‘Excuse me. Do you know where Father Christmas is?’ The boy looks up at me, his big green eyes all sparkly with anticipation. ‘I’ve got a list. Daddy said I can give it to him.’
‘Well, I think he might be downstairs in his grotto.’ I crouch down so I’m head height with the boy. ‘And a list is a very good idea, how else will he know what you like best?’ I smile. After studying my face for a bit, the boy flings his arms around my neck and gives me an enormous squeeze, practically winding me in the process. I pat his back tentatively, relishing the spontaneous moment of comfort.
‘Hey, Declan, come on now.’ I stand up and the man goes to scoop the boy up into his arms, but he’s too quick and ducks behind the display. ‘Sorry. My wife’s just had a new baby and he’s feeling a little bit left out,’ the man whispers when the boy is out of earshot.
‘Aw, would he like one of these little teddies?’ I ask.
I take one of the fluffy white miniature bears down from the DKNY shelf and give it to the boy when he reappears. One of the brand managers brought in a batch for us to give away free with the purchase of every bag, but I’m sure they can spare one for a cute little boy.
‘Thanks so much,’ the guy says to me before turning to Declan and taking his hand. ‘What do you say to the nice lady?’
‘Thank you.’ Declan giggles and snuggles into the bear, looking really chuffed before pushing it out towards me. ‘He’s called Nice Lady Bear.’ The guy rolls his eyes and laughs, and I can’t help laughing too.
‘How much is this one?’ The man quickly composes himself, and points to a gorgeous dusty pink, top handle Chloé bag with signature gold metalwork.
‘Oh, good choice. This one is a limited edition; we only have two left and I can’t guarantee delivery again this side of Christmas Day.’
‘Is it a popular one, you know … an It bag, or whatever they call them?’ He pushes a hand through his hair as Declan simultaneously bounces Nice Lady Bear in his stomach.
‘Oh yes, it was in Elle magazine last week.’ I take the tag from the inside pocket and show it to him.
‘Blimey, that’s more than I paid for my first car.’ He shakes his head and tweaks Declan’s freckly nose.
‘We have others if this one is a little more than you wanted to spend,’ I say, discreetly. He hesitates for a moment before nodding decisively.
‘I’ll take it. Because she’s worth it.’ He shrugs.
‘Shall we go over to my counter so I can gift-wrap it for you?’ I smile.
After placing the bag in a soft white drawstring dust bag, and cocooning it in a puff of our signature powder-blue tissue, I tie it all up with an enormous navy satin ribbon and hand the guy his credit card back. I stow the bag in a giant gift box, sprinkle in a handful of silver snowflake confetti and close the lid, before carefully sliding it into one of our special Christmas-themed paper carrier bags. I twirl a length of red gingham ribbon around the handles.
‘Thanks a million.’ He takes the bag and hoists Declan up onto his shoulders.
Once they’ve headed off towards the escalator, Hannah darts in front of my face.
‘Cor! Wish I had a husband like that – talk about thoughtful, and great with kids of course. And you are soo gooood. I can see why Kelly’s earmarked you for a starring role. You’re a natural sales woman, no coaching requirements for you!’ she gushes, practically hyperventilating with sheer excitement. I stare at her, wondering if she’s for real.
‘That’s because I am actually a sales woman. It’s my job, in real life,’ I say, stating the obvious.
‘Yes, yes, of course you are, but well … you know what I mean.’ She does a little giggle. ‘Now, Leo wants to check a few things with you and then we’re good to roll. Friday afternoon, the quietest time in store I’ve been told, there’ll be a short briefing, a run-through of the “scenario”. Not too much, natch.’ She giggles again. ‘We want the show to be as authentic as possible.’
‘But I’m not in the show,’ I say, busying myself with updating my sales sheet.
‘Of course you are. You’re going to be a star,’ she says, giving me a blank face, and quite clearly unable to comprehend my reluctance. She’s obviously used to people begging for airtime.
‘Nope, not me.’ I put my sales sheet away and start stacking the ring trays on top of each other in preparation for giving the glass counter a good buffing over. I like everything to look pristine, as there’s nothing worse than a messy point-of-sale area.
