from the city, he came to say hi.
"T-Tom! When did you get back-?"
He had greeted me and we shared plesantries, but something was wrong.
We had been apart for too long. I didn't know how to love him anymore and he didn't with me either.
He had come back, late at night, two days after, late late at night, and asked for me to come with him. I had obliged. He took me to the beach and we watched the stars together and he pointed out the constellations he knew, and I taught him the ones Celeste had told me.
His paw bumped in to mine. I curled mine around his, automatically, and we were both silent.
"What're you doing, hm?"
But he squeezed back, and we gazed at the moon together.
"A wonderful sight, yes?"
It had then led on from that. We sat down and talked, catching up on all of the lost years between us. And then...
"I missed you, yes?"
Suddenly, he was kissing me, possibly the most riveting kiss of my life. His warm breath mingled with mine. He stroked my face gently, clasping my cheeks so I wouldn't turn away. Why would I? For a while I forgot the years we hadn't seen each other and melted in to his arms.
We were as one that night, nuzzling each other in the starlight. He took me to the cove, where he kept his boat, a large luxury yacht.
When he first bought it he had told me he was planning on taking me away on a cruise somewhere, maybe somewhere hot, and quiet, or maybe just explore the seas.
On that very deck, we first made love.
And that was when our baby was created.
With a shudder, I slapped my self on the forehead, clearing my mind of these thoughts. It made me feel dirty just thinking about it. But I could still remember the stars glinting off of the surface of the sea, the moonlight reflected in Tom's eyes, the calm whispering of the sea.
Only the sea knew what happened that night. Only the sea knew our little secret.
The days after that he had ignored me, and the few times I left the shop and saw him walking home, he would avert his eyes, and walk away quickly in the oposite direction. Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe he couldn't beleive what we had done.
Then suddenly, two weeks after, I was always tired, always sleepy. It was then the horror struck me- what if I was pregnant? What if, that night, we had...?
So I went to the doctor's clinic. I had taken a pregnancy test, and three days later, I went back and received the results.
I couldn't beleive it. I could remember quite clearly, gripping the paper in my paws, staring at the word 'POSITIVE' stamped in the 'RESULTS' box.
I remember the sick, shaky feeling that rose in my throat, and the weakness that attacked my knees. The feel of my stomach flipping; the feeling that there was a fetus inside of me.
I had thrown the paper across the room and a nurse came and sat beside me.
"Congratulations," she had said gently.
"I...I didn't know..."
"It's alright," The nurse soothed. She patted my back gently. "I'm sure you'll make a great mother. I'm very pleased for you."
"You have a husband, right? A pretty woman like you must be married. Go and tell him! He can only say no."
And that was exactly what he had said. In a way. Maybe a little bit more... gentle. It was his way of rejecting us. But it didn't change the fact it was cruel; sharp and cruel. How could he not want the creature we created? How could he just...toss me away like I was nothing?
I felt the tears coming on again, and I gripped my paws tightly.
Don't you dare cry. Don't. You. Dare.
My paws closed around something.
Surprised, I looked up and saw I had plucked a small soft toy off of the shelf and was clutching it tightly. Slowly, I uncovered the object to reveal a soft red raccoon in my paws. I couldn't help but chuckle at the coincidence. The soft toy's bead black eyes stared back at me, reflecting the light the way Tom's had that night. Suddenly the laugh in my throat died and the smile on my face drooped. I hugged the stuffed animal tightly to my chest and snuffled into it's faux fur. It smelt of carpet and shops and fresh stuffing. It wasn't quite Tom, but it would do. I scoured the shelves untill I discovered a little purple hedgehog, eerily like me. I looked at the two soft toys, simpering smiles and glass eyes staring back, before shuffling over to the counter and purchasing them both for 200 Bells each.
I placed the two stuffed creatures in my bag, before leaving the shop, feeling a little better. Somehow it was comforting knowing I had two little replicas of us. The couple snuggled against my hip through the bag's matireal.
I went back to fantasizing about our baby.
Would they have Tom's blue eyes? My royal purple fur? Tom's cute little habit of saying 'yes?' or 'hm?'? I giggled at the thought of a baby squeaking; "Hm?" as a first word.
