by Rosie Clarke
‘Thanks, Sally,’ her friend said. ‘I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. You’ve done enough for me and I will repay you.’
‘Vera said be careful you don’t leave it too long, because if you’re too far advanced it can be dangerous…’
Sylvia looked anxious. ‘I’m not sure how far on I am.’ She shrugged. ‘I can’t have it anyway so I’ve got no choice.’
‘I wish I could do more…’ Sally said, feeling anxious for her. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No, it’s all right, I’m not frightened,’ Sylvia said. ‘When it’s over, we’ll go out somewhere together on me – the theatre. I like a bit of music hall…’
‘Yes, so do I,’ Sally agreed with a smile, ‘but it’s no fun alone, you need someone to go with…’
‘Yeah – so we’ll go together,’ Sylvia promised. ‘I’m off bloody men for good…’
Sally smiled and left to return to her own room. She’d delivered the address Vera had given her and now it was up to Sylvia. It was only as she sat down on the bed in her own room that she realised she would have to acknowledge Irish Mick in future. He’d saved her from a beating at the very least, and perhaps worse. Sally hadn’t thanked him properly, but she would when she next saw him, though she wouldn’t tell him why she’d been in Soho – it wasn’t his business. Momentarily, she wondered what he was doing there, but then forgot it, because it wasn’t her concern.
Sally was more than tired as she crawled into bed. It had been a busy day and she could have done without the trip into Soho, but she had wanted to help Sylvia and she had. Now she could forget it and think about the future.
Sally saw Mick the next morning when she left for work. He was waiting for her in the pub doorway and crossed over to speak to her. She couldn’t ignore him after what he’d done to help her, so she stopped and looked at him warily.
‘I’m sorry, can’t stop – I have a bus to catch…’
‘I know. You’ve plenty of time,’ he said and his Irish accent was more obvious than the previous evening when he’d been angry. He was smiling and easy, more like his normal self. ‘I was just wantin’ to ask how you feel this lovely mornin’, Sally Ross.’
Sally was nervous, unsure she wanted to be talking to him like this. ‘Who told you my name?’
‘Oh, I have my ways,’ he said and grinned. ‘As long as you’re no worse for your nasty experience?’
‘Of course I’m all right,’ Sally snapped. ‘You stopped that brute in time and I’m grateful. I am truly. It was foolish of me to go there, but I had to – I needed some information for a friend…’
‘Well now, couldn’t you have been after askin’ meself?’ he said. ‘Anything you need to know, I’m your man… don’t you be forgettin’ that in future.’ His eyes lit with a teasing smile that made her cheeks flame.
‘That is kind of you,’ Sally said, ‘but I’ve no intention of going there again…’
‘Sensible girl – more so if you hadn’t gone in the first place.’ His gaze narrowed intently. ‘If it’s yourself in trouble…’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she said quickly. ‘Now, please excuse me – I must catch that tram…’
Mick stood aside to let her pass and Sally hurried to the end of the lane and walked the few steps to the tram. She was only there a few seconds when it came round the corner, its bell clanging. Jumping on board, she breathed a sigh of relief and then laughed at herself. Sally knew she had no reason to fear Mick; he might be more familiar than she liked, but he would never harm her. She’d seen warmth in his gaze and understood that he liked her, but Sally wasn’t interested in a man who worked as a barman. She wanted more out of life…
12
Beth noticed that Maggie looked pale and upset when she arrived for work on that Thursday morning. She had customers almost at once and it was not until they were told to take their break for lunch that she had time to ask her if anything was wrong. Maggie’s eyes filled with tears, but she brushed them away and gulped as Beth handed her a handkerchief.
‘It’s my father,’ she gasped. ‘Oh, Beth, it was so terrible. He was in so much pain that he was crying with it and we had to fetch the doctor to him in the middle of the night…’
‘I am so very sorry,’ Beth said sympathetically. ‘I could see that you were very upset, but it is understandable when your father is so ill…’ She took a deep breath. ‘I lost mine when I was still a child. I looked after my mother until she died some months ago. It is a very sad and painful time when someone you love is suffering…’
‘I feel so helpless,’ Maggie confessed. ‘The doctor said that all he could do was to give my father more of the drug that eases him… but if we give him too much he might die.’
