by Rosie Clarke
Since then, Reggie had presented her with a quarter-pound box of Fry’s chocolates, a fruit cake his mother had made, bunches of flowers from his garden and a big bag of fresh peas he’d grown himself. He couldn’t have made his intentions clearer and he’d told her he would take her to a dance on her birthday.
‘I’d take yer out more,’ he’d told her after their last walk together, ‘but I know yer busy, Marion – and if I take yer to the music hall and dancing folk will think we’re engaged.’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t take me out on my birthday…’ she suggested shyly. She would be seventeen then and around here that was considered old enough to be courting proper – married and with a baby on the way in many cases. The girls mainly worked in factories or canteens and often married young to escape the drudgery of their lives. Marion thought herself fortunate to have landed a wonderful job at Harpers and often had to pinch herself to make sure it was true.
‘It’s all right, Paula and her lad are comin’ too, so we’re goin’ together,’ Reggie had replied. ‘It was Paula who suggested it – Ma wouldn’t let her and Keith go on their own, so I said I’d buy tickets for us. I knew it was your birthday and I thought…’ He’d looked at her hopefully then.
‘I’d love to go,’ Marion had told him. ‘It’s kind of you – and Paula – to think of me.’
‘I’d like to think of you more,’ Reggie had said, taking her hand for a moment and caressing it with his fingers. ‘You’re only young, Marion, and I’m twenty. Ma says it’s too early for us to marry yet, because I need to save a bit, so I can’t ask – and you have to look after Milly and the others…’
‘We hardly know each other,’ Marion had said because sometimes the look in his eyes made her tremble inside. She wasn’t ready for marriage yet and she was glad Mrs Jackson had told him it was too soon. ‘I do like you, Reggie – and I’m glad you come round for me sometimes…’ It was as much as she could say to him. They were neighbours and friends and Marion felt proud that he’d singled her out, because there were lots of young girls around here who would have jumped at the chance to walk out with Reggie Jackson.
‘I like you a lot,’ he’d told her with a smile that made her tingle right down to her toes. ‘One day I’ll say more, Marion, but not yet…’
‘Thank you,’ she’d said, because she didn’t know what else to say. Marriage was a big commitment and Marion was enjoying her life. Working at Harpers was fun now she was getting used to it and if she fell for a child it would all end. Besides, Pa would never allow it – and Ma needed her at home. Even if Reggie moved in so that she could carry on looking after her family, she wasn’t ready to say yes. Marion had seen that there was more to life than the existence her mother had in these lanes. Perhaps if she worked hard, she might get on and make something more of her life, maybe even become a senior sales girl at Harpers…
‘So, the news is excellent,’ Beth told Marion the next morning when she called her over. ‘Mrs Craven spoke to Mr Stockbridge and he is going to find us a new junior, which means that you will be promoted to salesgirl, because you’re nearly seventeen now – and your wage will be sixteen shillings from next week.’
It was more than twice what she’d earned so far! Marion felt a surge of joy, lifting the dark cloud that had hung over her since the previous evening when her father had returned home drunk from his outing to the pub. He’d lurched into the kitchen, knocking into the table and spilling cocoa from the mugs she’d been going to take upstairs.
‘Be careful, Pa!’ she’d dared to object and his fist had swung out, catching her on the side of the head and knocking her back against the sink.
‘Don’t tell me what to do, girl,’ he’d said and sworn at her, a filthy nasty word she’d never heard from him before.
Marion had shrunk back as he’d lurched towards the stairs.
A few minutes later and she’d heard her mother’s cries, begging him to stop hurting her, screaming and weeping desperately. Marion had started towards the stairs, but Robbie caught her arm, holding her back.
‘He’s hurting her,’ she’d cried tears on her cheeks. ‘I have to stop him…’
‘You can’t,’ Robbie told her. ‘Dan tried and he knocked him down the stairs, broke his wrist and half killed him. Why do you think he cleared off and left us? I know there’s no sense in trying. I’ll fetch the doctor to her when he’s sleeping it off.’
