The Shop Girls of Harpers

by Rosie Clarke

  Sally had finished listing and her precious bags were safely inside cabinets that locked. She had begun to open the smallest cardboard boxes, which Beth could see contained costume jewellery. However, she was busy listing and arranging first her gloves and then the silk scarves. There were so many that she could not find a space for every pretty scarf and so she listed some as stockroom and took them through in their boxes.

  ‘What are you doing with those?’ Mrs Craven asked and Beth turned.

  ‘I’ve listed them as stockroom. I’ve filled all my drawers – and these will be fresh out when we’ve sold some…’

  ‘Yes, it’s a pity we cannot display every pretty scarf,’ Mrs Craven acknowledged. ‘However, I do not think we should mix them with other stock – providing you have every scarf listed properly?’

  ‘Yes, I have double-checked every item,’ Beth said, ‘and it is all in the stock book.’

  ‘Very well. Clear up all these boxes if you please – and then call into the porter’s room in the basement as you go for your lunch break. I shall allow ten minutes for you to ask Fred Burrows to come and take all this away.’

  Beth thanked her and decided that she would visit the restaurant that day and see what it would cost her to have a cup of tea. Her staff discount allowed for twenty per cent off all food and drink, but it might still be too expensive for her small budget.

  She found her way down to the basement and the porter’s room, which was just off the stores for china, glassware and other goods. A man of perhaps fifty was piling boxes on to a trolley and looked slightly harassed.

  ‘Hello, Mr Burrows. I’m Beth Grey from the first floor. Mrs Craven asks if you could fetch our empty boxes from the hat and scarves department please.’

  ‘I’ve got one pair of hands, young woman,’ the man replied and glared at her. ‘I’m still delivering goods at the moment – why they thought one porter was enough, I don’t know. I need a young lad to help me…’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Beth said, because she could see that he still had many boxes to deliver. ‘Perhaps I could give you a hand – I’ve got twenty minutes for my lunch break…?’

  ‘You’re sure you want to waste your time here?’ he asked, looking at her properly for the first time.

  ‘I’ll only have a cup of tea anyway…’

  ‘I’ll give you one of those,’ he said, calming down now he’d made his point. ‘Could you pass those small boxes to me? Me name is Fred, miss – though you’d best call me Burrows if anyone’s listening or they’ll think we’re courtin’.’ The wicked gleam in his eyes made Beth smile as she handed him the parcels one by one, saving him from walking in and out of his stockroom. ‘That’s the last for upstairs,’ he said when the trolley looked impossibly full. ‘I’ve got the kettle on and there’s milk – if you don’t mind the condensed sort?’

  ‘No, I don’t mind at all,’ Beth said and turned to watch as he poured water into a large brown pot. He swirled it around and left it while he put milk from a can into two mugs and then poured tea into them.

  ‘There you go, miss. You tell your supervisor I’ll be in to clear your boxes when I’ve delivered this lot to the gentleman’s department upstairs.’

  Beth nodded and drank her tea. Fred Burrows was a thin, wiry man with dark hair, grey eyes and thick eyebrows. He could never have been handsome but had a nice homely face and she felt comfortable with him now that he’d stopped being grumpy.

  ‘I’d better get back,’ she said when she’d finished her tea.

  ‘Before you go…’ Fred went over to his desk and picked up a box. ‘This is for your department. I only found it after I’d delivered the others…’

  ‘I’ll take it for you,’ Beth said, understanding that it was what he was asking. It would save him coming back for it – and he couldn’t get another thing on his trolley.

  She wished him luck and returned to the department. The box was labelled costume jewellery and so she took it to Sally’s counter.

  ‘What’s this?’ Sally asked, frowning.

  ‘Mr Burrows found it behind his desk after he’d delivered the boxes for our department and he is a little busy, so I brought it for him…’

  ‘The porter asked you to do his work for him?’ Mrs Craven had heard and looked annoyed. Beth realised it was best to keep quiet about how she’d spent her lunch break.

  ‘No, I volunteered,’ Beth said. ‘He is snowed under with work, Mrs Craven, but he said he will come for our boxes as soon as he’s delivered his next load.’