‘But you have to be. Kelly wants you. And she always gets what she wants. She’s the boss, she owns the production company, KCTV.’
‘Well, not this time. And she doesn’t own me. Anyway, it’s not the law,’ I say, probably a little too petulantly as I fold my arms to underline the point.
‘It practically is.’ Pursing her lips, Hannah grips the chart tighter and tries to stare me out.
‘What do you mean?’ I cave in first and glance at the floor before looking back at her face which is now a rhubarb-red colour.
‘Check your employment contract. It’s all covered in there. I’ll be back.’ And she marches off, closely followed by Leo, who has to do a gentle jog to keep up with her as he attempts to juggle the sound paraphernalia about his body at the same time.
5
So it’s true. Hannah was right. I managed to hold out until my lunch break to check. And after waving off regular customers, Mr and Mrs Peabody, who never actually buy anything, they just like to come instore for a chat and to share pictures of their grandchildren who live in California, I’m in Amy’s office with a copy of my employment contract on the desk in front of me.
‘It’s a wonderful opportunity for Carrington’s,’ Amy says, diplomatically. She’s standing next to me, wearing a taupe Ted Baker trouser suit and pointing to sub-section nineteen, clause a hundred trillion, or whatever. It says Carrington’s can use promotional material made within the store, read: FILM ME! And do what they like with it, or words to that effect. I stopped reading after a while. But it’s right there on the back page, just above my signature, glaring like it’s giving me the finger and yelling out ‘hahahaha sucker!’
But who reads every single line of an employment contract? Not me, obviously. I was only fifteen when I got it and just thrilled to have a Saturday job paying me actual money to work in my favourite place. I still remember signing the contract, attempting a proper grown-up swirl with my new fountain pen. A gift from Alfie, he had sent it for my birthday. The pen came in a black velvet box, nestling inside on a bed of lilac satin, and I thought it was the best present I’d ever had. I glance again at my now girlish-looking signature. Georgina Hart. All twirly and written with a flourish. I even drew a little heart motif above my surname.
Getting the Saturday job was like a dream come true, somewhere I belonged. A welcome escape from my foster carer, Nanny Jean’s house, and her bullying birth daughter, Kimberley. A year older than me, Kimberley would parade around the sitting room in a multitude of new outfits complete with mismatched accessories, bought from Topshop with a generous monthly allowance. I wanted the same. And if Nanny Jean wasn’t going to be fair, then a Saturday job was the perfect solution. My own money. To do with what I liked. And Carrington’s was a place where I could remember being with Mum. Kind of like a spiritual connection. Comforting. It was as if she was there standing right in front of me, oohing and ahhing as she admired a handbag spotted in a glossy magazine that she had flicked through whilst waiting to see her consultant at the hospital. I would be standing next to her, egging her on to buy it. Of course, I’ve learnt now that I don’t have to be inside Carrington’s to remember Mum – she’s all around me, wherever I am – but still … Carrington’s on TV, broadcast to the whole world, potentially. Well, it changes everything. Everything I grew up with. It’s as though it won’t be my special place any more.
‘So I have no choice then? And I can’t have one of those blurry things to block out my face?’ I say, cringing slightly. I
feel foolish now after making such a fuss and being sniffy with Hannah, saying I wasn’t doing it, when in actual fact I have no choice. I agreed to it, albeit without actually knowing. But there is an upside if I have to be part of the show – I guess a free new wardrobe, and the other perks that Annie was so excited about, aren’t to be sniffed at.
‘Not really. But if you’re adamant about being excluded from this exciting initiative, then I could organise a transfer for you to another department. Home Electricals, for example?’ she says, sounding corporate and robotic. ‘They won’t be featuring in Kelly Cooper Come Instore.’ My heart sinks. Relegated to the basement. Like Annie said, there’s no glamour down there – and, besides, I love working in Women’s Accessories. ‘Have a think about it. I’m sure I could find someone to cover for you with the amount of staff I’ve had in here already today, all of them begging to be in the show.’
‘Oh right.’
‘But I do understand if you’re reluctant. The board were very specific that staff shouldn’t be put under pressure to take part, if they really don’t want to. We’re not in the nature of forcing employees to do things against their will.’
