The Yarn Shop                                               

February 1988

Edla looked over at her only customer, “I’m closing for tea in five minutes, Sandra, care to join me?”  The waif-like girl looked up from the nearly empty rack holding just a few pattern book, one of which she was thumbing through. Until just recently, before the Global War of 1987, the small, narrow shop had been filled to overflowing with luxurious wool yarn and silk thread from around the world. The shop owner looked at her sadly depleted store and sighed. The greatest tragedy, though, had been in the loss of irreplaceable talent.  Edla looked up to the painted needlepoint canvas hanging near the ceiling with its rendition of Noah’s Ark. Poor Sarai. Edla’s most talented artist had been killed in the nuclear bombing of Tehran while visiting her family and that had been her last canvas. Maybe one day Edla would do that one herself.

“Yes, ma’am, that would be lovely.”  Edla’s attention was jerked back to the girl.  The accent was assuredly not British, although the word choices seemed to be inclined that way.  Just another minor mystery to this young lady who had become quite the regular over the past few months.

Sandra closed the book and carefully replaced it in the rack, straightening the others as she did so.  Tucking her long, black hair behind her ear, she bent to pick up Moggy, the shop’s sleek, brown purring tabby, and looked shyly toward Edla to see what else she could do to help. 

“Why don’t you lock the door and turn the sign, dear, I’ll meet you in the back.  We can look through the new books. There might just be one or two you’ll fancy.”  Edla at least hoped so as she made room for the girl and cat to slip past her.  Edla watched as Sandra placed the cat in the nearly empty display window and then briefly tussled with the abutting creaky old door, those architectural features comprising the entirety of the front wall of the narrow shop. 

Edla glanced out the front window to the skeletal tree branches waving in the cold wind, shivered and turned away.  Wrapping her knitted shawl tighter about her shoulders, Edla walked to the back of the store to start the water boiling. Anything to help her feel warm. The middle-aged, red-haired shop owner had ordered a few pattern books with the girl in mind.  Sandra liked counted cross-stitch, the more demanding the better it seemed.  The shop owner didn’t quite have a handle on the child’s preferences yet, although Sandra had purchased patterns with strong geometric components and bright colors.  As they shared tea and biscuits, Edla thought it was high time to make some calls over to friends at Oxford to see what she could find out about her small mystery.

Sandra was late today.  She usually showed up by three pm on Wednesdays to help sort and put out the new merchandise.  The bell over the door jangled, and without looking up Edla said, “Sandra, I was beginning…”   When the wooden floor creaked more than it ever did to the slight girl’s passage, Edla looked up and saw a tall, blond woman, outlined against the light from the front window.  The woman was peering into the relative darkness of the store and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting; she was about as different from tiny Sandra as Edla could imagine.  “I’m so sorry, I was expecting someone else.”

“Quite alright,” smiled the lady as she scratched the cat on the countertop.  She looked around at the few painted needlepoint canvases.  “Do you have any cross-stitch patterns?” 

Edla nodded and moved around the counter to show the new customer the available patterns and supplies.  The door opened again, and this time it was her expected friend bundled up in a thick sweater against the chill of the early spring air.  Sandra smiled an apology and headed for the opened box behind the counter, and after first removing the inquisitive cat, started to sort through the new treasures.  This week it was predominantly needlepoint canvases and skeins of fine yarn.  The shortages that had occurred as a result of the War were slowly smoothing out and of late the finer dyed wools and the now rare silks were again becoming available.

“Edla, do you want the shelves re-organized to include these beautiful yarns?”  Sandra asked quietly as she ran appreciative fingers along the fine, soft skeins.

“Certainly, dear.  Do as you see best.”  Sandra had a knack of putting things in very eye-catching patterns that Edla appreciated, especially as the girl worked for free.  That the patterns did not always make sense did not bother her in the least.

Sandra started to empty out the criss-cross of shelves that lined one wall, each cubby holding a few brightly colored skeins of yarn. After she had the lower levels resorted to her satisfaction, she fetched a stool to reach the top rows. She balanced precariously on the wobbly three legged wooden stool, but as she was reaching for the last few skeins she lost her balance and landed back on the floor.

“Here, let me help you.”  The blond woman reached up and removed the offending bundles of yarn and handed them to Sandra who took them politely with a bob of her head.  She looked at the woman questioningly and the woman laughed.  “Yes, I’m from Australia.”  