  ‘Very well,’ Mrs Craven acknowledged. She looked at the label on the box and then on her inventory. ‘This hasn’t been listed here – really, it isn’t good enough. Stock could go missing this way and then who would get the blame? It would be our department…’ She added the box to her list and marked it as being delivered at a certain time.

  Sally opened the box and started to take out the leather jewellery cases. When she opened them, Beth saw that each one contained an item of silver: bracelets, bangles, chains, brooches and lockets.

  ‘How lovely – especially these with the greenish stones…’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘What are they?’

  ‘Turquoise,’ Beth, Sally and Mrs Craven replied in unison.

  ‘My aunt has a brooch set with turquoise,’ Beth said.

  ‘I’ve seen them in Selfridges,’ Sally agreed, nodding.

  ‘I have a silver bracelet set with them at home,’ Mrs Craven finished, looking sad.

  Beth thought that perhaps her husband had given it to her but didn’t ask, because clearly the thought of the bracelet hurt.

  ‘I think they’re American,’ Sally added. ‘I think a lot of the silver jewellery is from America – or perhaps from Mexico…’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘Because they have a look – almost Aztec,’ Sally explained and then laughed as Maggie’s blank look deepened. ‘I’ve seen a display of Aztec jewellery at the museum…’

  ‘Do you often visit museums?’

  ‘Yes…’ Sally flushed. ‘It’s free and its warm and it’s somewhere to go on my day off…’

  ‘It’s your turn to take a break, Maggie,’ Mrs Craven said because an embarrassing silence had fallen. ‘Go along now… and Sally, you can finish listing that last lot of jewellery and then go yourself. Beth and I can tidy up here after that wretched porter deigns to visit us…’

  Beth thought Mrs Craven was being a little unfair to Fred Burrows, but she seemed a little on edge and it might have been because of the turquoises – or that Sally had let her mask slip a little, revealing the extent of her loneliness. Did their superior also feel alone now that her husband was dead? Beth would have liked to ask but knew she couldn’t; things like that were personal and you didn’t ask personal questions of your superior at work.

  Beth and Mrs Craven spent the next few minutes checking all the boxes to make certain that nothing had been left inside and also checking the inventories to make sure that all the stock was listed in the appropriate books.

  ‘Can you hold the fort while I have a break in my office?’ Mrs Craven asked at last. ‘I brought a flask of soup for today, because I didn’t want to leave the department. I’ll be close if you need me…’

  Beth assured her that she was fine on her own. All the hard work was done and she had time to wander around the counters, looking at the various displays of beautiful bags, fine costume jewellery, gorgeous hats – and then her own counter, which she already knew almost by heart. She still thought the silk scarf she’d listed as swirls was one of the prettiest and was thinking of moving it to a more prominent place in her open shelves when the door swung back and Fred Burrows pushed his trolley through.

  ‘All this lot ready to go then?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, we’ve checked it all,’ Beth said. ‘Nothing has been left inside by mistake.’

  ‘You’re doin’ better than most,’ Fred said and grinned at her. ‘I’ve rescued a silver-plated coffee pot from an
abandoned tea chest and a pile of best china plates – and them lot upstairs ain’t even got their counters straight yet…’

  Beth helped him to pile the last of the empty boxes just as Mrs Craven returned to the department.

  He leaned into Beth, whispering, ‘Don’t you go payin’ restaurant prices for your tea, miss. Fred’s always got a pot on the go and there’ll be one for you whenever you like…’

  Beth thanked him, her cheeks a little red as Mrs Craven glanced at her.

  ‘Mr Burrows, I’d like a word with you…’

  ‘Know what you’re goin’ to say…’ he forestalled her. ‘I’ve left the invoice on the counter so you can keep it for your files, Mrs Craven.’

  ‘Very well – but it might have been serious. That jewellery was expensive.’

  ‘That’s why I put it safe,’ Fred explained and winked at Beth. ‘Tucked it behind my desk and forgot it when I brought the rest – but this young lady gave me a hand by bringing it up. All right?’

