Gradually, throughout the day, Darcy’s stall saw people come, and by the end, most of her items were sold. Her pocket was heavy with change. She counted it out and gave the ice cream man his cut. He told her she could come back the following week. Her new venture was well under way...

Part 34

Now Darcy had a new problem. Her little stall had taken off far more quickly than she had anticipated and the little box of bits she had left would not be enough to see her through another market day. She needed some new market stock, and fast, but the jumble sales were only on at weekends and she needed to be at the market place then.

Rifling through her worldly goods

To see what could increase supplies

Two books, a bracelet and a belt

Her routine, she must now revise

Market place from eight ‘til noon

Then thrift sales in the afternoon

Darcy looked at the meagre offerings laid out on her trusty Red-Cross blanket and sighed. It was still nowhere near enough. She went down to the kitchen to see if she could pick someone’s brains.

Rosalyn was there, cooking for the following day’s menu, and Hugh was making tea. He signalled her to get herself a cup. He wasn’t one for talking if he could avoid it. Darcy washed her hands, took some of the pastry Rosalyn was rolling and started lining oven trays while she outlined her dilemma.

Problems shared are problems halved

And work with hands can calm the mind

But though her ruffled feathers smoothed

No firm solutions could she find

A new source must be found and tried

But clearly time’s not on her side

As Darcy went up to bed that night, she found a small china doll outside her door with a note attached, inviting her to meet outside the cafe at ten the next morning. It was unsigned, as usual. She looked up and down the stairs but no one was there. She smiled to herself, sure her mystery was about to be revealed.

A restless night of angst and hope

Thrilled at promised rendezvous

But anxious that she’ll lose her pitch

Before she’d chance to see it through

Sleepless, thoughts are mixed and torn

As night time’s shroud turns into dawn

Not bothering with breakfast, Darcy showered and sorted out her most presentable clothes. She hadn’t much to choose from. Her homeless days had meant that her belongings were kept sparse ...and there was nothing she could do about her shoes. They would just have to do, with a bit of a clean.