‘So why did they let Annie and me be portrayed as useless then?’
‘Err, yes. Good point.’ Her cheeks flush as she points an index finger in the air. ‘And I’m very sorry about that. It won’t happen again,’ she says, giving me the impression that somebody more senior than her has asked this exact same question, and more than likely had a word with Kelly and KCTV. Well good! So they should. Carrington’s prides itself on providing an exceptional service. Yes, sales have dwindled recently, but there’s a recession on, so it’s to be expected. And it’s not as if we’re the only shop suffering. And of course, a high-profile, prime-time TV show with a retail guru to help us turn things around will be good for business, but still, there’s no need to make us look like complete Muppets.
‘Definitely?’ I say, an idea hatching inside my head.
‘Yes, definitely. You have my word. You’re very good at what you do, so it really would be a shame if we didn’t show you off.’ She tilts her head to the side and smiles sweetly.
‘Hmm, well in that case, I suppose it might be OK,’ I say, letting the idea grow some more. This could actually be an amazing opportunity to show the whole world how wonderful Carrington’s is. How brilliant our customer service is. Coach-loads of tourists could come for special Christmas shopping sprees, just like they used to. Annie and I can show the viewers how we were misrepresented. I might even get a chance to prove that Annie didn’t ignore Zara. In fact, Zara bought the creamy caramel Anya bag and was given a perfect customer service. Ha! See how she likes being set up.
‘Great. See it as an opportunity. A chance to do your bit for Carrington’s. We all know that business has dipped of late, and you really are one of our best sales supervisors. That’s why you were chosen to be in the pilot.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes really.’ She nods and smiles.
‘So how will it work then?’ I ask, feeling flattered.
‘Well, my involvement was purely from a personnel perspective, but I’ve been told the show will be aired every Wednesday until Christmas. I think filming starts in a week or so and it will all be very spontaneous. You just turn up and get on with it, apparently.’
‘I see. And I heard something about a live wrap party?’
‘Yes, that’s right, for KCTV and Carrington’s staff, if they want to attend.’
‘Even those that aren’t part of the show?’ I ask, figuring it’s only fair if they are.
‘Of course.’
‘And what about the actual filming of the shows?’
‘That will be on Sundays when the store is closed. Although Kelly has already suggested we revisit our opening times schedule. Sunday closing is archaic, she says.’ And I’m sure I spot a fleeting look of weariness on Amy’s face, making me wonder if Kelly has been giving her a hard time. But I guess it was inevitable – nowadays all of the big department stores are open on Sundays. ‘KCTV did investigate filming every day, but their lawyers advised against it – apparently it’s a legal minefield to film with so many members of the general public wandering around, and the board were worried about it putting our regular customers off from coming instore. You know how “traditional” some of them are.’ And I certainly do. We nearly had a boycott on our hands when we tried to introduce an Ann Summers concession last year. Mrs Godfrey wrote a stern letter to the local trading standards office stating that Rampant Rabbits had no place in Mulberry-On-Sea.
‘But how will it work if there aren’t any actual customers instore?’
‘Oh, well, not all of the scenes will involve customers. Other parts of the retail operation will be featured on the show too. This initiative isn’t just about KCTV helping us up our game, it’s about opening our doors to viewers, potential new customers, and letting them see what goes on behind the scenes, as it were. Rather like a “docu-soap”, I think was how one of the production team explained it to me.’
‘Oh I see.’ A reality show, in other words.
‘Apparently KCTV are well renowned for their documentary work and feel that our show could be an award contender,’ she says, sounding as if she’s been brainwashed.
‘Wow.’ I make big eyes.
‘Yes, Kelly says everyone, the world over, is fascinated with department stores, so she wants to show people how other things work, such as supplier contact, stock control, merchandising and what goes on in the cash office – that kind of thing.’ I think of Lauren, Doris and Suzanne who all work in the cash office, and wonder how they feel about being featured on Kelly Cooper Come Instore. ‘Besides, they’re not using real customers for the selling scenes,’ Amy adds.
‘Will they be pretend ones then?’ I resist the urge to laugh out loud as I wonder how this is all going to work.
