The Doll
"Mummy, mummy, I want that doll!" The little girl begged as she tugged on her mother's skirts, her small fist bunched in the thick fabric as her other hand nearly jammed through the window. The girl looked to be no older than ten, her dark mass of hair bunched into twin tails on the side of her head, green eyes sparkling with the threat of unshed tears. To the ordinary passerby it would seem as though it was a haggered young mother who was having trouble saying no to her daughter, however, to the trained eye it would make more sense.
'Addersfield Doll Maker'
The shop's sign was chipped and faded, well worn and weathered due to age. Despite the condition of the sign the quality of the dolls often spoke for themselves. Mr. Addersfield was an eccentric man and one who supposedly put a piece of his own soul in each doll to get them so lifelike. The current doll on display was no different, the porcelain skin blushed delicately with a rose pastel, the lips painted with pinks and whites in order to give the illusion of gloss, and piercing blue eyes that seemingly shone in the sunlight. Long, black hair fell limply down the doll's back and was tied with a red ribbon, curled lightly in an attempt to give it some more volume.
"Oh please, mummy!" The girl whined, her small foot stamping against the cobbled streets. Letting out a sigh and smoothing a hand over her daughter's part, kneeling down to the girl's level and placing her hands on thin shoulders. The girl's face had become quite ruddy in the build up and a few tears had already spilt down her cheeks at the threat of her mother saying no. Another sigh escaped her lips as she tried to think of her words carefully, her own green eyes searching for the right way to soothe the burgeoning temper tantrum.
"Sweetie, I-" With those two words it unleashed the waterworks that had been building in the small frame. It was not as loud as the mother had expected, which was a small miracle, yet that did not mean that it was any less ugly. Hiding her face in her hands did nothing to mask the creeping flush of frustration the small child felt. "N-no, don't cry. We can look, but mummy can't afford a new dolly right now." She tried to soothe the little girl with placating words and it seemed to work, a few great big sniffs and heaving breaths later, the girl composed herself at the promise of being able to at least see the doll she so coveted a bit closer.
The young mother took her daughter's hand in hers as she opened the door to the shop, the edge of the old thing catching on the bell hanging just above as they walked in, dust motes dancing in the sunlight streaming through the windows. The mother had to keep a tight grip on her daughter's hand to make sure she did not run straight for the doll she wanted lest she accidentally break anything. The inside of the store was just as antique as the exterior, the oak wood chipped and faded in various places, from the floor to the counter to the shelves that held the dolls themselves. The young woman felt rather out of place and a little creeped out, the dolls looked a little too real in a place that looked like it was hardly ever taken care of.
Still, she supposed if it made her daughter happy, she could stand a few minutes in this shop. "Come on, sweetie, let's take a look at that dolly." She gently led her daughter to the window display where the doll proudly sat, the box that would house the doll on its trip home resting behind it with the name 'Aoife' engraved into it. The young mother groaned as her daughter made the same observation that she had, gently babbling the name as she became lost in the creative, imaginary conversation that she was currently engaging the doll in.
"She's beautiful." A new voice broke the mother out of her trance, nearly jumping out of her skin as they crept up behind her with no sound. Turning around she saw the shop owner looking at her daughter chatting with the doll with a smile on his face. "How old is she?" He asked, hands folded behind his back as he turned his attention to the young woman instead.
"Oh, um, nine. She'll be ten next month." She nervously answered, thin hands fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. Green eyes glanced from the shop keeper to her daughter back to the shop keeper, keeping her eye out for any potential sources of danger. The man let out a small 'ah' and smiled once more, as if he had all the answers unlocked. Her daughter was blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place between the adults, still lost in the imaginary conversation taking place in her mind. Gently shuffling in place to fold his hands in front of him, the young woman was able to glimpse the wrinkled and scarred hands of a workman.
"Looking for a present, then?" The question itself was innocent enough, although from a shopkeepr it suddenly held a more pressuring tone. Anyone with eyes could tell that the girl was smitted with the doll and it was taking all of her restraint not to reach out to touch the doll. "Oh." He quickly caught himself with a chuckle, eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked back to the woman. "I won't take any offense if the answer is no." His tone was kind enough and did ease her nerves a little, though she still could not help but fidget with the collar of her sweater.
"Ah... unfortunately, not this time..." She trailed off, her voice barely more than a whisper. She felt a little uncomfortable now, reaching her hand out for her daughter. "Come on, darling, it's time to go." Of course, like any child who found a new favourite friend, her child was more than reluctant to leave. Even as she saw the addition of the older gentleman she still pouted and crossed her arms, her cheeks puffed.
"Just a few more minutes! This doll is so pretty..." Her voice held the same warning as before, her eyes sparkling at the denial. Afraid of causing a scene the young woman relented, dropping her hand at her side with a small sigh of resignation. She knew what the man must be thinking, used to the judgemental stares of the townsfolk as a single mother. Instead, he surprised her by gently leading her to the counter.
Folding his hands on the counter, the man looked at her with a more serious look. "How would you feel about that doll being her birthday present, free of charge?" The mother nearly fainted, her hands falling in front of her to catch herself on the counter as she stumbled. "She's smitten with my creation, something which is a reward in of itself. Aoife would be getting a wonderful home with your daughter." He went on to explain his reasoning, his generousity causing her own green eyes to well with unshed tears.
"Besides, her beautiful green eyes have provided inpsiration for my next doll."
After many profuse 'thank you's and 'happy birthday's were said as the doll was packaged, the young woman grabbed her daughter's hand and went to lead her out of the store when the man called out once more.
"By the way, what is her name?"
"Imogen"
"That's a lovely name." He merely smiled, before waving goodbye as the bell chimed above the door, the figure of the mother and the daughter retreated from the shop, the daughter happy with the her new doll.