This voice made me jump a little. I whirled around to see two men standing behind me; a white tiger and a blue squirrel. It was the blue squirrel who spoke, shaking his head sadly, reading a newspaper.
"So, so sad." He repeated. The white tiger grunted.
"This, krzzt." The squirrel answered, handing him the paper, folding over the front page for him to read. The tiger's eyes flickered over the page as he skimmed through the text. Eventually, he sighed and shook his head.
"Yeah," he mumbled gruffly. "I see what you mean, grrrolf. Heart-wrenching," His tone was hinted with sarcasm.
"See, I couldn't imagine Caroline running away when she told me she was pregnant," The squirrel began, his eyes growing dreamy. "Let alone me rejecting her, krzzt..."
My heart began thumping. What was in that article?
"You sure have gotten soft since you got hitched, grrrolf." The tiger chuckled and punched the squirrel on the shoulder. "Wassa matter with you, Static?"
Static shrugged, a smile playing on his lips.
"Guess its love, krzzt." He answered simply. "It changed me. And Caroline. She's a heck of a lot more responsable lately. Maybe because of Shelly being born but what the hell, krzzt." He wore his dreamy expression again. The tiger groaned softly before Static continued.
"Anyway, I feel sorry for 'em. Them both."
"I guess..." The tiger added. He checked his watch on his wrist before beckoning to his friend. "We need to go now, we said we'd meet the girls at the square around now for a drink, grrrolf," He grunted. He paused, before adding, "Caroline'll be waiting."
Static laughed, dropping his paper on the floor and giving it a half-hearted kick.
"You think you can tempt me by bringing Caroline in to everything, krrzt?" He asked. "Well, what the hell. Gotta go see my daughter too."
"See what I mean?" Tiger gave a wry smile. "Bring your daughter or wife in to anything, grrrolf, and you'll do whatever I say."
The two wandered away, still teasing each other mercilessly. I dashed forwards and snatched up the paper, eyes scanning over the page.
They widened as soon as I saw the picture.
My face looked back at me.
MY face. MINE. My snout, my freckles, my eyes, my spines...
It was ME.
A photo that Mabel had taken years and years ago, of me and Tom in his back yard- we were sitting on his swing and were holding hands. There was a book on my lap, and Tom was amusing himself by nuzzling in to my ear. I was wearing a loose white, knee length summer dress trimmed with a few pink ribbons. Tom had changed from his work apron to a pair of loose beige shorts and a white shirt. He was laughing and I was smiling at the camera, flipping a page as I did so. It had been such a wonderful day; the sun shining, the birds singing, the few fluffy white clouds drifting by. Mabel had run around with her camera, snapping pictures of this and that. She had cried out,
"Sable, Tom! Smiiiii-llle!"
"Not now, Mabel." I had replied, smiling gently.
"Let her, hm?" Tom had encouraged. He wrapped his arms around my waist and let his lips graze my cheek softly.
Now I trembled, blushing a little, knowing that the entire city- maybe the nation- had seen me and Tom together. We were always discreet. Now everyone had seen us, kissing in the garden.
I let my eyes wander over the text and began to read.
Wenton- a small town, humble, simple, your typical, quaint town. You wouldn't guess that a story of grand romance, passion and tradegy was happening behind the scenes of this little place. Tom Nook- a well renowned buisness man- and a the small-town seamstress, Sable Able, turned out to be a pair- and when Sable discovered she was pregnant; she's gone. The purple spined porcupine disappeared the morning after she told her sister she was carrying a child. Where is she now? Did she run away, or has she been kidnapped? I managed to get an exclusive interview with her sister; Mabel Able, to find out more.
I enter her small shop with a slight wrinkle to the nose; it's a very plain, drab place. There are a line of hand sewn simple clothes at the back of the shop, alongside a couple of cheaply made accsserories.
Mabel invites me in to the back room which doubles as a kitchen, and makes me a cup of tea before I ask some questions. I ask her about Sable and Nook's releationship, how they met and their past together.
"They met at high school," she begins, looking thoughtful. "Sable used to go every other day when I was five- I always had someone to babysit me. At first they were friends I guess. Just friends. Acquaintances. I-I guess things just took off from there."
This time I ask about recent years.