Sandra felt very embarrassed at her poor manners.  Oxford was quite the international community, but still, one heard an American accent more frequently than Australian.

“It’s alright.  Everyone seems to give me that same look.  Diane Compt, from Sydney.” The woman had a very friendly smile on her face.

“Sandra Benes.”  She tried to recoup her poor showing so far.  “May I help you find anything?”  She looked quickly at Edla, “I do not work here, but I know just about where everything is.”

“That she does.”  Edla agreed equitably as she turned back to her books leaving her two customers to chat animatedly about various needlework projects. Little did the shop owner realize that a lifelong friendship was about to be born.

A few weeks later, as the leaf buds on the trees were just starting to swell, Diane and Sandra sat on the floor looking through newly arrived fabric with the assistance of Moggy.  In the companionable silence, Diane’s ever-present curiosity finally got the better of her. “Do you attend Oxford, Sandra?” She had made several trips to the yarn store for supplies and had found Sandra here more often than not.  The girl seemed very young, but had a self-assuredness that implied more years than she looked.

Sandra briefly made eye contact and nodded.  “I took courses the past Hillary Term, and I have a few now in Trinity Term, but that is mostly to please my father.  I would much rather go to McGill, but he says that is too far away. Their computer and engineering studies are superior.” 

“Oh?  What degree are you reading for?”

”Microelectronic engineering, Lincoln College” 

“Shouldn’t you be in lecture or tutorials some of the day then?”  Diane’s abiding sin of needing to know was not yet satisfied. The girl did not act like the type of person Diane usually thought of as an engineer, but then again, neither did she. Sandra seemed to live in the small shop, although Oxford was so very large that there was no reason why Diane should see her in class or even about campus.  

“I finished the course work ages ago and the tutorials are not very challenging,” the girl shrugged.  “I tried for the computer design tutorial with Dr. Ouma but he takes only advanced level students.  I am working on projects of my own but I can only access the central computer after hours.”

“Ahh.”  The central computer had such restricted access that it was interesting that this young lady had clearance at all.  Diane wondered if Edla, who watched over the girl with a maternal eye, knew anything more.

Sandra looked up from smoothing the fine linen fabric in her lap. She now felt bold enough to ask a question herself. “What are you studying?”

“Oh, a practical lab on engine performance.  Physics in action, as it were.” Diane smiled and shrugged in a deprecating way.  Before Sandra could ask further the bell over the door jangled as it opened. 

“Sandra, you in here?” A tall, curly brown haired man in his late twenties walked in and looked about.  He nodded absently to Edla as he continued to scan the small shop. Seeing Sandra stand up he smiled tightly.  “Yes, I told him this is where you’d be.  Come along now, supper’s ready.”  And without waiting to see if she would comply he turned and left the shop.

Sandra turned back briefly to nod good-bye to the two women and then walked to the front of the store to follow the man out.

Diane turned to glance at Edla not at all impressed by the arrogant air the young man had in assuming Sandra would immediately obey.  “Her boyfriend?”

Edla looked mildly surprised and shook her head. “No, her brother.”

Diane pulled the rickety three legged stool by the counter and sat down, her lap immediately full of cat.  “So, what else do you know of our young lady?”

Edla raised her eyebrow.  Her phone calls had actually revealed quite a bit. Many of the wives and daughters of Oxford faculty had come to her shop over the years, not to mention many of the ever-observant maintenance staff, so she had quite a network of gossip cronies to call upon.  Diane, however, was one of the few active teaching staff that had ever visited the shop, even if she was at Oxford only on a temporary basis as a guest lecturer.  “Now why would you think I know anything else at all, Dr. Compt?”

Diane smiled delightedly, her case just made for her.  “For one, I’ve never used that title here so you must have found out from someone on campus.”

Edla smiled at that sally. 

For another, I like the girl and it looks like she could use a few friends.”

The answer was the right one.  Edla’s calls had also been about the Australian visitor and every source was uniform in the high regard in which she was held.

