by Rosie Clarke
‘I wish I could.’ Maggie sighed. ‘Muma expects me to be there – she pops out to see her friend on Sunday afternoon. She says it’s the only chance she has to have some time to herself…’
‘It’s a pity,’ Sally said. ‘I like you, Maggie, and I’d like to share a flat with you – Beth too, if she would…’
‘Beth’s aunt expects her to help out at home,’ Maggie said. ‘I think she gets nagged if she’s late back.’
‘I don’t have anyone to care what time I get in,’ Sally said. ‘I always thought it would be lovely to have a family – but I sometimes wonder if I’m better off being free to do as I please.’
‘I’d rather live at home than in a hostel,’ Maggie told her. ‘You’ve told me it’s not very nice. At least Muma keeps everywhere spotless. She never used to nag as much before Poppa had his accident, but she’s changed a lot since then.’
‘I suppose it’s worry,’ Sally said and Maggie’s eyes stung with sudden tears.
‘I don’t mind so much for me – but I hate it when she hurts my dad’s feelings. I’ve seen it in his eyes and I want to shout at her to stop, but he shakes his head at me and I know arguing would make things worse.’
‘Nothing is straightforward, is it?’ Sally’s eyes flicked across the café as she saw two girls come in. ‘Don’t look over there, Maggie. I don’t want her to notice us…’
Maggie wasn’t sure what she meant, but then the two girls came up to their table. ‘So this is where yer get to,’ one of the girls said with a nasty little sneer. Maggie instinctively disliked her. ‘You don’t mind if we share yer table – all the others are full…’
Sally got to her feet at once. ‘As a matter of fact, I do,’ she said. ‘Come on, Miss Gibbs, we’re leaving. I’m not sure why, but there’s a bit of a stink in here now…’
Maggie felt herself flushing hotly. She saw a look of hatred in the other girl’s eyes and allowed Sally to lead her up to the counter to pay.
‘Who was that?’ she asked as they went outside. The sky was clouding over and it felt as if there might be some rain before long. ‘I didn’t bring a coat. I hope it doesn’t rain before we get back…’
‘Her name is Jean – I don’t know her friend – but she is a nasty piece of work. If she approaches you when you’re on your own just ignore her, Maggie.’
‘I wouldn’t want to know her,’ Maggie assured her. ‘We should find somewhere else to have our sandwiches for a while.’
‘I’m not going to let her scare me off,’ Sally said. ‘If she causes trouble I’ll ask Bessie’s husband to get her to leave next time.’
Maggie nodded. Her mother had always warned her to stay clear of that kind of girl at school.
‘Common girls! They use bad language and they can be violent,’ Mrs Gibbs had told her daughter. ‘We’re a decent family and we keep ourselves to ourselves – so mind what I say and have nothing to do with that sort.’
Maggie would certainly stay away from Jean and her friend. If Sally hadn’t been with her, she would have been too embarrassed to just get up and walk away. If she had to take her lunch break alone, she thought she might try somewhere else, even if she could only afford a cup of tea.
Sally frowned as she tidied her hair in the cloakroom. Jean had deliberately chosen their table just to make things awkward for her. She was spiteful and a bad enemy and Sally wondered if she ought to think of moving away from the hostel where she was staying. Yet it was close enough to Oxford Street to be a cheap bus ride in the morning and she could walk home at night, providing it wasn’t pouring with rain. If she moved she might have to go much further afield to find anything as cheap.
If Beth and Maggie were able to share a small flat with her, she would leave the hostel in a heartbeat, but they were both tied to their homes. She wouldn’t mind sharing with Mrs Craven, although perhaps that wouldn’t do because her supervisor might feel it was inappropriate. Sighing, she thrust Jean’s spiteful leer out of her mind and focused on the meeting with Mr Harper that night. What would he have to say?
14
The three girls and Mrs Craven stood together close to the back of the room. They’d stopped to clear everything up before they came and only just avoided being late because customers had seemed to crowd in just before closing time.