‘That’s right. KCTV are going to use actors for the actual customer interaction sequences,’ she says, with a totally deadpan face. My smile quickly fades. ‘They’ve already done a couple of trial runs this morning, and they were very successful apparently.’
‘Trial runs?’ They seem to have it all figured out. And I’m instantly reminded that this must have taken months to plan. I think of Tom again, keeping it a secret, and my heart sinks.
‘That’s right. I met one of the actors earlier, with his son – a really cute little boy with a gorgeous head of dark curls. He brought the boy along to make the performance seem more authentic. ’
Whaat? Nooo, it can’t be.
‘Was the little boy called Declan by any chance?’ I ask, mentally kicking myself for not having guessed that his dad was an actor.
‘Oh yes, I think so, how do you know? Have you met him too?’ Amy gives me a wide-eyed look.
‘Err, yes. This morning. He bought a Chloé bag.’ And there was me thinking reality TV shows were, in fact, real. I can’t believe I didn’t cotton on. I should have guessed, with their gorgeous accents and picture-perfect shopping scenario, like something straight out of a Hallmark film. And with Hannah practically breathing down my neck as I served the guy, and then pretending it was authentic with her ‘wish I had a husband like that’ comment. I make a mental note to scrutinise every customer more thoroughly in future. Just because I’m doing the show – under protest, for the record – doesn’t mean Kelly can make a fool of me a second time. Besides, I’m only doing Kelly Cooper Come Instore to avoid having to flog boring washing machines downstairs, and because my swirly signatured fifteen-year-old self didn’t know any better than to check for sneaky ‘filming for worldwide TV broadcasting’ clauses. I do a big, satisfying harrumph inside my head.
‘Well, there you go. Nothing to it, just like any other day in Women’s Accessories,’ Amy says, attempting a bright smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
‘I guess so.’ I shrug. ‘But it means losing a day off,’ I add, wondering if anyone has thought about that – and it’s n
ot just me, all the staff have Sunday off. It might even be illegal to work six days per week. Ha! I don’t remember seeing that covered anywhere in the contract.
‘That’s why all staff who choose to take part will be paid extra for their time, their normal salary plus an additional payment, and also benefit from other perks. Guest appearances, interviews … Apparently it’s not uncommon for the people who appear in Kelly’s shows to go on and command considerable sums for doing all sorts of things – read bedtime stories to shoppers, I think was one suggestion, attend openings, magazine interviews; even appear on daytime TV, if they want to. And the board saw a whole stack of figures from KCTV showing how previous programmes boosted revenue for the businesses featured – by fifty per cent in some cases. So it really will be worth it, I’m sure, if Carrington’s is revived and we all get to keep our jobs.’
‘Wow. Fifty per cent! That’s pretty impressive. It’ll be like the boom days again.’ Thinking back to that time, I remembered our sales figures were fantastic – Annie and I were almost doubling our salaries some months, with the amount of commission we made. And Carrington’s could certainly do with a boost, the way sales had been flagging recently.
‘Exactly. But you’ll need to be here early, for make-up and stuff. They want to start shooting, as it were, at around 10 a.m. Is that OK for you?’
‘Sure,’ I say, thinking it will be worth losing my lazy Sunday mornings in bed and catching up on my Sky+ recordings to see Carrington’s back on top. I couldn’t bear it if the store went into a terminal decline and we all lost our jobs. And before Tom took over, that was a very real possibility. I can’t even contemplate Carrington’s going to the wall and having to close down. What would we do? We’re like a big happy family that looks out for each other. Laughing and working together – with a bit of gossiping too, of course. Someone even did a tally once and worked out that there had been eleven Carrington’s weddings over the years, where employees had married after meeting on the shop floor. Years ago, the staff actually used to board in the maze of rooms up in the attic and, during the Second World War, the underground tunnels, one of which meanders as far as Lovelace Street, a good mile away, were used as shelters during the blitz. The whole town, practically, took cover down there. Mrs Grace told me all about it. She remembers it clearly and she was only a little girl at the time. So, if Carrington’s were to close, then it would be like ripping the heart out of Mulberry-On-Sea, and I don’t think I could bear that. I decide to suck it up and get on with the show. I have to. For Carrington’s.
Christmas at Carrington’s Page 6