2. The day was hers – 1978
Maybe it was the way the light slipped in through the in-between bits of the curtains and tickled her eyes open.
Maybe it was because she turned over and switched the radio on and ‘Supernature’, the song she couldn’t stop dancing to, happened to be playing.
Or maybe it was because she was about to start her first job.
It could have been any or all of these things but from the moment she woke up, Ursula had this feeling the day was going to be special and straight away, she was out of bed and on her feet knowing that everything she did in the next twenty-four hours was going to be monumental.
Because some days you just know, don’t you?
Some days you can be absolutely sure that nothing whatsoever is going to go wrong.
That is, until your mum opens the door with a foul look on her face, and then the perfect bubble is well and truly burst.
‘Ursula, we do not all want to hear that bloody song every minute of the day.’ She meant herself really, since they were the only two people who lived in the flat, and Ursula most certainly did want to hear it every minute of the day.
‘It’s not my fault it’s on the radio.’ She held up her hands, her feet and hips still moving but her mum’s fingers were already on the dial, turning it down to a low hum.
‘Hurry up. You don’t want to be late on your first day. We can travel in together.’
Ursula was about to say no we can’t, thank you very much, but then she remembered the sacrifice that had been made to get her this three-month trial and realised how important it was to her mum that she didn’t mess it up.
A lot more important than it was to Ursula.
Not that she wasn’t grateful; she really wanted to work in fashion.
It’s just that she’d seen herself in a big fashion house in London, not in a crappy little shop, on a crappy little street in Birmingham.
Even the name, Ethel Street, sounded like somewhere her nan would go to buy a new girdle.
But none of that mattered now because she was still feeling like fantastic things were waiting to happen, so she wasn’t in the mood for hanging around.
Even if it meant travelling into town with her mum.
Anyway, the shop might not actually be that crap, if the name was anything to go by. Talulah.
The thing about Talulah that had swung it for Ursula was that they didn’t just sell brought-in fashion.
They made their own designs on the top floor of the shop.
According to her mum anyway. Ursula hadn’t been inside yet.
But this was why she’d spent ages deciding what she was going to wear today.
A pair of skin-tight trousers, a blouse with an oversized collar and a waistcoat, all of which she’d made herself.
They’d been picked to show off her sewing skills.
She desperately wanted to work on that top floor.
To her surprise, her mum didn’t offer an opinion on her outfit. Ursula wasn’t sure whether this was good or bad. But as she zipped up her knee-high boots, the opinion came: ‘Are you sure those boots are wise? You might be on your feet all day and it’s not actually cold.’
Ursula shrugged, trying not to look too pleased that the criticism had validated her choice. Her mum actually had great taste in clothes but no self-respecting nineteen-year-old wanted full-on approval from a parent. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘Please yourself. Come on. We should be able to make the eight o’clock if we get a move on.’
As they stepped off the train at Moor Street, the rush of people heading in to work pulled them towards the station’s exit.
After a lifetime at school and one miserable year at college, this was all new to Ursula and it was a bit of a thrill.
Also, ‘Supernature’ was still running in her head and she had to try really hard not to dance all the way along the platform.
Her mum walked with her along New Street, talking non-stop about the need to make a good impression.
At last, she turned off at Bennetts Hill, leaving Ursula alone to deal with the butterflies dive bombing her stomach.
It gave her the chance to stop and check herself in a shop window.
Annoyingly, her left boot was bunching at the ankle.
She pulled it up, smoothed down her waistcoat and trousers, and told herself these were the clothes that would get her noticed.
‘Today will be a day I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
’ She breathed in, closed her eyes and started counting.
If she could get to fifty without breathing out, it would be a sign that everything was going to be perfect.
The madness in her stomach was easing off but she gave herself a bonus ten for double insurance.
At sixty, she let her breath out and opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was a man staring at her from a few doors away.
He was wearing a dark grey suit, a shirt with pale blue stripes and a blue-grey tie.
His shoes were so polished, the sunlight was practically bouncing off them.
Ursula noticed all of these things because her dad had been dressed almost exactly the same the last time she saw him.
This man had short dark hair, also like her dad, but he was younger than her dad.
And good looking. Still too old to be staring at her though.
Thirty maybe? It was hard to tell because he looked so serious.
She was used to men looking at her. It was being tall.
It made her stand out. Also, she’d been told she was pretty.
She didn’t know about that, but she did get her fair share of men and boys staring, whistling, or shouting things after her.
Usually, she ignored them but today, because of that feeling that had been with her since she’d woken up and because her mind was still on a ‘Supernature’ setting, she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.
Instead of turning away in embarrassment, the man smiled and all of a sudden, he didn’t look like her dad anymore.
All of a sudden, she was the one that was embarrassed.
Ursula swung around and even though she was walking in the wrong direction, she headed back up New Street to go the long way round to the place of her new employment.
For the next three months at least. Providing she didn’t screw things up.