‘That is an awful situation for you and your mother,’ Beth replied sadly. ‘And is there nothing more anyone can do for him?’
‘He hurt his spine in an accident and his firm are supposed to pay him compensation because it was their fault – but that doesn’t make up for the pain, does it? Besides, I don’t think they’ve paid anything yet.’
‘It doesn’t help your father in the least,’ Beth said. ‘Money might help your mother to pay the bills, but it is your father who suffers – and both of you with him.’
Maggie nodded but said nothing. She wiped her face. ‘I know crying won’t help, but your sympathy brought the tears, Beth. My mother just doesn’t seem to care about anyone but herself…’ She drew a sharp breath. ‘Oh, that is so awful of me and it isn’t true. I’m sure it’s the worry that makes her so harsh all the time.’
‘Yes, people do become harsh when they’re worried,’ Beth said. ‘I’m really sorry, Maggie. Would you like me to ask Mrs Craven if you can go home early?’
‘No, please don’t,’ Maggie said. ‘I was lucky to get this job and I don’t want to lose it, even though Muma doesn’t think the wage is very much – and I’m happier here than at home. I love my father, but he’s either in pain or asleep… and my mother is always grumbling at me.’
‘Yes, I do understand, more than you might think,’ Beth said. ‘My mother was often unwell and spent most of her time sleeping.’ And the rest complaining!
‘I do love Muma in my way… but just not as much as my father…’ Maggie sniffed and handed Beth her handkerchief. ‘Should I wash it for you and bring it back?’
‘I’ll wash it at home,’ Beth said with a smile. ‘I know there isn’t much I can do to help, but I can listen if you want…’
‘Thank you,’ Maggie said and glanced at the big silver-dialled clock on the restaurant wall. ‘We’d better go back or we might be late. I don’t want to be fined on my very first week.’
‘No, nor do I,’ Beth agreed. ‘I shall only just make my wage last out as it is…’ Maggie looked at her and she pulled a wry face. ‘My aunt takes half of my wage for my board and lodgings…’
‘Oh, that’s rather a lot, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose I’ve been living there for a few months and not paid for more than some shopping…’ Beth smothered a sigh. ‘It was hard enough when my mother was alive, but when she died, I was left with very little and that has all gone so I can’t make a change even if I wanted to…’
‘My mother spoke of taking a lodger in, but she was only going to charge five shillings for bed and breakfast.’
‘I have my evening meal too,’ Beth reminded her. ‘My aunt’s request isn’t excessive. I know I couldn’t afford to live anywhere else.’
‘Sally wants a flat of her own and she suggested that I might move in with her,’ Maggie said, ‘but my mother would never let me…’
‘I think it would be expensive, unless there were at least four sharing – and one would have to be a widow, so that it was respectable.’
‘Sally said it didn’t matter,’ Maggie said and a little frown creased her forehead. ‘Why does it make it more respectable if a woman is a widow?’
‘It just does, that’s all,’ Beth said and laughed. ‘You
r mother would be shocked if you said the three of us wanted to live in a flat on our own, wouldn’t she?’
‘Yes, I know, but can you see why?’ Maggie asked. ‘If we are all respectable girls, where can the harm be?’
‘In other women’s minds I’m afraid. We should be thought fast,’ Beth suggested with a smile. ‘Come on, we’d better hurry or we shall be late…’
Sally was serving a middle-aged lady with a leather handbag when she saw the woman enter the department and her heart sank. She couldn’t be mistaken; it was the street walker she’d met in Soho a couple of evenings previously. She’d tried to erase the memory and begun to forget the unpleasant experience she’d had there, but now it came back as she saw Vera make a beeline for her counter.
‘Ah, miss,’ Vera said. ‘I was wondering if you could show me a silver bangle like my friend bought on the day you opened please.’
