The Shoemaker's Daughter by Iris Gower

said at once, ‘I gave the sheets to Emily Grenfell herself, I know she’ll see that your name is cleared.’
    ‘Then what’s wrong?’ he said and she looked at him in surprise. He was very perceptive.
    ‘I seem to have lost myself a customer.’ Hari sank back in her chair. ‘Took a dislike to me, she did.’
    ‘Emily has a quick temper,’ Craig said, ‘but she’s fair minded and she’ll reconsider the situation, I’m sure.’
    Hari said nothing, it was natural that he would take the part of Emily who was not only his cousin but was his promised bride. But Craig was wrong, to employ Hari as her shoemaker was something Emily would never reconsider.
    There was a knock on the door and Craig tensed, his big hands clenching into fists.
    ‘It’s all right,’ Hari said quickly, ‘it’s most likely the rent man, he comes today.’ She smiled, ‘Don’t forget now, you’re my cousin from Neath come to help with the business, you’re big like my dad, could easily be his nephew and so long as you don’t open your mouth, it should be all right.’
    Hari took the money out of the old cracked teapot she kept on the shelf, she had just enough for the rent and she smiled in relief. It was a good thing that Edward Morris had given her another order which he had insisted on paying for in advance.
    Hari knew it was mostly done to help Craig and yet Edward Morris seemed to like her work a great deal. She hoped she would keep his custom once all this drama was over.
    She opened the door and handed the money over and Mr Fisher wrote something in his book.
    ‘Got a visitor have you then, Angharad?’ The man looked at her carefully as she nodded.
    ‘News spreads fast, I suppose Dai the Cop is gossiping like an old woman again.’ She asked quickly, ‘Well, if it’s anybody else’s business I got my cousin staying here, nothing wrong in that is there, Mr Fisher?’
    He closed his book with a snap and looked past Hari to where Craig was bending over the fire. His face was still covered in coal dust and he looked anything but a gent. Hari suppressed a smile.
    ‘No course not, Angharad, glad you got a bit of help, mind. You got enough to do with the business and looking after your mam and all.’
    Hari breathed more easily, for a moment she wondered if the rent man suspected the truth about her visitor.
    ‘ Duw ,’ she said, ‘don’t you worry about that, now, my mam is no trouble, it’s just her legs are bad just now and that cough of hers is troublesome but she bears up well, mind.’
    ‘Give her my regards,’ Mr Fisher turned away, ‘see you next week Angharad.’
    ‘Righto, Mr Fisher, I’ll be here and if I’m not in the kitchen take the money from the old teapot.’
    She closed the door and turned to see Craig leaning against the fireplace, his eyes shining through the coal dust.
    ‘Well done, Hari,’ he said, ‘I think he believes that your honour is safe with your dullard cousin from Neath.’
    Hari felt the colour rise to her cheeks. ‘It’s not funny, mind!’ she said sharply. ‘It’s just as well that mam’s here with us, isn’t it, or I’d have no honour, at least not in the eyes of the people around World’s End.’
    ‘Would that matter?’ Craig said. ‘I didn’t think you were the sort to care about other people’s opinions.’
    He was so innocent of the ways of the world that Hari just shook her head in amazement.
    ‘Don’t you realize I’d be a target for all the men living in World’s End who are just looking for a loose woman to amuse themselves with?’ She shrugged. ‘My chances of making an honest marriage or even of keeping up my business would be less than dust without the good will of my neighbours. What do you think keeps the petty thieves and the people who run a bawdy house away from my door?’
    ‘I see.’ The smile had gone from Craig’s eyes, ‘I’m sorry, I suppose I didn’t stop to think.’
    Hari shrugged. ‘You don’t know how we people of World’s