One Sunday, while looking around the Air Street market, looking wistfully at all the interesting stalls selling antiques and collectables, Darcy had an idea. If she could raise a little money, she could run a small stall like these and start building an income for herself. She loved working at the cafe but it was just for room and board. Darcy needed money to replace her scruffy sandals and some decent clothes wouldn’t go amiss either. 

Our fledgling’s mind begins to race

As, lost in thought, her ideas grow

Her feet direct her to the beach

As though there’s something she should know

Gazing up at West Pier’s splendour

Insight bears a new agenda 

Making her way back up the beach, Darcy went to the Pier’s grand entrance.  The elegant wrought iron gates stood open and the Pier-Master stood like a sentry. 

She waited until he was busy with some visitors, then took a brochure from his stand and slipped round the other side of his little office, where he wouldn’t be able to see her and began to read. 

After a while she was ready. She chose a seat outside the Grand Theatre, against the most decadent and ornate part of the railing and began her mission. 

Brightest smile and friendly chat

And talk of Pier’s historic tale

One hundred years of Pomp and grandeur

Told as Grandma’s own regale

Listeners raptly gathered round

To hear her tell her tales abound
 

And one by one they tossed their coins

To hat, she’d placed in open stance

Just prior to the stories end

In hope that they’d bequeath advance

Copper, silver, mounded fast

‘Til audience dispersed at last
 

Finally Darcy was discovered by the Pier-Master and asked to leave but it didn’t matter. The visitors to the pier had been generous.  Giving the Pier’s graceful form one last glance, Darcy hurried back into town. She had something important to do.