  ‘Yes – but don’t expect my staff to do your job in future, Mr Burrows.’

  ‘No, ma’am, certainly not…’ He grinned at Beth as he left and Beth saw a flicker of a smile in her superior’s eyes.

  ‘I didn’t mind bringing it up,’ she said.

  ‘Best not to make a habit of it – supposing you’d lost it?’

  Beth nodded, because she knew her superior was right. ‘He had so much to do. I should think he’ll still be delivering stock tomorrow…’

  ‘Yes, well, just be sensible, Miss Grey…’ Her superior sighed. ‘I suppose you have noticed that he speaks better than most porters?’

  ‘Well yes, he does,’ Beth agreed.

  ‘He was a schoolmaster but dismissed from his post for some misdemeanour – not that I’ve been told what it was. Mr Burrows was never arrested or charged with anything, but still… one must be careful…’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, but he seems honest and pleasant…’

  ‘I agree and I shall give him the benefit of the doubt, but be aware, Miss Grey. That is all I am saying.’

  Beth did not need to reply for the other girls had arrived back together, which meant that Maggie was a few minutes over her time. Mrs Craven looked at her watch and frowned but said nothing, though a few moments later she spoke to the junior privately. Beth saw the younger girl flush and apologise; she’d been enjoying her time with Sally and forgotten the rules about being back on time.

  They were all admiring each other’s counters and asking various prices when Miss Hart walked in. Instinctively, they all went to stand behind their counters.

  ‘I see you have everything done,’ she said. ‘No one else is as far on – I hope that stock has all been written up in the appropriate ledgers?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Hart,’ Mrs Craven assured her instantly. ‘We are all making ourselves familiar with the stock so that if necessary we could stand in for each other during breaks or in the unfortunate circumstance that any member of staff is away ill.’

  ‘That is one of the reasons I am here,’ Miss Hart said. ‘The junior in the ladies dress department has not turned up – and, since you are so far on, I want to borrow Miss Gibbs to help them out. Also, I need to remind you that there is a meeting at four thirty. Mr Stockbridge wants you all in the restaurant to give you a welcome talk – and we’re hoping that Mr Harper may attend…’

  ‘Miss Gibbs may help for a short time, but her place is here, Miss Hart. I would appreciate it if you remember that…’ Mrs Craven suddenly realised what the floor supervisor had said. ‘Mr Harper – the store’s owner – is here in London?’

  ‘He arrived in London yesterday and the window dresser has been to his hotel. When Mr Marco returned, he re-dressed two of the windows. Now Mr Harper wishes to address the staff in person. Please make sure that none of your girls is wearing make-up or perfume or jewellery, Mrs Craven.’ Her narrow-set eyes went over all the girls, lingering longest on Beth. ‘That is not your uniform, Miss Grey.’

  ‘No, Miss Hart. I wanted it to be clean for tomorrow…’

  Miss Hart nodded and frowned. ‘It will do, I suppose – but you are all supposed to be dressed alike. Please make certain you wear the required uniform in future. A black dress is not good enough; it must be the same style and material – and it is better to order one from me than buy elsewhere.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Hart,’ Beth said meekly. She sighed inwardly for it meant she could not use the dress she was wearing for work and would have to purchase another uniform quickly or sponge the one she had every night.

  ‘Very well,’ the floor walker nodded primly. ‘Miss Gibbs, come with me…’

  Maggie threw a despairing glance at Beth but followed in the wake of the grim-faced floor walker. She looked as if she were being marched to her doom and Sally gave a little giggle as they left the department.

  ‘Poor Maggie,’ she said. ‘But she’s lucky. I wouldn’t mind giving them a hand in the dress department.’

  ‘I think Miss Gibbs is a little in awe of our floor walker,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘Miss Ross – please keep your pet names for after work. It might slip out in front of customers and that could result in a complaint.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Craven. I am sorry…’ Sally looked suitably remorseful.

