The Keepsake

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Despite her failure to attain equal pay, Etta took it in good part, and, happy to have good feeling restored, even dealt him a playful push for his impishness.

  To endorse that they were once again friends, his teasing continued into Saturday, and even though the shop was busy he managed to convey mischief, albeit in a silent fashion when Mr Burdock wasn’t looking and more overtly when the manager went out for an afternoon cup of coffee.

  With a brief lull in trade, only a solitary customer in the shop and Etta the one to serve her, others joined in the fun, their mood enhanced by the fact that this was the last day of the week. Taking it in turns, they tried to distract her behind the customer’s back, Tupman being even worse than Ficklepenny in some respects; for a supposed adult his antics were very silly.

  Etta tried not to laugh and forced herself to concentrate on her task. The customer had asked for a particular pair of shoes she had seen in the window. Knowing this style was limited in its size range, Etta had at first taken several others for the woman’s inspection, but was unable to divert her from the original choice. Eventually she was forced to admit, ‘I’m afraid we don’t have a size four – however, if you’d care to try the three and a half I think you’ll find them a generous fit.’ She tried to avoid looking at Mr Tupman’s clownish gesticulations.

  Rather than be disappointed the woman agreed to try them, but her face was dubious as she strolled up and down the carpet. ‘I had set my heart on them, and you were correct in saying they are large-fitting…though the left one nips a little.’

  ‘Oh we can soon alter that!’ Etta jumped up brightly. ‘Slip it off and I’ll just take it through to Mr Beasley in the back, he’ll put it on the stretcher for you.’

  ‘You can do that, can you?’

  ‘Why, yes!’ She fought to ignore Mr Tupman who mouthed theatrically, what a liar, and hoped her smirk did not show. ‘They suit you so perfectly that it would be a shame not to resort to a little manipulation.’ Given the shoe, she marched through a doorway and rammed it onto a broom handle, hauling and riving it into the toe for a minute or two, warming the leather in her hands and trying to make it more supple, before finally taking it back to the customer, who pronounced:

  ‘Why, that’s much better – how amazing!’

  ‘Yes, he’s a marvel with the stretcher, our Mr Beasley.’ Etta tried to blinker herself to Mr Tupman, who stood across the floor tut-tutting and shaking his head at her lies.

  ‘He certainly is – I’ll take them!’

  ‘Thank you, madam. Would madam care to peruse a selection of our hosiery whilst I wrap these?’

  Only when the customer had departed with the ill-fitting shoes and a bagful of sundries did Etta take the opportunity to chastise her tormentor. ‘You’re determined to get me the sack, aren’t you?’ she laughingly accused.

  ‘Never! I love you too much, my dear.’ Mr Tupman grinned and, with the shop still divest of customers, came to help her pack the assortment of unwanted footwear back into boxes.

  Mary-Ann, now dusting away at the fixtures in a spare moment, joked to her companion, ‘Never helps us, does he, Miss Wimp? We’re obviously not pretty enough for him.’

  ‘Oh, go on then!’ The ginger-haired man grabbed a feather duster and minced across the room, performing more silly antics to their laughter.

  A smiling Etta shook her head, piled the boxes and returned them to their rightful place, parrying jokes along her way.

  In the quiet of the stockroom, having replaced all the footwear, she bent to adjust her wrinkled hose prior to going back into the shop. Involved in smoothing the stocking around her thigh she did not notice that the door had opened and someone stood there admiring the view.

  Upon looking up, she expressed startlement and hurriedly lowered her skirt before rebuking him laughingly, ‘Mr Tupman, how unseemly!’

  Arms crossed, he grinned unabashed.

  Expecting him to move aside, she made to pass, but then he caught her arm and pressed his groin against her. The assault lasted only a second but it so shocked Etta that she dealt him an angry shove, which took him off-guard and sent him sprawling backwards into the shop.

  Mr Ficklepenny had begun his virtuoso piece for the amusement of the rest of the staff and had just put a lighted match to the puddle of methylated spirits on the counter which burst into flame, but at the sight of Tupman’s undig-nified ejection from the cupboard he forgot about this and exploded into guffaws, inviting others to join the spectacle.