Sally remembered exactly which bangle Mave had bought, but there wasn’t another just the same. ‘These are all individual pieces,’ she said, ‘but I think this might be the nearest to the one you’re seeking…’
Vera’s gaze came up and registered both shock and recognition, but she recovered instantly as Sally brought out the bangle. ‘Yes, miss,’ she said. ‘That is almost the same but just a little different – the stones are smaller. What are they called please?’
‘Turquoises,’ Sally said and prayed that Vera would not mention their previous meeting. ‘This bangle is cheaper than the one your friend bought – it is seventeen shillings and sixpence.’ And that was still more than many working girls could afford to pay.
‘I like it better,’ Vera said. ‘Can I have it in a fancy box please? It isn’t for me, it’s for my sister. She lives in the country and she won’t have seen anything like this before.’ Vera winked at Sally. ‘She’ll think it’s posh and that her big sister is rich.’
‘I doubt many people in this country have seen this type of jewellery,’ Sally said. ‘The line is exclusive to Harpers and was recently imported into the country. I hope your sister likes it.’
‘She will,’ the other woman said and grinned as she offered the exact payment. ‘Thanks very much, love – and don’t worry, Vera ain’t no snitch…’
Sally kept a straight face as she handed her the little bag with the distinctive logo. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘We are grateful for your custom.’
‘Bye, then,’ Vera said, ‘take care of yerself…’ She winked again and walked off, almost walking straight into Miss Hart. The superior floor walker looked down her nose at her as if she were something the cat had fetched in. ‘Watch out, missus, yer face’ll crack if yer smile…’
Sally caught her breath as she saw the outrage in Miss Hart’s eyes. The floor walker came straight up to her, her expression sour. ‘Was that a friend of yours, Miss Ross?’
‘No, Miss Hart, just a customer. She bought a silver bangle…’
‘I’m not sure we wish to encourage women like that into the store…’ Miss Hart sniffed disapprovingly.
‘I was told to serve everyone in the same manner when I worked at Selfridges, but if you are ordering me not to serve a common woman…?’ Sally left the question hanging and looked as innocent as she could.
Miss Hart glared at her. ‘Nothing of the kind! We are here to serve and I suppose her money is as good as the next person’s – but you should be careful not to allow familiarity, Miss Ross. It would be unwise to be seen to fraternise with a woman of that sort…’
‘Is something wrong?’ Mrs Craven asked as she approached. ‘I was just about to ask you to take over the department while I have my break, Miss Ross.’ Her eyes met Miss Hart’s glare. ‘I feel happy to leave the department to Miss Ross – unless you wish to remain while I take my break, Miss Hart?’
‘No, I have other things to do. Excuse me, Mrs Craven – Miss Ross, I shall be watching…’
‘What happened?’ Mrs Craven asked after she’d gone.
‘She thought one of the customers was too friendly, that’s all,’ Sally answered but blushed.
‘She is right, Miss Ross – even if I do not like the way she speaks to you and Maggie, I must agree that you should be careful. However, I do not think you encouraged that young woman to be familiar, though she appeared to know you.’
‘It was merely that I had served her friend with a bangle and she wanted one similar.’ Sally didn’t enjoy lying to Mrs Craven, but she couldn’t tell her the truth. What Sylvia was planning to do was illegal and Sally had broken the law by giving her the address of the back-street abortionist. Her supervisor would think she had been very foolish and perhaps she had, because if Mick hadn’t happened to be there when she was attacked… It was odd that he was, Sally’s thoughts switched as Mrs Craven went off to take her break. What had Mick been doing in that part of London?
She dismissed the question as a smart young woman entered the department and walked towards her. ‘I should like to buy a handbag – I want a good one. I’ve seen something I like in the window… Ah yes, that red one there…’
Sally took the bag from the cabinet. It was one of the less expensive bags and the customer took a long time to make up her mind. Beth had two customers, which left Maggie to serve a middle-aged lady with a hat. Sally couldn’t see what was going on properly because she was busy showing her customer various bags, but when she finally settled on the first red one, Sally saw that the woman had at least ten hats on the counter and was pointing at another in the cabinet, clearly asking to try it on. Since Sally was free, she walked over to join Maggie, who looked pink and flustered.