  ‘I’m surprised Mr Harper is coming,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘I asked Mr Stockbridge about him, but they haven’t actually met – only spoken on the telephone. Apparently, he was approached by a lawyer and given the task of setting up the store and hiring the staff. I think quite a bit of the merchandise has been sourced in America – and other countries – and been shipped in ready priced. Like your silver jewellery, Miss Ross. Some of it is quite stunning…’

  ‘Miss Hart said Mr Harper only arrived in the country yesterday?’

  ‘Yes, that was a little odd…’ Mrs Craven replied and frowned. ‘As I was saying, much of the stock must be American.’

  ‘I think the jewellery will make a wonderful display,’ Sally said thoughtfully. ‘But unless the customers take to it, it may not sell…’

  ‘Some of it is a little bold for my taste,’ Beth agreed. She hadn’t liked to offer an opinion previously. ‘As you say, Miss Ross – it could be all the rage and we’ll sell out quickly or it may just sit there.’

  ‘I think we should have a display of it in the window,’ Sally replied, ‘but Mr Marco would never listen to me… or I don’t think so…’ Remembering his wink, she wondered if he might.

  ‘You should not even suggest it,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘Mr Marco will tell you what he wants when he decides to feature merchandise from this department. I do not think he has requested anything yet…’

  ‘Well, I think he’s wasting an opportunity…’

  ‘He may well have his own stock,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘Just at the start. It’s what I’m looking forward to, seeing the blinds taken down so we can view the windows.’

  ‘I’ve seen people trying to peer round the edges,’ Beth said, ‘but it isn’t possible.’

  ‘It’s an idea they’ve copied from Selfridges,’ Sally said. ‘It should bring in a little crowd in the morning to see the displays revealed – and hopefully they will all come inside and buy something.’

  ‘Oh, we shall be busy for the first week or so for the novelty,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘I am confident that once the customers see the quality they will keep coming.’

  Beth looked at her. ‘All the big stores in Oxford Street seem to be busy. I’ve only been up a few times before I applied to work here – and I thought they were all successful.’

  ‘The big stores have huge turnovers, but they need it – for the rents, expenses and wages. To make a profit at the end of the year they have to have a better than average rate of sales. Otherwise their balance sheets will soon be in the red…’ She saw Beth’s puzzled look and smiled. ‘I ran a small haberdashers for a few months before I came here and I learned how slender the margins can be in the retail area. If we have too much spoiled merchandise or items th
at do not sell… we shall need to have a big sale after Christmas and that can be difficult for a business like this… However, I am certain that our owner is well aware what a business like this needs. I believe he has several stores in America.’

  ‘I think people will love the stock. I do…’

  Mrs Craven smiled. ‘I like what I’ve seen so far – though I’m not sure we’re the right end of Oxford Street for some of it. We must hope that the ladies who can afford real crocodile handbags don’t mind walking to this end…’

  Beth went to the restaurant for her tea break. She discovered that for staff it was only tuppence for a cup of tea and a biscuit and another tuppence for a currant bun. She could manage on a bun until her evening meal most days, though if she went out in her lunch break she could do better from Bessie’s.

  By four thirty that afternoon, all the girls were familiar with the stock in their department. Maggie returned just as they were all going up to hear what the manager had to say. Most people were curious whether the owner would actually turn up to welcome them. Beth heard a whisper that he was disfigured and Sally said someone had told her that he was very old, while Maggie had been told he was a recluse and refused to be seen in public because he was so ugly.

  Mr Stockbridge began by thanking them all for their hard work and asking them all to be in early the next morning for the big opening.

  ‘Mr Harper is giving a prize of five guineas to the first customer – and a surprise to customer number one hundred, but only the staff know that. Also, the assistant who makes the biggest single sale will be given a bonus in their wages this Saturday. Every…’

  His next words were lost in the murmur of excitement and approval and several of the men began to look about them. ‘When shall we see him?’ one of the men from the glassware department asked.

  ‘He should be here at any moment… Now, as I was saying, every customer who comes through the door tomorrow will be offered a glass of champagne. Some of the assistants will be acting as waiters for the day –you know who you are.’ He looked at them expectantly. ‘Any questions?’