"Tom left a while ago for the city," Mabel replies hesitantly. "Six years back. Sable missed him like crazy. At first she would barely talk, barely work. She would just sit at the window, sighing every so often. She missed him. Then after a while, she got better... And soon she could smile again. But then- two weeks? No, three weeks ago, Tom came back. It turned out that his buisness didn't go as well as planned. He came back and set up shop again here in Wenton. I guess we expected them for a wild reunion, all romantic, you know? But it wasn't. They had been apart for six whole years. So... Yeah."
I inquire about what had happened when Sable discovered she was pregnant. Mabel blushes bright red.
"I-I-I don't know," She stammers. "S-she didn't tell me 'till recently s-so..."
This time I ask about Nook's reaction. Mabel shrugs helplessly.
"All I know is that he rejected the idea of Sable having a baby," She admits. "That's all I know."
"Any idea why she ran away?"
Mabel's eyes suddenly grow misty and tears gather.
"I-I don't." She whispers. A tear slips down her cheek. "OK, I think you know enough now. Can you just help me find her?"
Tom Nook denied an interview, claiming to be 'busy'.
The article went on and on. My eyes flickered over the page as every secret Tom and I had kept and more- lies- plastered the paper. It even described me as a whore, that we must've slept with each other hundreds of times, and it was no wonder I was now pregnant. And, with the shame of it all, I had escaped my life in Wenton to start a fresh.
I dropped the newspaper in shock. How could they tell such filthy lies? Why did Tom- and even Mabel- let them?
This time I couldn't hold my tears in. I pressed my paw to my mouth and gnawed on my knuckle as they slid down my snout, one after another. How could they've found out so much?
Our secrets were public. I couldn't go anywhere now without people pointing and staring, whispering that I was the missing seamstress.
I crumpled to my knees, pressed my cloak to my eyes and wept. My life...when did it get so complicated? Just because we had done...you know. Just because...our baby had been created.
"It wasn't suposed to be this way," I whispered. I dropped the cloak away from my face. "Tom and I were supposed to..."
I shook my head fiercly. My own, personal dreams, had always been the same, ever since I was a little girl, I dreamt I would get married and have children. Later, I changed the wanting to get married to wanting get to know Tom, buy a house with him, move in with him, and then have him propose to me. Then him and I would get married, and THEN I'd get pregnant and we'd have a family.
Fate has a weird way of working, doesn't it?
My fairytale, perfect fantasy had changed drastically into a stark modern drama. Instead, Tom had left, come back, I got pregnant, and he disowned me. Now I was making dresses for Crazy Redd in the city where I had my face over every paper.
Sniffing, I wiped my eyes, and scrambled to my feet. Now I was so...empty. That was how I felt. The most important person in my life had pushed me away. Tom. Oh God, but why did I love him so much?
I checked my watch. It was ten to eleven. Redd would be opening soon- I said I would be back within the hour. With a heavy heart, I shuffled reluctantly back to the shop.
"Have you seen this?" I exploded as I opened the front door of the shop and banged it shut behind me. I had cooled off considerably but now I was angry. I slammed the paper I had brought from earlier on the table. Redd trotted over to see what I was so mad about, and peered over my shoulder.
He was silent.
"Hey..." I began, turning around to face the fox. "You were reading the paper this morning...you deliberatly hid the front cover from me!" I said accusingly. Redd regarded me sheepishly.
"Well..." he began in a small voice. "I...I guess I didn't want you to know...it says some CRAAZZY awful things..."
"I know! I've read it!"
"It's just..." Redd shifted from one foot to the other uncomfartably. "You know..."
Looking at his hunched, embarrassed stance, I felt my anger drain away and sank into a chair and buried my face in my paws. I could feel the tears coming.
"Sorry," I mumbled through my paws. "It's not your fault that that's in the paper. It's because..." I let the dampness seep inbetween my fingers as the beads of salty liquid gathered. "...Because...I'm so scared..." I whimpered. "I can't go anywhere now. Not now everyone's seen the story. Everyone'll whisper and point, and I..." A lump worked its way up my throat, cutting me off.
Suddenly, a warm arm slid around my shoulders and patted me on the shoulder. Sniffing, I looked up with my tear streaked face. Redd had his arm around me and was attempting to comfort me. Granted, his arm was a little stiff, and his face was twitching at little at the contact, but it was a friendly gesture, and I smiled as best as I could at him with moisture in my eyes.