‘I hope everyone is here,’ Mr Stockbridge said as they joined at the back. ‘Please everyone, be quiet now, because Mr Harper wants to talk to you all…’
The attractive young man moved forward and took a moment to look round at all the expectant faces. ‘I’m pleased to tell you that I have some good news for you, ladies and gentlemen. The opening week went well, better than even I hoped.’ His eyes moved round the room. ‘Our situation is this – my uncle bequeathed me a forty-nine per cent holding in Harpers of Oxford Street, and my sister has thirty-one percent. My aunt holds the balance and they have agreed they are happy for me to continue to manage the store.’
There was a sound as of an indrawn breath as everyone felt relief at the news.
‘And are you planning to continue to run the store – or will you sell as soon as you can make a profit?’ one of the bolder men asked.
‘I don’t foresee that happening,’ Ben Harper said. ‘As long as I can make it grow, I prefer to run the business rather than take my capital and run.’ He smiled in Sally’s direction, or so she thought. ‘The sales thus far have been encouraging – particularly in the millinery and ladies’ goods department. Fashion is just behind and the ground floor is holding its own – it seems the English gentlemen are reluctant to take the lift to the upper floor and the sales there are lagging a little.’
‘Lazy devils, men,’ a woman’s voice said and someone sniggered next to her.
‘Perhaps we ought to rearrange the departments,’ Ben Harper said, ‘but we’ll give things time to settle. Mr Stockbridge will be announcing a bonus system in the next few days and I hope that may encourage the gentlemen upstairs to be more energetic in their efforts.’
‘Most of ’em round here think as we’re too expensive,’ one of the men said. ‘Some of the suits belong in Knightsbridge rather than the wrong end of Oxford Street. We can’t sell them because they’re too dear.’
‘I shall be asking the heads of departments to give me a report on sales at the end of the first month,’ Ben Harper pounced on his comment. ‘Any opinions on stock, prices or the window displays will be listened to carefully. I may be re-organising the display team and I shall put out a suggestion box so that anyone can post their ideas.’ His gaze moved over them once more and seemed to linger where Sally, Beth and the others were grouped. ‘Are there any questions?’
‘What do we do if certain items sell out?’ Sally spoke out then and his gaze rested firmly on her. ‘The silver jewellery has sold well, even though it’s a bit expensive, and we need fresh stock if we want to keep selling at the same rate.’
‘Your name is?’ he questioned, his gaze intent now.
‘Miss Ross,’ Sally said. ‘Certain items have sold out and we need to replace them – but not necessarily with the exact same thing. Can you source the silver bangles easily?’
‘Yes, I believe so,’ Ben Harper replied and smiled. ‘My sister, Miss Jenni Harper, chose the silver jewellery and the bags – and I could arrange for her to visit the department and speak to you about it.’
‘I think we need to replenish the stock soon,’ Sally said and then blushed as everyone looked at her. ‘But some of the departments aren’t as busy and that might be down to the stock…’
‘That is what I wanted to hear.’ Ben Harper’s eyes seemed to smile as they dwelled on Sally. ‘I’ve worked in my uncle’s stores in New York for three years, but London is a different market and I need to learn what sells here. Jenni is in charge of the buying for all the stores – but she’s over here in England at the moment, sourcing British goods for the store in New York.’
‘Why can’t we have more British goods here?’ one of the men ask
ed.
Ben Harper turned to discuss the possibility with the speaker and Maggie looked at Sally. ‘I wouldn’t have dared to speak up like that,’ she said admiringly. ‘You’re so brave, Sally.’
‘It needed to be said,’ Sally murmured softly. ‘Besides, some of the stock just isn’t suitable for our customers and I think a lot of it is in the men’s department. British men want the same thing they always buy and some of the things, well, they’re a bit too natty for our men’s more conservative taste…’ Most men Sally saw in the streets looked less than smart in their crumpled trousers and jackets and they would consider the American stuff too flashy with its wide lapels and fancy binding. Only a few had their trousers crisply pressed, because that needed to be done every day and cheap material quickly went shiny and baggy at the knees.
Maggie giggled and then flushed as Miss Hart glanced at her severely.
‘Careful, Maggie love,’ Sally hissed. ‘You don’t want her getting her claws into you too.’