The butterflies were back by the time she walked into the shop.
It didn’t help that she nearly fell over her new boss, Cassandra Fry, who was kneeling by the door rubbing at something on the carpet.
Cassandra jumped to her feet and, in the space of a few seconds, looked Ursula over, paying special attention to her face.
Probably trying to work out which of her parents she looked like these days.
Ursula could have told her both, she had her mum’s colouring and her dad’s features.
But that would have made things awkward and things were already awkward enough.
‘Ursula! How long has it been?’
‘Ten years, I think.’
‘Ten years? No wonder you look so grown up.’ Cassandra fixed a smile on her face, the kind that looked like it really didn’t want to be there. There was every chance she’d forgotten Ursula was coming. Unless she’d changed her mind about giving her a job. There was definitely a chance of that.
‘Mum said she spoke to you about me working here.’
‘Yes. Yes she did. Sorry. It’s just that you look so…’ So much like him. Ursula silently filled in the gaps of what Cassandra was trying not to say. ‘Anyway, welcome. Gill did explain it’s a trial period, yes?’
‘Yes. Three months.’
‘Exactly. Look, I have an important client due anytime now so Andi’s going to show you around. Go through to the back and you’ll find her upstairs. Where did you get your outfit from?’
‘I made it myself. Except for the boots, obviously. Is it okay?’
She walked around her, scrutinising every stitch. ‘Not bad. Gill said you were good.’
Ursula nodded, all the time thinking about how much it must have taken for her mum to come in here and ask for this woman’s help. ‘What should I call you, by the way?’
‘Hmm?’ She fiddled with the buttonholes on the waistcoat. ‘Oh, Cass or Cassie. Never Cassandra.’ She pulled a silly face and Ursula remembered how Cass used to make her laugh with those faces when she was little, before things went wrong. Before Cass chose a side.
The important client arrived and Cass’s attention was drawn away.
Ursula found the stairs and went up to the next floor.
The first door she opened revealed a kitchen.
Next to it was a small room with two green-velvet armchairs and a curtained-off area.
She’d passed the changing room downstairs, so she guessed it was a fitting room for clients like the one Cass was talking to now.
On the other side of the landing was a toilet, and another room filled with racks of clothes.
That left only one at the end, making it at the front of the building.
The door was slightly ajar. Ursula pushed it fully open and walked into a big light-filled room.
In the centre was a long, high table. Laid out on it were pieces of material cut into shapes.
Workbenches with sewing machines faced the two side walls.
Above them were shelves, some stacked high with rolls of material and others with labelled boxes.
One of those boxes had been left open on the table.
Inside it were rows of cotton reels in different shades of green.
Dotted around the room were four dressmaker’s mannequins with pieces of unfinished clothing fastened onto them.
Ursula’s eyes were on stalks. This was no crappy little shop. This was heaven.
Sitting at one of the workbenches was a girl with black spiky hair, red tartan bondage trousers and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
She was hunched over a piece of forest green velvet, hand stitching it.
Ursula wasn’t sure if the girl had seen her so she took a couple of steps closer and when that didn’t get her noticed, she coughed.
‘Yeah?’ said the girl, without looking up.
‘Are you Andi? Cassie said you’d show me around.’
‘Just a sec.’ She carried on stitching for a few minutes then laid the material down on the workbench. ‘Come on then. What’s your name again?’
‘Ursula Fry.’
Andi frowned and straight away, Ursula was worried she’d sounded too stiff and full of herself. She’d been here less than half an hour and she’d already made her first mistake.
‘Fry? Same as Cass. You related or something?’
Oh, so the frown had been for a different reason.
Or possibly two reasons. ‘Kind of I suppose. She’s my aunt, my dad’s sister, but we haven’t really spoken since my dad walked out on us.
’ Ursula had no idea how that had spilled out of her so fast. She usually kept it to herself.
Mistake number two. Bum. Cass obviously hadn’t told anyone in the shop.
She’d be furious when she found out, and all that grovelling, all that pride swallowing her mum had to endure to get her here would be wasted, because there was no way she was going to last the three months now.
She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
Preferably while ‘Supernature’ was playing so that she could at least die dancing.
‘He walked out on you? What a horrible thing to do.’
Ursula stopped thinking about what Cass was going to say and thought about what this girl had just said.
No one had ever put it that way before. Mostly, they didn’t talk about it at all.
Mostly, she didn’t think about it, other than it being a statement of fact.
Ten years ago, her dad had cut them out of his life completely.
Fact. But actually, Andi was right. It was a horrible thing to do.
‘What’s your favourite song this week?’ said Andi, as if she hadn’t just slung the most profound insight at Ursula’s feet.
‘Oh, ‘Supernature’. I can’t stop dancing to it.’
‘Yeah, that’s a good one.’ She began to sing the chorus and the next minute they were both dancing. And suddenly, Ursula had that feeling again. The one that told her this day was hers and she was going to remember it forever.