Velvet Mill Taffy Shop

The smog ran through the night air, making its way down the dirty alleyways of Exeter like a snake slithering home after eating its meal. Women of the night were making their rounds in the Southwark district, each corner full, but making sure the rules of the game were in place, while the old fishermen were at the Cat and Custard Pot tavern drinking away their sorrows, unable to afford a ‘fille de joie’, as the French would say. Maggie Goodall however was no prostitute, but the most respected governess of Exeter. She was beloved of the children Martha, Thomas, and Henry Arbuthnot who lived with their Father Lord Reginaldus. The children’s mother Shusanna had died in childbirth when Henry was born, and Maggie had become their governess not much later.

With flaming red wavy hair, and the deepest of blue eyes, Maggie was a sight to behold. Her curves were accentuated with her burgundy corset, white bodice and black hoop skirt. Maggie was the most sought-after woman in town; not only from the men, asking her daily to marry them, but also other families offering to buy her services. Maggie however, only had eyes for her children, as she called them and their father. Each night, after she had put the children to sleep, Maggie would walk through the streets, on her way to visit her mother and father, talking to the flower lady, or the lamplighter lighting his 80th streetlight, or Lady and Lord Gerbald. Maggie treated each person the same, this she set her pride on. Once having finished her cup of tea with her mother and father, and helping them around the house, she made her way back to Lord Reginaldus’ place, where she slept in the west quarter of the house.

On the other side of town, on the corner of Berr Lane and Saint Margaret Lane, there sat the Velvet Mill Taffy shop. The best sweet shop in the county, and it was run by Mr Fred Morton. His father had owned it before him, as his father did before him and so on, down the family line starting in 1553. Fred stood at 6 feet, his long oval face matched his long pointy nose and chin, complimenting his slender shoulders. Although very handsome, Mr Morton could never hold down a relationship, since his love for the sweet shop came first. That all changed the day he met Maggie.

Mr Morton heard a chorus of cherubs sing and could have sworn she was surrounded by angelic light, though closer inspection would have led him to the conclusion that it was the sunlight hitting the stained windows when she was in his shop. Maggie along with the children had entered the shop one summer afternoon, Mr Morton watched as Maggie’s face filled with pleasure as she walked around, inhaling all the aromas. Watching her, Mr Morton could almost pick up on which scents made her recoil and which ones combined would have produced pure ecstasy in her.

Over the next couple of months, Mr Morton took mental notes on Maggie, when she came in, what she bought, what she said, her interactions with the children. Eventually he even got her to call him Fred instead of Mr Morton, which made him smile. Day by day, week by week and month by month, Fred made slight improvements to his shop, setting it up in such a way that when Maggie walked in, her first reaction would be to inhale deeply and sigh with such contentment that he hoped she would finally see who Mr Morton was beyond that of the sweet shop taffy maker.

Maggie stepped through the alleyways in the little town and held her breath. The assault of sweat, stale ale and rancid meat filled each nostril despite her valiant efforts. This morning was special, she was going to surprise the children with their favourite taffy as Martha had astounded everyone last night at the piano recital while the two younger boys had played their violins beautifully. She hurried down the ally, turning left and entered the shop, the smell of bubbling hot sticky Cherry taffy was the first to hit her, walking over to the counter, her nose in the air sniffing the sweet, caramel scent until her eyes fell upon Fred turning over the taffy on the hook.

“Oh Fred, the smells! They’re to die for.”

 “Morning Miss Maggie.” Fred smiled, now if he could only work up the courage to ask her out. “What can I do for you today? And where is Miss Martha and Master Thomas and Master Henry?”

            “They are with their Father this morning, having earnt the time after their beautiful music recital. I’m here to purchase their favourite taffy, as a reward for such hard work.”

            “Splendid. I’ll give them some extra from me, shall I?”

            “I’m sure they’ll love that Fred.” Maggie smiled; her eyes twinkled.

Fred walked over to where the strings of vanilla taffy were held, and cut down pieces, rolling them into a neat coil, wrapping them ever so gently in ribbons of cherry liquorice. He took another five pieces of taffy, this time cherry in flavour and wrapped it in a vanilla liquorice – Maggie’s favourite combination of flavours.

            “Miss Maggie, I just want to say, them children are very lucky to have someone like you around.” He walked around the counter, now standing in front of her, placing himself between the front door and herself. “Take these, they are free. The children deserve them and so do you.” He hand her the cherry taffy and smiled. Composing himself, he cleared his throat. “Miss Maggie, I was hoping you’d accompany me to see the Götterdämmerung opera on Saturday night?”

            Maggie took a step back, and smiled “Oh Fred, I’m honoured, but I’m terribly sorry I can’t. Thank you for the taffy, the children will love it, and I love the cherry taffy, but please here.” She handed him coins.

            Fred’s face became hard and his once soft eyes, became steel. Clearing his voice, he repeated “Miss Maggie, I was hoping you’d accompany me to see the Götterdämmerung opera on Saturday night?”

            Maggie confused, shook her head “Fred…”

            “Mr Morton.” He snapped.

            “Mr Morton,” she backed up, bumping into the counter and dropping the taffy on the floor. “I am sorry Mr Morton, but I cannot accept your offer.”

            “Maggie, I am terribly disappointed in you, after everything I have done. I’ve changed the shop to your needs, I’ve studied you for months, but no, I’m not good enough for Maggie Goodall.” He took one methodical step towards her, his eyes focused on her – behind her.

            “Mr Morton, you’re scaring me. I am sorry that you have gone through the trouble, I truly am, but I am spoken for. Oh Fred, please! Think of Miss Martha, and Henry and Thomas.”

            “Never call me Fred, you’ve lost that right.” Mr Morton took another step towards Maggie, mere inches away from her, he could see her shaking under the front counter spotlight. “I had high hopes for us Maggie dear, high hopes indeed.”

            Maggie slowly moved around the counter, her anticipation that someone would walk in the store was dying down, and she turned her attention to making it into back alleyway. Making her way towards the door which led to the storeroom, Maggie kept her eyes locked on Mr Morton, feeling her way with her hand behind her.

            “Mr Morton, please. I am begging you sir, let me go, let me say goodbye to the children, I’ll come back.”

            Mr Morton chuckled a deep belly laugh “Maggie, do you take me for such a fool? Do you really think that now I could let you go, now that you’re in my shop with nowhere to go?” Mr Morton stepped to his left, forcing Maggie to her right, away from the storeroom door, towards the right wall of the shop, where all the taffy hung in their bright colours. He was slowly manoeuvring her into place; exactly where he wanted her. The bright cherry taffy hanging off the hook, glistened off the morning light.

            “I am sure Maggie my darling, my lovely sweet Maggie, that you’ll be happy here. And you’ll be my most popular flavour yet.”

The last thing Maggie remembered were the children; Miss Martha growing up so fast, Master Thomas about to work with his father, and dear sweet Master Henry – Again without a mother. She thought of her mother and father, the splendid times they had tea together. And she thought of Lord Reginaldus, and how she never got the chance to tell him how she felt.

On the corner of Berr Lane and Saint Margaret Lane, there sat the Velvet Mill Taffy shop. It sold the best taffy in all of England – people would come from miles to try the Cherry-Vanilla taffy. It was the most popular flavour yet. The shop was run by Mr Fred Morton, his father had owned it before him, as his father did before him and so on, down the family line starting in 1553.