‘Can we help you to decide, madam?’ she asked and smiled at Maggie. ‘Please put these away, Miss Gibbs, while I attend to this customer – you wanted a black hat, I think?’
Maggie hurried to tidy away the rejected offerings, clearly relieved that Sally had taken over.
‘Well, yes, or a grey one,’ the customer said. ‘Nothing frivolous, because it’s for a funeral, but I want to be able to wear it for work. I can’t afford these fancy prices…’ she frowned at a ticket of two guineas.
Sally glanced around the cabinets and stands and spotted a black cloche with a plain ribbon band. She knew it was priced at twelve shillings and swooped on it.
‘Now this would suit you well, madam –it is a perfect shape for your face.’
Sally offered the hat and the customer took it, glanced at the price and then tried it on. It suited her well, but she frowned and drew her mouth in and then looked at the ticket again.
‘Yes, well, I think this might do,’ she acknowledged. ‘Twelve shillings – far more sensible than that the other girl showed me, though still expensive. I normally pay seven and sixpence at the most! I thought this shop would be more reasonable than Selfridges, but some of your prices are ridiculous.’
‘Yes, a little expensive for this end of town,’ Sally agreed with her. ‘I think Mr Harper wanted to give our customers a wider choice – and we do have all prices in stock of most things.’
‘You seem a sensible young woman,’ the customer said and shot a look of malice at poor Maggie. ‘I think it very foolish to leave an untrained girl in charge of a counter like this…’
‘Miss Gibbs is a junior and learning,’ Sally said smoothly. She whisked the customer’s money away in the cash dispenser and packed the hat into a smart box. ‘I do hope you will be pleased with your purchase, madam.’
The customer was admiring the box, which was striking and looked mollified. ‘It’s a good thing you’re in charge here,’ she said as Sally counted her change out. ‘The hat is lovely quality, even though it’s too much money. I dare say I shall shop here again and tell my friends.’
‘Please do,’ Sally said and smiled.
‘Thank you,’ Maggie said, coming up to her as the customer disappeared through the glass doors and they swung to after her. ‘She terrified me. I just didn’t know what to do…’
‘All bark and no bite,’ Sally said and laughed. S
he picked up one of the hats that Maggie had not tidied away yet just as Mrs Craven walked in through the opposite door. Her back to her supervisor, she laughed at Maggie as she put the hat on and pretended to admire her reflection in the mirror. ‘I’m not sure it is my colour – have you something else in a paler shade and not too expensive. Oh, and more veiling, I need more veiling…’
‘Miss Ross!’ the sharp tones of the floor walker made Sally freeze. She took off the hat as she turned to meet the cold gaze fixed on her. ‘What do you imagine you’re doing? These hats are not to be played with – and if you’ve damaged it, you will be fined…’ Miss Hart snatched up the expensive hat and looked at it. ‘As I thought, the silk is torn just here – you will be fined two shillings a week until you have paid its price…’
‘Just a moment,’ Mrs Craven spoke from behind the floor walker. ‘I believe you are mistaken, Miss Hart. I asked Miss Ross to try on that particular hat as I am thinking of buying it for a friend. May I see the tear?’
Miss Hart glared at her and handed her the hat. One little fold of tulle had frayed out slightly and Mrs Craven tucked it back in place; there was no actual damage.
‘There, nothing is harmed,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘I shall be purchasing this hat – so there is no need to penalise Miss Ross for this slight mishap.’
‘Well!’ Miss Hart looked as if she might explode and walked off angrily.
Mrs Craven waited until she’d gone and then raised her brows at Sally. ‘What was that all about?’
‘It was my fault,’ Maggie said hastily. ‘Sally helped me with a difficult customer. I told her I was terrified and she was just teasing me, pretending to be a fussy customer…’ Her cheeks went bright red. ‘I’m sorry…’ She looked to be on the verge of tears.
‘Miss Hart is rather particular,’ Mrs Craven said in a flat tone. ‘However, I have to agree that the assistants are not supposed to try on the merchandise for fun. It was not wise, Miss Ross. Luckily, no damage was done this time and I did always intend to purchase the hat, but…’