Tamar by Deborah Challinor Page B

— I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t catch your name.’
    ‘Montgomery,’ he replied. ‘Peter Montgomery.’
    ‘If Mrs Montgomery wants something really pretty, that’s what I’d recommend.’
    ‘Well, whatever you think best. Can you have it made up? I’m coming back into town next week and I’ll pick it up then. The baby is not due for another two weeks or so, so I expect there will be plenty of time.’ Peter Montgomery favoured Tamar with another of his devastating smiles. ‘Do you have children of your own, Mrs …’
    ‘Miss,’ replied Tamar. ‘Miss Deane. No, I am not married, Mr Montgomery.’
    ‘Well, you should be, Miss Deane. Someone is going to be a very lucky man.’
    Tamar blushed. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly, not daring to look at his face, then realised she would have to. ‘Brussels lace is rather expensive, Mr Montgomery. Would you like a quote?’
    ‘No, whatever it costs is acceptable,’ he replied expansively, producing a card and placing it on the counter. ‘These are my details. I’m sure you’ll do a lovely job. Next week, then? Probably Thursday, I expect. Until then, Miss Deane,’ he said. He returned his hat to his head and left the shop as Tamar stared after him.

     
    Tamar went to supper at Myrna’s the following Sunday and had a thoroughly enjoyable evening catching up with her friends, although she was aghast at Polly’s physical condition.
    ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Polly countered. ‘You should have seen me a week ago. I’ve put on pounds!’
    ‘What’s happened to your voice?’ Tamar asked, incredulous.
    ‘My voice? Oh, this is my posh accent. I’m a lady now,’ replied Polly, giggling.
    Coincidentally and, he insisted, completely on the spur of the moment, John Adams also called in and stayed for a brandy. He and Tamar chatted for some time. John could not stop talking about the operation he had performed on the little girl with the harelip. He was extremely pleased with the result, although it would be some time before the swelling went down and the final effect would be obvious.
    ‘It will be marvellous, if it works as well as I think it should. Before, her upper gum and teeth were exposed up to her nostrils and she really did look odd. She was teased by the other children to the point where she wouldn’t go outside. Now, she’ll look fairly normal and if it heals well, the scar may not even be very noticeable in a few years. And it will heal well, if her parents take the appropriate care. She needs complete rest and to keep her face immobile while the wound mends. After that, she should be fine. Some decent food wouldn’t go amiss either, but I’ve taken care of that.’
    Typical John, thought Myrna. He won’t make a penny out of this, which was one of the reasons she was so fond of him. At the end of the evening John offered to take Tamar back to her lodgings in his new phaeton, and was thrilled when she accepted.
    ‘Do you think they’ll get together?’ Bronwyn asked Myrna after the couple had been farewelled.

    ‘No’ unless yon lassie gets her feet on the ground about love in the real world. But she’s no’ stupid. She’ll work it out one day.’
    All through the following week Tamar looked forward to Peter Montgomery’s return. The days seemed to crawl by. To her confusion and discomfort, whenever she recalled his smile, or the black hair on the back of his pale hands, she felt her cheeks flush and a ripple of excitement run through her. In a way she was appalled. The man’s wife was about to give birth to their first child, but she could not help what she was feeling.
    On the appointed day she waited eagerly all morning, feeling nervous and telling herself she was being silly. When he did not appear, she felt first a sour disappointment, then considerable annoyance with herself, doing her best to put him out of her mind.
    He came in two days later, just before closing time. ‘Mr Montgomery,’ she said as calmly as she could