‘Oh, Robbie…’ Marion had said despairingly. ‘Are all men this brutal to their wives?’ To know that her mother was suffering such pain and they couldn’t help her just tore her apart. Wild thoughts of asking Reggie to interfere went through her mind, but that was a last resort. Neighbours and friends did not interfere between husband and wife, even when they were aware of brutality in the home. Only a few men would actually be able to stand up to Marion’s father, and though Reggie would have a go, she couldn’t ask him.
‘The ones that get mindlessly drunk often are,’ her brother had answered her question and anger was in his eyes. ‘The law should stop them, Marion, but unless he actually kills her, they will do nothing. Dan tried everything – police, lawyers, the lot; they all told him they couldn’t do anything except warn Dad and he just swore at the one that tried – so Dan cleared off.’
‘So, shall you go too?’ Marion had asked then.
Robbie had shaken his head. ‘No, because you and the others need me – but I won’t help her until he’s asleep. I can’t…’ He’d looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not a coward, Marion, but if he half kills me, I can’t work and I’d lose my job – and you couldn’t manage without my wage.’
Mrs Burrows was talking to her again, bringing her mind back sharply. ‘Did you hear what I said, Marion?’
Marion blinked away her tears. ‘Yes, Mrs Burrows, I was just shocked – it is wonderful news, thank you. It was so good of you to recommend me.’
‘Well, I thought you deserved it,’ her supervisor said. ‘Don’t let me down, Miss Kaye. I’ve spoken out for you – so no more being late.’
‘No, Mrs Burrows, I shan’t be late.’
Kathy had stayed home that morning to look after Ma. Their mother had a black eye and there were bruises all over her. Robbie had gone for the doctor, but he’d refused to come until the morning, so Kathy had offered to let him in. Milly had been sent next door to stay out of the way. Pa had slept until about seven in the morning and then got up and walked out without washing or asking for something to eat. Marion hoped he wouldn’t be there when she got home that evening.
Marion had been told she could take over the hats. Maggie liked being on the scarves and gloves and had asked if she could keep her counter, but Marion was delighted with her promotion once it sunk in. She set about rearranging the displays every chance she got and when Mr Marco came in later that morning, he complimented her on the changes she had made.
‘You could have a future in window dressing,’ he told her and nodded as he walked round each display. ‘I might ask for your help another day – if Mrs Burrows could spare you.’
‘I need my staff,’ Mrs Burrows said, coming up to them. ‘She’s made a difference already, hasn’t she – so what can we do for you?’
‘I want six beautiful hats,’ Mr Marco said. ‘The kind you would choose if you were invited to a special wedding or a garden party.’
‘I think we should let Miss Kaye choose them for you,’ Mrs Burrows replied. ‘She has a good eye and she knows what she has in the stockroom.’ Her gaze moved to Marion for a moment. ‘I know I don’t need to tell you – but make sure to list the hats as for window dressing.’
‘Yes, Mrs Burrows,’ Marion and Mr Marco answered together and he winked at Marion.
She hid her smile, went into the stockroom and came back with eight hatboxes. I think these will be just what you need.’ She put them on the counter for Mr Marco to choose which he wanted and then turned away to serve a lady who had decided she wanted to purchase a white straw hat with pink roses on the br
im.
Mr Marco chose six of the hats and wrote down the stock numbers and description for her. He departed, leaving the two he hadn’t needed on the counter. Marion checked the list and the hats – everything was correct. She returned the hats to the stockroom and then went back to her counter, serving three customers before she was told to take her break.
As she went downstairs, intending to pop into the basement and speak to Fred Burrows, she saw Janice coming in the front door. She had clearly been shopping in her lunch break and was carrying several bags. Her eyes met Marion’s and the look she gave her spoke volumes; if looks could kill, Marion would be stone dead!
