Annie's Promise by Margaret Graham

properly and Gracie said, ‘You’ve done dungarees here, Tom? I thought elastic wouldn’t work?’
    Annie nodded. ‘By the autumn, we’ll have premises and enough cash to buy a button holer, but we can hold buying it until we see if there’s enough take-up on the design. Brenda said she’d do the button holes on the samples.’
    They discussed the extra homeworkers they would need once the orders built up, and they would, once their stock came pouring out into Manners’ outlets and their name became known nationally.
    They discussed Briggs’ warehouse. Bill the estate agent had told Annie they could relax, take their time because there was no interest at all, but soon they must think of planningpermission so that they were ready to convert when they centralised the business.
    It was then that Tom lifted his glass, looked over the top at them all. ‘I reckon that day’s not far away so I think there’s a toast in order, to Georgie, who brought this whole thing off, and to Wassingham Textiles. We’ve finally made it.’
    Annie drank, sitting back in the chair, looking at the children, the range where Sophie had baked, where she now baked. She ran her hand along the scrubbed wooden table and felt complete.
    On Monday Manners required yet more changes but Isaacs had often had the same problem and so Annie and Tom worked late into the night adjusting the designs yet again, interrupted only by a phone call from Don, asking them all to the convent’s Open Day in three weeks’ time. ‘Teresa’s playing the piano at two. Perhaps you could be there in good time, Annie. Hats will be required, and gloves.’
    ‘You will, of course, be wearing chiffon?’ she asked, then wished she hadn’t. ‘I’m sorry Don, just a little tired.’
    ‘Yes, I’d heard you’d landed a big one. Tell me more when I see you. Bye.’
    Tom looked up as she put the receiver down. ‘My what big ears he has,’ Annie said. ‘And my, how word gets around.’
    ‘What did he want?’
    ‘To tell us to be on parade in three weeks’ time for the Convent Open Day.’
    ‘Not bloody likely.’
    ‘Oh come on, Tom, we should go. Terry’s playing the piano and he’s trying to make amends. They gave us nice presents at Christmas and now this. He wants his family there, in hats and gloves.’ She was laughing now but Tom just groaned, then shook his head.
    ‘God in heaven, he’s such a pompous idiot. Come on, let’s get on with these.’
    Annie spent the next week training up Meg and Irene withBrenda who had to be paid a full salary, she explained to Georgie, because she was already doing a job, not just sitting waiting for Manners’ go ahead.
    ‘But what’s the hold-up?’ Georgie said, shovelling down his breakfast, throwing on his coat and stepping out into the cold morning air.
    ‘This is what’s called business, my love.’
    ‘Christ, it’s worse than waiting for the coal to creak and the roof to come down.’
    ‘Just call it the edge then, Georgie.’ She pulled him back, kissed him. ‘It will be all right, my darling. He’s just fussy, he wants exactly the right thing, we’ll have to go with it, it’s no problem.’
    She watched him leave, then hurried into the dining-room. She still had the regular orders to pack, the first of Tom’s samples to make up, the invoices to draw up, Gracie’s work to check, her own to complete and still a ruddy hat to buy.
    In the middle of March Manners finally approved the samples and increased his order to sixteen thousand. It would take up all their capital, plus a loan to increase the order with the supplier, Annie told Georgie, who nodded. ‘Just have to. I’ll fix it.’
    Annie alerted the suppliers, the homeworkers, Brenda.
    ‘We’ll be starting any moment,’ she said. ‘Just waiting delivery of the machines, the cloth and the trimmings.’
    But Tom phoned from his pit office at eleven a.m. as she was sewing the last of the aprons for Gosforn Market.
    ‘Annie, he wants exclusive