  All but Etta seemed highly amused, Mr Vant falling prey to a violent smoker’s cough, hawking and wheezing fit to expire, until Mary-Ann hissed a sudden warning, ‘Dandy’s back!’ and those that heard, scattered.

  Tears running down his face, Mr Ficklepenny panicked. ‘Ooh shit!’ Immediately he tried to beat out the flames but in doing so managed to ignite his cuff and was still beating at it frantically as Mr Burdock came through the main door.

  But he need not have worried for the manager’s ire was focused on Mr Tupman, who was just picking himself up from the floor to much ridicule from the Saturday girls who had just come down from their tea-break.

  ‘Disgraceful!’ Horns bristling, nostrils flared like those of an enraged cow, the manager rushed forth to condemn his salesman. ‘Tupman, on your feet at once! What the devil has been going on here – don’t tell me! You can issue your explanation after closing time. Back to your posts, all of you!’

  Mr Tupman was furious and glared at Etta, muttering as he stormed past her, ‘Little bitch, if you get me sacked…’

  She gasped in outrage but had no chance of redress for Burdock caught the interchange and announced damningly, ‘I can see you are involved in this, Miss Lanegan. You shall stay behind too!’

  With the manager keeping watch on the culprits for the rest of the day and trade resuming its normal Saturday briskness, there was little opportunity for discourse – besides which, Etta had no wish to speak to her molester. After an agonising wait, not only for closing time but for the takings to be cashed up too and everyone else to be allowed to leave, the miscreants eventually faced their destiny.

  Mr Burdock saw them individually in the staff room, Tupman being addressed first and emerging with a face like thunder. Etta detected not just anger but a warning in his eye, though without knowing what he had said she was unsure how much to offer in her defence. However, she was quickly to learn, as Mr Burdock followed him out and addressed her in his presence.

  ‘Mr Tupman has acquainted me with all the silliness that transpired this afternoon, and I have to say I am disgusted by such antics from the pair of you. Pushing each other about like children in the schoolyard – I will not suffer such tomfoolery in my shop!’

  From this Etta deduced that Tupman had presented the episode as some innocent prank and not the sexual assault it had been. Obviously he did not want to chance being dismissed and his wife finding out the reason. Not wanting to risk dismissal either, she went along with it for now.

  ‘It’s fortunate for you, Miss Lanegan, that you have been here so long! If I was of a mind to waste the time it’s taken me to train you you’d be out on your ear and no mistake.’

  She nodded, vastly relieved that she was not about to lose her job.

  ‘How you could have the audacity even to suggest that you are worth the same pay as Mr Tupman…’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Now, you will apologise to your senior colleague.’

  Disbelief caused her to bristle. ‘But I’ve done nothing wrong!’

  ‘Are you denying that you pushed Mr Tupman to the floor?’

  ‘Well, no, but with good rea—’

  ‘No buts! There can be no excuse for such behaviour. My goodness, what if there had been customers present? Now, apologise to Mr Tupman or face dismissal.’

  Seething with outrage, Etta had no option but to mutter an apology, though it tasted like vomit.

  ‘Very well, consider yourselves reprimanded, and I trust that will be an end to it.’ Burdock
embraced both parties in his warning, then said, ‘You may go, Mr Tupman. I’d like a further word with Miss Lanegan before she leaves.’

  Once they were alone, he became friendlier towards her, though to just as insulting an effect. ‘Now, I understand that a young lady possessed of such attributes as yourself might not understand what impact those charms have on a fellow, especially when accompanied by such flirtation as we have come to expect from our Miss Lanegan, flashing those sparkling black eyes…’ He all but wagged a finger.

  Etta was astounded. Flirting? She had simply been pleasant and friendly. But from what had just been said it appeared that Tupman had revealed the true extent of the situation – then why had Burdock not dismissed him?

  ‘You must appreciate that Mr Tupman is a married man and it’s quite wrong of you to tease hi—’

  ‘I beg your pardon!’ Etta cut in. ‘If he chooses to misinterpret a friendly smile as an attempt to seduce him, surely the fault lies within his character?’