Janice saw the expression in Marion’s eyes and grinned inwardly. Good, the smug little bitch was afraid of her! If she wasn’t now, she would be by the time Janice had finished – the other snooty bitch too, and Mrs High and Mighty Burrows. She hated them all, looking down on her as if she were something the cat had dragged in.
She knew they talked about her behind her back. She was sure that Maggie and Marion Kaye had plotted together to get her demoted to the ground floor. Well, damn them all! She would get even before she left. She’d already helped herself to as much stuff from Harpers as she could get her hands on. It was amazing how careless some of the staff were, turning their backs on her to serve a customer because they thought she was to be trusted. She’d doubled her wages most weeks since she’d been here and now she was ready to move on. Not that she’d found another job in London this time – they all wanted references and she hadn’t been able to sneak into the manager’s office to steal a piece of headed paper, as she’d done at her previous jobs.
A sneer touched her mouth. That stupid old Stockbridge had sent for references from the address she’d given him, and when Janice sent the reply herself, he’d been completely taken in. Because she knew exactly what time the post was delivered each day, Janice had excused herself for a bathroom break and looked for the genuine letter from her last employer. She’d known they would stamp it with their logo and it had been easy enough to remove the genuine letter from the porter’s rack in the basement and destroy it, replacing it with the glowing report she’d written herself.
That Fred Burrows had looked at her oddly a couple of times, but he was always too busy to take too much notice and once, when he’d inquired what she wanted, she’d fooled him by asking if she could be of any help by taking the post up to the department. He’d thanked her and refused her offer, but he hadn’t been there when she filched the letter that would have exposed her – and the young lad was too busy reading his comic to bother.
Janice found that in most places she worked the staff were careless, making it easy for her to take what she wanted from stock or sometimes cash, if they left the tea money lying about. However, things weren’t going her way this time. No employer would give her a job without a reference and she’d found it impossible to get one here. Mrs Craven had told her she hadn’t worked for Harpers long enough to have deserved a reference from them yet and Janice had her own reasons for not approaching the manager. She wasn’t ready to hand in her notice yet, and when she did leave, it would be in a hurry, straight after she collected her wages from the office at lunchtime, as usual on a Friday. Why should she work out her notice and risk getting caught? No, she would have to move on quickly once she’d finished what she had planned for Harpers, perhaps out of London.
An unpleasant smile touched her mouth. She’d been on a farewell tour of the shops she knew were easy to rob, filling her bags with stolen goods. In Selfridges that morning, an alert floor walker had been eyeing her for a while and she’d had to leave without taking anything there, but most other shops just accepted she was a busy shopper and she’d got a good haul to sell to her fence before she went off to Birmingham or Manchester, another big town anyway.
Janice would have a nice little nest egg to see her through until she’d reinvented herself; it was easy to fool some folk and half of them didn’t check references. However, she wasn’t finished with Harpers yet – or those mean bitches in the bag and jewellery department. She intended to have something of theirs, even though they checked everything so carefully. It was a matter of thieves’ honour that she got something from the ones she hated most, just to cause them a problem, if nothing more…
Marion was asked to cover for Maggie while she went to lunch. She served a gentleman with a scarf and some gloves and then hovered between the two counters. Three women came in and made for the hat counter and Marion went to serve them. She was busy but caught sight of a black dress from the corner of her eye and was just in time to see someone take a scarf from Maggie’s counter and stuff it in her bodice.
Unable to leave her customers, Maggie signalled frantically at her supervisor. Mrs Burrows had her back turned, because she too was busy serving and before Marion could do anything to stop her, the girl in the black dress had walked out of the department.
‘Excuse me, Madam, one moment…’ Marion said and went hurriedly to Mrs Burrows, whispering in her ear. She looked at her startled, nodded and told her to return to her customer. ‘I’m so sorry, it was important…’ Marion apologised and the customer smiled and said it was perfectly all right.