"I'm sorry." I whispered, smiling my watery smile. "All I do is cry...I'm so useless..."
"No, that's not true." Redd clarified, giving me a half-smile in return, one corner of his mouth lifting in a sort of half-hearted grin. "You sew CRAAZZY good clothes! Want to see the display?"
I nodded, after wiping my eyes and standing up. Redd steered me towards the shop and; right next to the stairs, there were three dummies sporting the three dresses I had made. The pink one was accsessorised with a similar coloured clasp-purse, which was being clutched by the mannequin's white, plaster fingers. The blue one's model was posing confidently, one hand on its hip, the other thrown up, grazing the ceiling with a white finger. There was a pair of wedged sandals slipped on to the pointed, plastic feet. The gingham striped dress was wrapped around the third model, who was sporting a pair of dark pilot shades, and a huge straw sunhat. There was scattering of sand beneath the mannequin, suggesting it was a beach dress, and a large beach bag hung over its wrist. I clapped my paws together in delight and let my eyes wander over to a newly-put up shelf, where the shirts and hat was.
"Oh Redd; they look wonderful!" I squeaked. "Thank you so much!"
"No, Miss Sable." Redd put a paw on my shoulder while he said this. I peered at him. "No, Miss Sable, thank you. Thank YOU. For making 'em They look...well, CRAAZZY! In a good way,"
I gave a small grin. He WAS a nice person, despite his over reactive, unnerving exterior; deep down he cared. Even though he conned people and lied, his heart of gold truly shone beneath the layers of lies and dishonesty that had accumalated over the years. Yes; now that I really thought about, beneath it all, he was a good person- it was just that he had to lie, he had to deceive; else his little shop wouldn't do well at all. If he simply ran a little store without pretending that his paintings were the genuines and his furniture top rate, he'd go out of buisness and run out of money.
Slowly, I was beginning to understand Redd.
"That's nice to know..." I murmured appreciatly. "Thank you Redd..." Redd gave an offhand grin and shrugged a little bit. He was obviously embarrassed by my comment. I watched as his fists curled and uncurled slowly- I simply disregarded it as a habit of his.
"Oh..." he suddenly glanced at his watch. "We'll be opening any minute now," He looked up and smiled at me aplogeticly. "Sorry to cut you off, but..."
I shrugged a little casually, taking my cloak off in the process.
"I don't mind." I smiled. "What kind of clothes do you want for your shop next?"
Redd thought for a moment, before clicking his fingers in a moment of inspiration.
"Something sexy," he accented this by waving his paws around as a gesture. "dangerous. Something that the young ones'll love! Ya get what I'm saying?"
Slowly I nodded, letting the initial shock wear down. Sexy! Dangerous!
He might as well ask a cow to produce wool instead of milk! I was too simple for such...modern...things. Imagine me making tight, clingy dresses! Mine currently were classy, and stylish, too, but I already felt that my creative abilties and seamstress skills were snapping at their seams. Even the ones I had created, the ones currently on display, were a challenge to make- I was so used to the clothes I made in Wenton- the same pattern, over and over, with different designs on the fabric.
Still, nothing was stopping me yet, and I needed to prove myself to myself. Another step to learning how to make my own way in life. So as I sat down at my table, retreived my sketchbook, and sharpened my pencil, no worry or doubt clouded my thoughts. I simply wiped my mind of everything- which was pretty hard to do- and let the design take shape slowly.
I started with the top of the outfit. After sketching the model's shoulders, I made a very light outline of the top of my usual pattern, my pencil barely grazing the paper. Then, I made the top tighter, ciniched in, and erased the sleeves, making it strapless. After a moments thought, I added very thin, very delicate loops over the shoulders. They looked far too flimsy to support the rest of the dress, so I added another on either side. And another. And another.
Instead, I grabbed my rubber and erased the straps, then redrew them in a complicated threaded pattern. I was good at braiding. It looked good. A bit tacky, but good.
Next I moved onto the skirt. Insctively, I began to draw a full, blossoming skirt, like the one of a ballroom gown. I quickly stopped though. Ballroom dresses! I could literally hear readers screaming at me that that was a couture design, not sexy, daaaaarrrling!