“Her father is Lawrence Benes, a computer expert.  He’s invented things for the space program, or did before the War caused him to return to the U.K.   Word is he is working on some way for astronauts to talk with Earth from far away.”  Edla shrugged, this was beyond her realm of interest.  “His second wife, Sandra’s mum, died in an airplane crash just prior to the War.  A terrorist act it is said, and Dr. Benes hasn’t flown since. Sandra’s apparently finished all her preliminary studies and was admitted to the upper division to study computers, for all she is only seventeen.  She’s said to be a bright girl.  She keeps to herself but is held kindly by the maintenance staff.”

"And her other family?” asked Diane.

“Alec that you have, ah, met, and another brother attended classes here years ago.  There may be a sister…”  Edla shrugged noncommittally.   “Sandra’s a lovely girl.  She could use a friend.”

Diane nodded in agreement.  She had heard of Dr. Benes and his research.  It was exceptionally cutting edge and rumor was it might just put him on track for the Nobel Prize in the near future.  Well, the girl had just found herself a friend.

The season progressed and the temperature warmed. The trees were in new leaf and the flowerbox outside the shop window overflowed with a profusion of primroses.  Edla was refilling the small embroidery floss cubbies when the creaky door burst open and Sandra ran in out of breath and with a high flush to her face.  “Edla, Diane,” the girl not quite shouted, her dark eyes flashing excitedly, “There is an Eagle coming here the day after tomorrow!  I overheard my papa on the telephone.  It is coming for one of the symposiums being given by a visiting lecturer.”

Diane smiled to see Sandra so happy.  She now had a better understanding of how difficult things had been for Sandra since her mother had died last year. Once Diane had convinced the service staff of her sincere interest they had filled her in on the many lonely hours the girl had spent working on the computers late into the nights.  One woman, Ellie, had even told Diane of the pictures of space craft that covered her texts. “Would you like to see it, Sandra?” 

“Oh, yes… but,” her eyes lost their sparkle, “there will be too many people entitled to a tour for a student to make the grade.  My father might rate, but he will never ask.”    The girl literally drooped with disappointment.

Sandra, how would you like to be my guest when the Eagle lands?”

Hope flashed briefly in Sandra’s eyes, and then dimmed.  “Thank you, Diane, that would be lovely.” As always, her manners were impeccable.

Diane grinned.  “I don’t think you understand, love.  The Eagle is coming here… because I asked it to.”

Sandra’s eyed widened in amazement and then narrowed in suspicion.  “I thought you said you were here for a physics lab course.”

“True enough.  I’m teaching it.”  Laughing at the nonplussed expression on Sandra’s face Diane walked over to the girl and hugged her.

The rest of that day and the next were among the longest Sandra could remember. The night before the Eagle’s arrival she slept as restlessly as a child on Christmas Eve.  Sometime after midnight the phone rang shattering the silence of the old Tudor house.  Sandra sat bolt upright in surprise.  Someone picked up the call after the second ring as Sandra shook the sleep out of her eyes and looked at the clock.  Three am.  Probably some girl after Alec.  She lay back down and buried her head under the pillow only to be interrupted by the tap on her door.  Her father opened the door and spoke quietly from the hallway.

“Sandra, it’s a Dr. Diane Compt for you.  She said you would know why.”

“The Eagle!”  Sandra threw the blankets back, slid her feet into her slippers and dashed out the door and down the stairs to pick up the phone in her father’s study. “Diane?”

“Sandra, can you be ready in 15 minutes?  I just got word they’re running early and will be here in 45 minutes or so.”

"Certainly.”

"This is great, Sandra, a night approach is incredible to see!”

Sandra smiled at the obvious enthusiasm in Diane’s voice.  At that moment Sandra wasn’t sure who was more excited, herself or the propulsion design physicist. 

Sandra rang off and flew back up the stairs past her confused father and into her bedroom.  Dr. Benes could hear hangers rattling in the closet and then water in the bathroom.  Within ten minutes, his daughter now dressed in slacks and shirt dashed past him again pushing a hairband through her long hair.  She almost flew down the stairs.  She jumped the last two treads and was looking out the window by the antique grandfather clock in the front hallway, camera in hand and anticipation palpable in the air.

“Sandra, a word of explanation would be in order, I believe.”  Dr Benes had taken a moment to don a houserobe and glasses and was now coming down the stairs with much more dignity.  He looked down at his petite daughter.  Would she ever get any taller? 