  ‘Come, come, Miss Lanegan.’ Though scolding her, Burdock was to maintain his avuncular manner. He even laid an arm across her back, cupping one of her shoulders in his pudgy little mitt. ‘That is most improper speech, and, I might add, a most improper suggestion. Mr Tupman did not seek to lay fault at your door, and has had the decency to admit that he might have been led astray by the gaiety of the moment. You must accept some of the blame. If we cannot reach an understanding with your colleagues it will be impossible for you to continue working here, and that would be a shame, especially for those of us who appreciate the decorative effect you have on the place.’

  Etta stiffened. Was this one about to molest her too?

  But no, Burdock was far too proper, seemingly content just to have this beautiful creature in proximity, to look and perhaps to administer a little harmless if unwelcome touch.

  ‘If I have misconstrued the situation, then I am very sorry,’ replied Etta, fighting her inner revulsion, for she could not lose this precious job. ‘I shall endeavour to be more thoughtful towards Mr Tupman.’ And not to place myself in the stockroom at the same time as him, came the dark thought.

  ‘Splendid!’ Oblivious to how angry he had made her, Burdock dealt her a happy beam and a final unwanted squeeze, then took her completely by surprise. ‘Now, don’t worry your pretty little head any longer. Having accepted your oath of good behaviour I have a proposition…’

  She gave an inward groan at her own naivety and braced herself for some lewd proposal.

  ‘Miss Bunyon has today rather inconveniently given notice that she intends to marry in two weeks’ time. It would save me a great deal of interviewing if you would take over the job of cashier.’

  Etta could not prevent a gasp.

  ‘I’m glad to see it was as big a surprise to you as it was to me,’ nodded Burdock. ‘It was very remiss of her to keep it under her hat until the last minute. I expected more from someone who’s been here since she left school. Anyway, you seem quite an intelligent young woman and are familiar with the workings of the shop. It wouldn’t take long for you to pick up the book-keeping system – thereby giving you the increase in pay that you so obviously covet – though I make it clear here and now there will be no shenanigans.’ He broke off to laugh at his unintended pun. ‘No shenanigans, Miss Lanegan! If you agree, I shall ask Miss Bunyon to show you the ropes before she leaves next Saturday.’

  If that idiot can do it than I’m damned sure I can, thought a somewhat stunned Etta, but kept this retort to herself as she made quick acceptance of his offer. ‘I should be delighted, Mr Burdock.’ Delight was hardly the word – after such a terrible afternoon and the expectation that she was about to be sacked, she was ecstatic.

  The manager seemed delighted too. ‘Then we shall see you in the office on Monday.’ He beamed and dealt her a series of affectionate little pats before ending with a joke. ‘And let us hope that enclosing you in a glass booth goes some way to keeping you out of mischief – run along now!’

  14

  The new job might be welcome but that first week was incredibly testing, being patronised by Burdock and Bunyon alike, and receiving vexed glares from Tupman, who had obviously hoped to see her sacked in revenge for her rejection of him and instead found her promoted.

  ‘I wonder how she managed to twist Dandy round her finger?’ she overheard Mr Vant muse between fits of coughing.

  And Tupman’s wicked reply: ‘More relevantly, I wonder what she’s giving in return.’

  What could she do to quash the rumours? Any attack on Tupman would bring instant dismissal, as would admitting that she was a married woman, but such gossip was offensive to her.

  There was no option but to grin and bear it, and at least some of the bad feeling would come to an end when Miss Bunyon finally left on Saturday night. However, before then she was to give Etta much to endure. Loving every minute of having someone there to whom she could delegate the less attractive side of the job, the cashier made her polish every section of wood panelling in the office, plus every brass handle and each glass partition.

  Knowing it was futile to object, Etta undertook every task, polishing until her arms felt as though they might drop off, but still it was not good enough for Bunyon.

  ‘You’ll have to make a better job of it than this.’ The arrogant cashier pointed out a few smears left on the glass.

  Pretending to be unaffected, Etta swiftly buffed these away, telling herself that in another few days her oppressor would be off.