I quickly rubbed out the outline of the full skirt and replaced it with a much smaller one, so short that you wouldn't be able to bend down in it without public humiliation. It was tight, too, hugging the figure's body on the page- a bit too tight, if you asked me. Then again, this wasn't for me, it was for young, dangerous girls who spent half the night out partying.
I added an elasticated waist, so it could be even more clingy, and a chest piece with a little padding sewn in to enhance the wearers' bosom. After a few more tweaks here and there, I reached under my table to retrieve my box of fabrics. I examined each one, shifting the contents into piles: 'what maybe to use' and 'what not to use'. I dismissed a baby blue piece of cloth, a solid green roll of linen and a sheet of floral print as unsuitable. Russet red, bright orange, and cherry blossom pink were also abandoned- they weren't...right for what I was doing.
Perhaps a proud, cold white...
As soon as I withdrew the length of white silk, I knew it was right.
There was loads of it, at least four metres of it. With a smile, I drew out a pattern for the dress in light pencil, since you wouldn't be able to see chalk. Then I measured some elastic to fit around the dress' waist, and after that, made several bands to be the straps.
This proved to be difficult, and took a lot longer than first anticipated- I had to cut the strips, then fold them in half and sew that together so they wouldn't fray. Eventually I had enough to start, and began to braid them, and once that was done, tie the ends up and sew the strips together so they wouldn't unwind.
After a couple of hours, I had finished the dress, and admittedly, it was far too tacky for my taste. I had found a string of sequins and hemmed the bottom of the dress with them.
I slipped it on and stared at the woman in the mirror before me.
As soon as it was on, it was off.
I hated it.
I really hated it. I looked like an idot.
Admittedly, I wasn't a model, I wasn't attractive; and I wasn't a very good clotheshorse, but somehow...I knew this was a failure. Even if it were on the right person, something in the back of my head was telling me that it was bad. After a day of success yesterday, I had gone into this test overly-confident, and failed.
"Pride comes before a fall," I could remember my father saying this when I successfully managed to make my first few items of clothing- not fit for selling, but clothes, nevertheless. I had been so pleased, and was feeling more confident than ever to get onto the sewing machine the next day. I attempted to make something way beyond my capabilities and ended up with a seriously ingured thumb where the machine had caught it.
I tossed the stupid thing in a corner and went back over to my desk, where I seized the original design and ripped it in two, before scrunching it into a ball and throwing it into the waste paper basket.
I was crushed. I knew that it was mistake to try and make something 'sexy' or 'dangerous' from the very beginning; except my successes from yesterday had clouded my brain with positives and made me forget that things do go wrong, that things won't always right. It didn't help Redd was always praising me over the clothes I had made. Maybe that praise had gone straight to my head. I didn't get many nice comments back at Wenton. It was the first time I had really ever received a compliment when Redd examined the dress that that cat, Rosie, bought.
What would he think? He trusted me, and liked my designs.
I should get his opinion.
I retreived the white dress, pitifullly creased now, hurriedly smoothed it out a little, and pattered downstairs.
I peeked round the scrap of fabric referred to as a 'curtain' concealing the stairs just to see if the dresses had sold yet, and- yes! The pink one was gone! So was the hat I had made! I breathed out a smile, before brushing the curtain aside to see Redd waiting expectantly for customers in the centre of the room. Mabel did something similar, so I disregarded it casually.
"Redd?" I said. He jumped a little and whirled around- before smiling when he saw it was me. I continued. "I finished the dress, only I don't think its very good, so I decided to see what you thought, just in case..." The last part was spoken in a sort of burst, so my words came out garbled and undistinguistible.
"You've finished?" Redd's eyebrows shot up. "That was quick! CRAAZZY quick! Let's see it, then,"
"Like I said, I don't think its very good, so I can start again if you like..."
I was interupperuted by the clang of a bell as the door opened, and before Redd could take in the dress completely I folded it over my arm and smiled widely- if a bit earnestly. "Oh well, I'll show you late...er..."
I was interuppted again, only for very different reasons.
This time I interuppted myself.
Because the person who had opened the door to the shop...
It was Tom.