It was at least ten minutes before Marion was free to speak openly to her supervisor. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Burrows. I caught sight of her as she went to the counter from the corner of my eye. By the time I realised what she had done, she was gone. I couldn’t call out or stop her, but perhaps I should have done. I didn’t want to cause a fuss when we had so many customers…’
‘You are quite sure it was Miss Browning?’
‘Yes, it was,’ Marion said and tears were in her eyes. ‘I saw her come into the store earlier with bags of stuff and the look she gave me – she must have guessed we’d be just the two of us now, because Maggie was at lunch, and she took a chance we’d be too busy to stop her…’
‘We will ask Maggie to check her stock when she gets back.’
‘It was a light green silk,’ Marion said. ‘I’m so sorry. I should have shouted stop or something…’
‘You didn’t want to cause a fuss in front of customers,’ Mrs Burrows said and nodded. ‘You did the right thing, Marion – yet it seems so rash and impertinent to do it right under our noses.’
‘I could hardly believe she dare do it…’
‘No, nor I,’ Mrs Burrows agreed. ‘She obviously hoped to put the blame on you or Miss Gibbs.’ Janice had taken a chance she wouldn’t be noticed in the lunch-hour rush, because she knew the girls took it in turns to fetch their wages and have their break – or perhaps she no longer cared if she was seen?
When Maggie returned, she confirmed that a silk scarf in green and priced at thirty-five shillings had gone. ‘If you hadn’t caught sight of her, either you or I would have been blamed,’ Maggie said, frowning. ‘That is just what she wanted – but what a risk to take while customers were in the department…’
‘She counted on us being too busy to notice,’ Marion said, ‘and I only just saw her from the corner of my eye, because I had three customers and Mrs Burrows had two herself…’
‘She chose her moment cleverly,’ Maggie said. ‘Where is Mrs Burrows going?’ Their supervisor had waited for her return to leave the department.
‘She is going to report the incident to Mrs Craven,’ Marion said. ‘How did Janice dare to do it? I can’t understand her.’ She shook her head. ‘If they find it in her things, she could be arrested…’
‘She will be sacked immediately,’ Maggie agreed.
They both had customers then and all speculation was at an end. Maggie served on the bags, while Marion sold two hats. When Mrs Burrows returned, they were all busy for half an hour and it was only then that they learned the truth. Janice Browning had given in her notice, been paid her wages and left Harpers at lunchtime, immediately afterwards without serving her notice. As a last act of defiance and rebellion, she had taken her chance to steal the scarf in the hope of causing troub
le for the other girls in the department.
‘What will Mr Stockbridge do about it?’ Maggie asked, looking shocked.
‘I don’t know,’ Mrs Burrows said. ‘Mrs Craven thinks she will have got rid of the scarf and anything else she may have taken before the police could search her lodgings. She was looking for another job and she might even have moved. I’m not sure that the management will think it worthwhile to pursue her now that she has moved on.’ She frowned in annoyance. ‘And that was another lie she told us all – there was no sick grandmother. She is living in lodgings somewhere, so the police think…’
‘So, she will just get away with it…’ Maggie said in disgust.
‘If an employer asks Harpers for a reference, mention may be made – but perhaps not. After all, we cannot prove that she stole it, only that she left without serving her notice – which is bad enough. Marion saw her, but I fear it is only Marion’s word against hers as it stands…’
‘I should have shouted and made her stop,’ Marion said regretfully. ‘It could have been me, that’s what they’ll think…’ She lifted her head. ‘Will you search my things, Mrs Burrows?’
‘It isn’t necessary.’
‘Please,’ Marion’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I want you to be sure I didn’t take it and try to blame her…’
‘If you search Marion’s things, you should search mine too,’ Maggie said instantly.
‘I have no intention of searching either of you,’ their supervisor said. ‘We know who took the scarf and why – the police may need proof, but we don’t. Please do not let the incident upset either of you and now back to your counters.’