The meeting had broken up and everyone began to file out. Miss Hart made a beeline for Sally, her expression one of outrage.
‘How dare you speak out like that, Miss Ross?’ she demanded. ‘Mr Harper wanted to hear from senior staff – not the likes of you…’
Sally stared at her but made no reply. She was about to walk on when someone caught her arm. Turning, she saw Mr Harper smiling at her.
‘If you’re not in too much of a hurry, Miss Ross? I should like you to give me ten minutes of your time… in my office please.’ His voice carried a hint of command and everyone wondered if Sally was in trouble.
She went with him obediently and Miss Hart turned her baleful gaze on Maggie. ‘She won’t last here,’ she said spitefully. ‘She’ll be out on her ear before six months is up – or end up where girls like her usually do, in the gutter… and you’d be well advised not to follow her lead!’
Maggie gasped at the floor walker’s spite but said nothing. She was grateful when Mrs Craven touched her arm, shaking her head.
‘Why does she dislike Sally so much?’ Maggie asked Mrs Craven.
‘Take no notice of her, Miss Gibbs. I think our floor supervisor has just had her nose put out a little and she is letting off steam…’ Or perhaps it was just the jealousy of an older single woman for a young and very pretty one.
Maggie nodded gratefully. She hurried to put her coat on and leave, because she wanted to catch the next bus. Her mother would already be looking for her, but she did hope Sally wasn’t in trouble…
‘Please sit down, Miss Ross,’ Ben Harper said, indicating the chair opposite the large mahogany desk. ‘Don’t look so nervous. You’re not in trouble.’
‘Thank you,’ Sally said and sat down. He remained standing and looked down at her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. ‘I hope you didn’t mind my speaking out, sir?’
‘It was what I’d hoped for,’ he said.
‘I felt you needed to be told about the stock. Some of it isn’t right for this area of London…’
He nodded and frowned. ‘In the New York store we have more departments on one floor. These premises are small by comparison. Do you like your job, Miss Ross?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. I like staff to be happy. I’m not certain…’ He paused then, ‘My sister Jenni will be returning to New York in a couple of weeks. She also has shares in one of the stores there. I’ve decided to stay on here, at least for the foreseeable future. We have to make this place pay and quickly. Stores like this can sink or swim in the blink of an eye. My uncle wanted to open a store here, because he loved London and England – he said the English had more class. I don’t want to let him down, Miss Ross.’
‘I’m sure you can make it work, sir,’ Sally said, meeting his look honestly. ‘Some of the stock is probably more suited to Knightsbridge – especially in the men’s department. Only a few men can afford to pay the prices you’re charging, most working men wouldn’t dream of paying so much.’ The suits were a bit flashy for English taste and didn’t have that quiet look of elegance that British men preferred.
‘I didn’t want the store to be a bargain basement…’ he said, ‘but perhaps the suits are a bit too pricey…’
‘There is a middle ground…’ Sally suggested.
‘I suppose there must be,’ he said but looked doubtful. ‘We’ve always stuck to the best and that’s how my uncle made his fortune. However, neither of us knew London as well as we thought…’ He was silent again and Sally wondered what more he wanted to say. Then he nodded to himself and brought his gaze back to her. ‘I need to speak with Jenni and then I may want to talk to you again, Miss Ross. My sister has worked in the stores longer than I have and I need to consult her…’ He smiled at her and Sally’s heart missed a beat. ‘Thank you for listening and for your advice – but you must be anxious to get off…’
Sally could have told him she had nowhere she wanted to go but kept the information to herself. She went back down to fetch her coat and found Mrs Craven about to leave for the night.
‘I waited for you,’ she said. ‘You’re not in trouble?’
