6

 

6

Gladys and Glynnis, could not be more different in appearance. Gladys had a penchant for colorful dresses, usually the softer pastel shades and a decided thing for lemon yellow, while Glynnis could only be described as austere with her two-piece outfits and sensible shoes. It was as if one was clinging to a long-ago war and the other determined to live in eternal spring. Their choice of frames for their glasses is what tied them together as team. Horn rimmed with top corners which at times appeared to support their generous hairstyles, corners pointed upward in a cat ear fashion, for Gladys with pearls and for Glynis an intricate crust of clear stones, which rumor has it, were the diamonds she had smuggled out of a war office and into town. She had either forgotten about them or was as good at keeping a poker face as certain tongues were at wagging.

Gladys and Glynnis were sisters-in-law, married at one time to brothers Henry and Jacob. Fate had decided to take Jacob first, leaving his wife to live with her brother and sister in-law, some time, though not many years later the same fate befell Henry, and the women were left alone, but for each other.

Each had been left enough to keep them comfortably for life, but both Gladys and Glynnis agreed that they needed something smaller to live in and something to do with their time. Soon they had settled in town and on an outing one morning decided that they would make it their life’s ambition to bring a little elegance to the women in town. If not, then at least a little color thought Gladys.

They had named their shop Antoinette’s in honor of an infamous French woman and had filled it with ready made clothing for most occasions and a selection of fabric from which to fashion garments. Business grew steadily, and while they would never become either rich or famous, the ladies of Antoinette’s were at once respected and feared, especially by those who simply had no taste. Glady and Glynnis were always reassuring, and offered guidance to many a young woman, often as much on the social front as on the choice of dress.

Times were not easy and upon starting their business the women had agreed on a strategy that would not impoverish them or their clients and as they had opened and slowly gained confidence in themselves, so too had the women in town. Antoinette’s had become a bit of an anchor.

Situated neatly in the middle of the main road their window was wide and attractive enough to draw an occasional shopper, and it was also wide enough for them to see if anybody was heading their way, letting the bell over door announce their entrance. It was that very bell that tinkled now. Glynnis looked up to see May Viljoen and her daughter, the one that worked at the coffee shop down the road. The one, that could use a make-over. “The girl and the coffee shop,” sniggered Gladys to herself, though not with any malice, her humor was much like her outfits.

“Good morning, Glynnis,” said May Viljoen, catching herself in an involuntary curtsey, “Good morning, Gladys.” Girly smiled and nodded at them, her throat dry. Leaving town, if only for a few days had presented her with enough anxiety, and her new friends, the Sampson twins, though excited, had filled her head with more than she could process. Secretly Girly had always liked the ladies of Antoinette’s. They were stylish, different from most people in town, were confident and held just enough mystery to keep them interesting. What Girly liked most was that everyone was an equal, these women did not look down at anyone, not from behind those glasses.

“May, Girly May,’ Glynnis responded, coming to stand before them. She had heard that the younger May had finished school, so it was probably her that needed the attention. May herself was a neatly put together woman but held no excitement in her dress or demeanor. Life had not ground her down, but living where she did, it hardly elevated matters.

“Girly needs an outfit that she can wear in the city, she will visit a college for the morning. I want it to be suitable but also something that she can wear for other things, work for example. Not at the coffee shop, but you never know. If she does well on her exam it might encourage her to keep studying.” May felt like she had shared too much, she felt as if she had opened the door to many questions.

Gladys had come from behind her counter and was listening. “Though I love a dress, they can be limiting. How do you feel about a few loose pieces, a blouse or two and a skirt that you can mix and match?” she winked at Girly, “It shouldn’t only be about the moment at hand. Prospects, something is always just waiting to present itself, isn’t it dear? And we must be ready.”

Girly smiled at Gladys, marveling at how her appearance was at odds with her serious mind. Girly stole a leaf from the book of Gladys, it would come in handy later.

Girly and her mom decided on two outfits that she would take with on their trip. Something to wear on excursions with her aunt and something less frivolous for the exam. Girly had saved enough of her earnings to buy herself a scarf, some shoes that were not her black Sunday best and a piece of fabric that she and her mother would use to make another blouse. She had enough left to take with on their trip.

Thanking both Girly and May as they left the shop, Glynnis and Gladys looked at each other and smiled. “Let’s hope we have that one on the right path,” said Gladys, “She is sure to turn some heads.”

“She sure will,” agreed Glynnis, “I do hope her mother will have a talk with her. You know, about escaping and about being trapped. More to the point, how she could get trapped, I’ve seen that new boy ogling her when she passes. I wish he would find something to do other than warm the bench outside Lenny’s place. He, my dear, is a trap waiting to spring.” They laughed quietly. At once humored and contrite.

Girly was full of excitement as she and her mother made their way home with the packages. She loved the fabric and could her mother cut it so that there was some spar to make a hairband. Girly had taken to wearing her hair loose, held back with a hairband, pigtails were for little girls. Wisdom from the Sampson sisters. Other than the need for shiny lips, this was probably the best thing they had taught her. Truthfully, Girly had been rather disappointed, all they could talk about was boys. Boys they knew and hoped to see again, boys they had seen in town and wanted to meet, Girly felt pressured to help them in their social endeavors. She had hoped they would find something to do. They were too old for the local school and didn’t seem interested in working anywhere. Maybe finding a boy and keeping him was what they had chosen to do.

Girly shook her head, she had enough on her plate. Doris had given her the afternoon off to go shopping with her mother, and she needed to go over her work so that if there was anything she did not understand or that her parents couldn’t explain she could make use of the opportunity at the exam venue to have her questions answered.

She had however promised the Sampson girls that she would pay them a visit in the evening, and they could tell her about what they thought lay in store for her. They had lived in various places after all. 

But first, some revision.

 

You may wonder to yourself why a young girl has to end her schooling at such a young age, why she may need to become independent, or indeed why she may be in training to become dependent. Similarly, the prospects in town clinging for life are few. Opportunities to earn an income are too often just that. There are no prospects and no desire, the only motivation is a meal and a roof. To foist this on one so young may seem criminal, but it is in these young ones that the world has a future. The lure of the big city, whatever period, is strong, and Girly on her mini adventure is not the only one to be drawn by it.  No amount of schooling and discussion can prepare you for what life holds. It can however make you aware of what it offers and what the consequences are. Glynnis turned away from the window as the Viljoen women disappeared from view, admonishing herself for living vicariously.