  Yet, even as she exited the staff room for the final time Miss Bunyon found the capacity for one last hurtful comment. When, along with the others, Etta gave her best wishes for the coming nuptials, there came a smug reply. ‘That’s very magnanimous of you. I’m sure you must be eager to see me go, it is rather crowded in the office. Now you and Mr Burdock will be able to have it to yourselves.’

  That was all Etta could take. ‘I’ll say this once!’ she boomed for all to hear. ‘I would never so much as consider besmirching my honour with a married man and anyone who makes such a suggestion should be thoroughly ashamed.’ She looked round at the shifty expressions. ‘Yes, I have heard the gossip!’

  Mr Tupman gave a careless shrug, threw his mackintosh over his arm and went home. Mr Vant studied the shabby linoleum and drew long on his cigarette, whilst Miss Bunyon merely offered an innocent smirk. ‘I was merely commenting on the size of the office. What you make of that is all in your dirty mind.’ And she left.

  ‘We know you’d never do anything like that,’ Mary-Ann murmured soothingly, passing Etta her coat from the cupboard. ‘Don’t we, Miss Wimp?’

  Maude gave earnest reply, though Etta knew she was not without blame for the gossip. Nevertheless, she replied, ‘Thank you. Well, at least that’s one of my enemies out of the way – and good riddance to her!’ she added with feeling.

  But, left to do the job by herself, Etta found it somewhat daunting. Mr Burdock was eager to help in his puffed-up way, though the sight of their heads close together as they scrutinised the accounts did nothing to scotch the rumours.

  It was all very annoying, but, attempting to cope alone this afternoon, Etta had more important matters to occupy her as she struggled to come to grips with the piles of receipts and invoices, the stocktaking and banking…and more. How the devil was one meant to work in such a confined space? Squashed against the desk by Burdock, who was involved in a telephone conversation with his superior, his weight on one leg and his fat backside taking up even more room than usual, she heaved a sigh, cleared her throat and threw him a look of annoyance over her shoulder, all of which he failed to heed. With a gasp, she turned away from the jutting backside and tried to concentrate on her ledger – but in seconds her head shot up again in response to a feminine squeal.

  ‘Wasn’t me!’ Tupman held up his hands as a protestation of innocence when the manager glared immediately at him.

  ‘A mouse!’ Mary-Ann, who had been carrying a wastepaper basket with the intentio
n of emptying it, now threw it in the air and danced about hysterically as the rodent sprang out and in a blur of movement shot across the floor with everyone after it, customers looking on in bafflement.

  Etta interrupted her book-keeping to watch the excited pursuit that wound its way back and forth across the shop, covering her mouth and laughing in anticipation of what would happen next.

  Behind her, still leaning against the panelled wall with the receiver pressed to his ear as his superior droned on, Mr Burdock itched to deal with the explosion of noise but, for now, the only outlet for his annoyance was a tapping of his foot and a disapproving frown, for he dared not break off the important dialogue. It transpired he did not have to. In an extraordinary sequence of events the mouse ran into the office – straight under Burdock’s foot which instantly snapped down on it like a trap.

  Its pursuers stopped dead with a unified exclamation for the manager’s skill, before Burdock shooed them away with a wordless command, leaving only Etta to stare in horror and to watch the life being squashed out of the tiny body. Under his foot, the mouse struggled briefly then was dead.

  Still on the telephone, Burdock reassured his superior – ‘Noise, sir? Oh, it’s from outside!’ – and maintained the conversation whilst gesticulating to his staff to get about their business and for Etta to remove the body from under his shoe.

  Revolted, she scraped it up using two receipt books and carried it to the dustbin, her heart still thudding from the shock. Marty would never have done such a cruel thing. Gazing sadly upon the crushed mouse in the dustbin, the glaze of death upon its eyes, something inside her died too. He wasn’t coming back, was he? She couldn’t pretend any longer. He had truly gone. A wave of emotion threatened to swamp her. After working nine, ten, sometimes even eleven hours a day for months she had begun to appreciate how gallantly Marty had struggled to provide for them. Small wonder he had not the energy for anything else, small wonder he had been short-tempered with her. Why had she taken his efforts so much for granted? Well, she must no longer take it for granted that someone else would look after her. She was on her own.