‘No – he wanted to talk that’s all. I think he’s realised that some mistakes were made with the stock. His sister does the buying and she’s used to stocking the best for their exclusive stores in New York. He’s going to talk to her and then we may see changes…’
‘As long as you haven’t been unfairly dismissed,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘I’ll get off then. I’m meeting friends for some supper this evening. They are two spinster ladies that lodge with me at the boarding house, Minnie and Mildred; it’s Minnie’s birthday – and they made me a beautiful tablecloth for mine…’
‘How lovely,’ Sally said and envied her. ‘Have a good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow…’
They parted outside the shop. Sally decided to catch the bus home. She would see if Mick was around and ask him for news of Sylvia…
15
Rachel had arranged the meal out in a quiet restaurant as a treat for Minnie and Mildred, of whom she felt protective. Minnie was a particularly sweet lady with a lovely gentle nature and it was for her that Rachel had purchased the hat Miss Hart had accused Sally Ross of damaging. It was Minnie’s forty-eighth birthday and she had never been taken out for a meal to a restaurant in her life.
The dining room was lit by shaded lamps that shed a soft light over the pretty tables. Each of them had red cloths and a tiny arrangement of a carnation and a sprig of fern. The cutlery was spotlessly clean and the glasses polished so that they sparkled in the light. When Rachel’s beloved husband had been well, it had been their favourite place to come for celebrations.
Minnie was actually trembling with excitement as the head waiter led them to a secluded table in a corner by the window. It was one of the nicest and Rachel had asked for it specially. The waiter beamed at Rachel.
‘Madam, how wonderful to see you again,’ he said, and for a moment sympathy was in his eyes, though he was tactful enough not to mention her bereavement. ‘I was hoping that we had not lost you for good…’
‘I brought my friends, Miss Minnie and Miss Mildred – it is Miss Minnie’s birthday, Mr Henry.’
‘Twenty-one years young,’ he responded gallantly and bowed over her hand, making her giggle and blush like a young girl. ‘How delightful – a birthday dinner. I shall ask chef to make sure everything is perfect for my three favourite ladies.’
‘Minnie, he was flirting with you,’ Mildred said and frowned in disapproval, but Rachel smiled.
‘Mr Henry is always charming,’ she said. ‘My husband brought me here often and the food was always good.’
‘It must be expensive,’ Minnie said, in awe of her surroundings. ‘You already gave me that beautiful hat, Rachel dear…’
‘I like coming here too,’ Rachel assured her. ‘I am earning a good wage now, more than they’re refusing to give those poor miners, and I wanted to celebrate with my friends.’
‘Y
ou should have a nice gentleman friend to take you out,’ Minnie said, looking at her with warmth and kindness. ‘You’re far too attractive to spend the rest of your life alone.’
‘Minnie – you should not make personal remarks…’ her sister reprimanded, but Rachel just laughed and shook her head.
‘If I fell in love again I might marry, because I knew what it was to be truly happy, but I haven’t met anyone I feel remotely that way about,’ she said. ‘I don’t see why I shouldn’t go out sometimes and have a little pleasure – and I’m looking forward to sharing my evening with both of you.’
Mr Henry had returned with a bottle of wine on ice, which he placed at their table with a flourish. ‘Compliments of the management,’ he said and beamed at them. ‘We are so happy to have Mrs Craven and her friends with us this evening.’
The menus were produced and everyone chose from the extensive list. Minnie had roast chicken, Mildred chose plaice done in a white wine sauce and Rachel asked for a steak, medium rare, accompanied by French fries, mushrooms and a salad. For starters, the sisters had fruit juice and Rachel had smoked salmon mousse, which had always been her favourite.
She had wondered if it might make her feel sad to come here without her husband, but she found that the serenity and warmth of the place, combined with Mr Henry’s charm and the sisters’ chatter, made her happy. It seemed that at last she’d found a way to put the hell of the last months of that terrible illness to a far corner of her mind, where it was no longer as powerful.
Minnie tasted her wine and giggled as the bubbles went up her nose. It wasn’t champagne, but a pleasant sparkling rosé that she discovered she liked.
‘Whatever Papa would say, I don’t know,’ Mildred said, tasting hers suspiciously. However, as the meal progressed, she finished one glass and allowed Mr Henry to pour her a little more. Minnie had two glasses and was perhaps a little tipsy when she finished her coffee cream gateau at the end. Mr Henry then produced a pot of coffee and the meal finished with little mint creams covered in chocolate.