Sandra kept watch out the window.  “Dr. Compt is a visiting lecturer from Sydney and she invited the Eagle to come as part of her course demonstration.  She has invited me along as her guest, Papa, and the Eagle is arriving earlier than expected.”

“Were you planning on telling me, child?”

Sandra turned to look up her father with a look of hesitant rebellion in her face.  “I was afraid you would not let me go.”

Hmph.  The child had the right of it.  But as Dr. Compt was pulling up in the driveway he would put a good face on it.  He knew the woman by reputation only but that was a formidable one.  “Introduce me, child, then you can be off.”

“Oh, thank you, Papa!”  And Dr. Benes found himself in the warm embrace of his youngest child.  The door bell rang.  “Get it, dear,” he said awkwardly patting her on the back.  He was always a bit afraid he would hurt her if he patted too hard.  Sandra let her father go and opened the door to a tall, strikingly handsome blond woman in her mid-thirties. 

“Come along, Sandra, we don’t want to be late.  Oh…”  Diane paused at the sight of Sandra’s father. 

Sandra collected herself and with poise made the introductions.  “Diane, Dr. Compt, this is my father Dr. Lawrence Benes.”

Diane held out her hand to the distinguished man and smiled.  “Nice to meet you, sir, but we really must run.  You’re more than welcome to join us if you wish.”

With a pointed glance down to his nightclothes, he politely shook his head.  “I rather think not.  Please have my daughter back in time for her classes.  Good-day.”  And with a final gentle pat on Sandra’s shoulder he turned to climb the stairs.

Sandra locked the door and pocketed the key.  As they walked to the car Diane looked quizzically at Sandra.  “Doesn’t he realize you’re studying on your own now?” 

Sandra just shrugged off the vagaries and forgetfulness of her papa; she was much too excited to see the Eagle.

"Show off,” muttered Diane.

Sandra spared a quick, questioning look at the woman who shrugged.  “Military pilots are a cocky lot, astronauts moreso.  I’m not sure who’s flying the bird, but don’t let them razz you.  Some of the Eagle pilots are a bit… spirited.” 

The somewhat older more assured-appearing man had exited last, and after a quick glance at the others said “At ease” in a voice that held a soft Italian accent.  The line-up relaxed marginally to Sandra’s eyes with their hands going behind their backs and their posture becoming slightly less rigid, but all strictly in unison. 

The senior officer glanced around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and smiled to see Diane.  He walked over with his hand out.  “Dr. Compt, why am I not surprised to see you here at this early hour?”  Once he held her hand he lifted it in a courtly fashion to brush his lips against the knuckles.

And when have I ever missed the opportunity to see an Eagle, Tony?” Diane smiled at his gallantry.

“Never, dear doctor, never.” The man smiled at Sandra.  “And I suppose you and your young guest would like a tour?”  And without waiting for an answer the pilot called over his shoulder, “Netsley, front and center.”  The young woman marched forward to stand a respectful three paces behind Lt. Cellini, for that is what Sandra could read on his uniform.  “Please escort Dr. Compt and her guest through the Eagle until they are through and then shut down and secure the area.”

"Yes, sir.”

“I will take the other cadets to the quarters arranged.  Shall I see you again?”  Lt Cellini smiled at Diane with a bit more than mere professional interest.

“But of course.  Who else will keep the academics in line while they ogle your baby.”

“Quite true,” sighed the pilot.  “Only for you would Sydney Command authorize an Eagle to come to the U.K. for a…” and the man paused to hunt for the correct idiom, “a show-and-tell session.”

"Which you thriftily combined with a training flight of pilot candidates.”

Cellini shared a smile of whimsy with Diane and then called his cadets to the waiting cars that had appeared. 

Rubbing her hands together in undisguised pleasure Diane looked at her young friend.  “Come along, Sandra, I’ll show you everything.  Better even than the tour than the VIP’s will get!”  And covering almost every centimeter fore to aft and port to starboard of the incredible machine, the tour most certainly was.

Much later that afternoon a tired but happy Sandra stood next to Diane in the front of the respectful crowd gathered to see the Eagle off.  Lt. Cellini called the cadets to board.  “Franklin, make sure the cargo area is secured.  Carter, you’re flying co-pilot.  Let’s go people.”  Sandra watched as a very blond young man cracked a wide grin and hopped aboard the Eagle turning forward toward the flight deck. 

