The wool counter

Source: an original fiction extract.

At half past nine on Saturday, Noor arrived at the fabric shop to help with its stock count. Her aunt gave her a clipboard and asked her to start with the wool in the back room. There were six shelves, arranged by colour, and Noor was to record the number of full packets on each one. Loose balls would be counted later. She placed her coat on a hook beside the door and opened the first cupboard. In the front of the shop, a customer was choosing ribbon for a school costume. The till rang twice before Noor had written her first total.

Most of the packets were smooth and square, their paper bands giving every useful fact: weight, colour and washing instructions. On the lowest shelf stood a basket with no label. It held small balls of different shades, some wound tightly and others trailing loose ends. Noor asked whether they should be thrown away. Her aunt said no, but did not explain before the customer called her back. Noor moved the basket beneath the clipboard and continued counting the packets, careful not to include it in the total.

Near closing time, a man came in carrying a knitted blanket. It was folded over his arm like a small sleeping animal. He spread one corner across the counter and showed Noor's aunt a hole. The rest was patterned in colours so varied that Noor could not find a single repeated row. He said his mother had made it from the ends of things: leftover wool from jumpers, scarves and a cardigan that had never fitted anyone. He wanted to mend the hole, but no new shade seemed quite right.

Her aunt fetched the unlabelled basket. They spread its contents beside the blanket and began comparing. Noor found a dull yellow that matched a narrow stripe. The man said that colour had belonged to his brother's school jumper. His voice changed slightly as he said it, becoming less brisk. Another ball was close to the green around the hole. It was not exact. Noor's aunt said a repair could belong to the blanket without disappearing completely. The man turned the two colours over in his hand and asked for a needle as well.

When they locked the shop, Noor carried the basket back to its shelf. She made a label, then hesitated over what to write. The full packets had names chosen by a manufacturer; these fragments had come from places nobody had recorded. Finally she wrote Small quantities for repairs and put the loose ends inside. The label would not explain why a particular yellow mattered to someone. It would, at least, stop the next person counting stock from mistaking the whole basket for rubbish.

Refer only to the first paragraph. Choose one answer for each item. Write the four letters in order, labelling them 1 to 4.