“Thank you, Tony,” Diane said from Sandra’s side. 

“It is never an imposition, Diane.  To fly for any reason is a joy.  Will we be seeing you in Sydney soon?  I am due to be rotated out in a few months and it would be nice to enjoy a dinner with you first.  We could talk space missions and the Alpha plans.”

“Do we ever talk anything else?” 

“Unfortunately, dear lady, no.”  Tony smiled. “Ciao.”  And with that, Cellini joined his crew. In very short order the Eagle’s main engines roared to life and the machine lifted off with only the slightest of bobbles and turned to point its nose back home to Sydney.

After the Eagle was completely lost to sight Sandra took Diane back to her home and invited her in for a late tea.  “Thank you so very much, Diane, that was simply brilliant.  Have you ever flown in one?” 

There was such a wistful look on the girl’s face that Diane mentally kicked herself.  If she had been thinking she could have asked Tony to take Sandra up.  Another time perhaps.  She planned to stay in touch with her young friend.  “Many times, Sandra.  I make an effort to fly as often as possible to feel the actual differences in the engines. I know most of the active duty pilots and they usually let me have free reign.” 

The statement was said with a complete casualness that was the envy of Sandra. 

“In fact, when I finish here in a few weeks I’m due to go on one of the flights to review the preliminary work on Moonbase Alpha.”  The hunger on Sandra’s face at that simple statement quite surprised Diane. “What is it?”

Sandra looked down at the table.  “Do you promise not to laugh?”  She looked up to see Diane’s agreeing nod.

“I want to go into space.  I want to go to Alpha.”

“That’s wonderful!  Why do you think I would laugh?”

“Look at me, Diane.  I am under their height regs by at least 10 centimeters.  I can not even qualify for the space service.”  Disappointment registered clearly in the quiet voice as Sandra dropped her eyes to study her hands.  

Diane could hear an old hurt, but… she reached over across the table and placed a finger under Sandra’s chin and raised her up to look blue eye to brown. “Then, love, you simply have to be so good at what you do that they can’t turn you down.”

Sandra studied Diane carefully to see if she was being teased.  She saw simple honesty in Diane’s face.  “Do you think it is possible?”

“I wouldn’t give you false hope, love.  It won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible.”  And if the girl lived up to her potential, well, Diane knew a few important ears into which she could drop a few whispers. 

The light of determination brightened Sandra’s expression.

The soft, wet British spring had turned into summer and the trees lining the small cobblestone road rustled in the warm breezes.  Edla had the front door to the shop propped open to enjoy the day.  Sandra sat perched on the wobbly stool, the ever-present cat kneading in her lap.  She looked forlornly at Diane as she selected her final few purchases.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks to wrap up my work here.  We can spend time together then.”

Sandra nodded sadly.  She had found a confidant in Diane, the first since her mother had died and was very upset to see her leave.

“Have you considered the University of Sydney?  It has strong computer and electronics divisions.” Diane handed the last few embroidery thread skeins to Edla for wrapping.

If Papa will not consider McGill, I doubt he will consent to Sydney.”

“You will be eighteen in a few months, Sandra. Your father could not forbid you then to go to any university you chose.  If you apply now you might be awarded a scholarship for the second semester, and if not then, perhaps for after Christmas.”

Movement just outside the front window’s flowerbox caused Edla to glance up.  She motioned for quiet and then pointed her chin in the direction of the store front where Dr. Benes was looking in.  Edla noticed with interest that it was not his daughter that he watched. 

Sandra looked between her father and Diane.  Her papa had asked quite a few questions about her friend.  Quite a few personal questions, Sandra now realized, about her unmarried and unattached friend.  “Diane, please come to my home for dinner tonight. It will be one last chance to visit.”

"Your family will not mind?”

“No, I do not think so.  Please say yes.” 

Diane was pleased to see the light back in Sandra’s eyes.  In fact, she could think of no nicer way to end her term than in the company of her young friend.  “I would be delighted to, love.”

Sandra was happy. Glancing first at her handsome father and then at Diane, she thought just maybe her friend might find a second reason to come back and visit often. 

Edla smiled to see the gleam of calculation in the young woman’s eye.

MGK

17 Jan 2006

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