Sing As We Go

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by Margaret Dickinson


  He smiled again as he put out his arm as if to usher Kathy forward. The girl bit her lip and glanced anxiously at Miss Curtis, an unspoken question in her eyes. She didn’t want to upset this woman. She would have to work with her – under her. Miss Curtis had it in her power to make life very uncomfortable for the younger girls in her charge. Even Stella looked down in the mouth. Obviously she’d looked forward to showing Kathy around the store.

  ‘Come along, Miss Burton,’ Tony Kendall ordered, and Kathy was relieved to see Miss Curtis give her a slight nod.

  For the next half an hour Kathy followed the manager around the large store, through ladies’ apparel, haberdashery, footwear, men’s and boys’ wear and then up the elegant staircase to carpets, household furnishings, linens and fabrics . . . The store seemed to sell anything and everything. On and on it went, until Kathy’s head ached trying to remember where each department was situated.

  ‘And now,’ he beamed down at her as they arrived back at his office on the top floor, ‘we’ll end the day with a cup of tea in my office. I like to make all the newcomers feel welcome and that they can turn to me with any problem at any time. Please, come in.’

  He opened the door into the outer office where Miss Foster was still typing, her nimble fingers flying over the keys.

  ‘Would you get us tea, Miss Foster, please?’ he asked.

  The woman stopped her work at once and glanced up. For a moment, she stared at Kathy and then glanced at her boss. ‘Of course, Mr Kendall,’ she murmured and rose to her feet, frowning slightly.

  Tony Kendall had moved towards his own office and opened the door, holding it for Kathy to enter.

  With a strange feeling of trepidation that she could not understand, Kathy stepped ahead of him into his room.

  ‘Did you enjoy being shown round by “sir”?’ Stella’s greeting when Kathy returned to the millinery department was distinctly cold. Gone was the easy chatter there had been before Mr Kendall had arrived on the scene.

  Carefully, Kathy said, ‘It was all right. But I’d much sooner you’d’ve shown me round. My head’s aching with trying to remember where everywhere is. I’d’ve felt more comfortable with you. I could’ve asked you when I wasn’t sure, but – but I daren’t refuse to go with him. I’m sorry.’

  Stella stared at her for a moment and then the merry smile was back on her face. She touched Kathy’s arm. ‘No – no, of course you couldn’t. It’s just that I was really looking forward to showing you round.’

  Kathy nodded. ‘Me too.’

  Stella leaned closer. ‘Miss Curtis isn’t too pleased, either. She gets all huffy when he interferes with the running of her department. She’s been here longer than him and she’s older. Not much, of course. Mind you, when he first came here I think she fancied her chances with him. There were rumours . . .’ Stella was chattering happily again, her brief moment of umbrage completely forgotten. She nudged Kathy and winked. ‘Know what I mean?’

  Kathy smiled, but said nothing.

  The girl seemed about to confide more but instead she muttered suddenly, ‘Look out! The dragon’s here.’

  Kathy glanced over her shoulder to see Jemima walking towards them, pausing every few moments as her glance ran over a display. Her sharp eyes missed nothing, from the tidiness of the counter to a thin film of dust on a shelf.

  From nowhere, it seemed to Kathy, Miss Curtis appeared silently and fell into step beside her superior. A short distance from the girls, the two women stopped and turned to face each other. ‘Has Miss Burton had a tour of the store yet?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Miss Curtis’s mouth tightened. ‘She certainly has.’ As Jemima’s eyebrows rose in a question, Muriel added sarcastically, ‘Mr Kendall showed her around himself.’

  ‘Did he indeed?’ There was no mistaking the disapproval in Jemima’s tone and she added softly, ‘Mm. Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, Muriel?’

  The other woman shrugged. ‘But what can we do? You know what he’s like.’

  ‘I do,’ Jemima sniffed. ‘But this particular girl is staying with me for a while. Just until she gets on her feet. Maybe I can . . .’ Now her voice dropped so low that even Kathy’s acute hearing could not catch the rest of the conversation.

  *

  ‘So,’ Jemima began as they walked home together after the store had closed. ‘Do you think you’ll like working with us?’

  ‘Oh yes, yes I do. But – but there’s a lot to learn.’

  Jemima chuckled. ‘I suppose there is. I’ve worked there so long, I suppose I don’t see how it must be for someone just starting. Especially someone who’s lived out in the sticks.’

  Kathy smiled to herself. Jemima certainly didn’t mince her words.

  ‘I just hope I will suit. Miss Curtis seems a bit fearsome.’

  ‘Oh, we all are,’ Jemima said cheerfully. ‘We don’t tolerate slackness or slovenliness or idleness in any way, shape or form.’

  Kathy was silent.

  ‘But,’ the older woman went on, her tone softening just a little, ‘the main thing to remember is that the customer always – always – comes first and foremost. I know there’s the saying “the customer’s always right”. Well, of course they’re not, but you have to act as if they are. In short, my dear – it sounds a funny thing to say – but you have to let the customer walk all over you and still come up smiling.’

  ‘Well, I should be good at that then,’ Kathy remarked dryly. ‘I’ve had plenty of practice at doing what I’m told.’

  ‘Mm,’ Jemima said as they arrived at the passageway between her home and the next-door house. They walked down it in single file. As they came to the door at the end of the passage leading into Jemima’s back yard, she put her hand on the latch and turned to glance back at Kathy. ‘Maybe so, but you’ve kicked over the traces now, haven’t you? Well and truly.’

  Without waiting for any reply, Jemima opened the door and, in a soft and tender tone, began to call, ‘Taffy, where are you? Come to Mummy, Taffy.’

  Six

  With her first week’s wages, Kathy bought herself a smart suit to wear for work. At least, she paid for part of it. Staff were allowed to have an account and, although she was only very newly appointed and still on trial, because she was Miss Robinson’s’ protégée, the rules had been relaxed.

  ‘I’ll need your help, Stella,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to tell me what’s suitable.’

  As the doors closed on the Saturday evening, both girls approached Miss Curtis to ask if Kathy might be allowed to try on the two or three suits that Stella had picked out for her during quiet moments in the department.

  Kathy felt Muriel’s scrutiny. The woman’s face was expressionless and Kathy couldn’t guess what her superior was thinking. She would have been amazed – and dismayed – to know that the overriding emotion that Muriel was feeling at that moment was one of jealousy.

  Kathy was quite unaware of her own natural beauty. With her lightly tanned, smooth complexion and well-proportioned features she was more than just ‘pretty’. Perhaps the only thing that spoiled the classic beauty was the rather square, firm chin. Her blonde hair had now been styled into the fashion of the day – swept back from her face in pincurls and falling in a shining cascade of waves and curls to her shoulders. With the addition of a smart new suit and a few lessons in the art of applying subtle make-up, Kathy would be more than eye-catching. She would outshine all the other women and girls on the whole of the first floor. Muriel struggled with her feelings, quashing the natural instinct of the envy that one woman feels towards another, younger, prettier girl, and tried to decide whether the girl’s looks would be an asset to the department or otherwise. Would her customers, striving for beauty themselves, be encouraged or disheartened by the loveliness of the sales assistant?

  It was a question Muriel could not answer, and only time would tell.

  Now, she plastered a smile on her face and tried to make her tone friendly. ‘Of course. And though you woul
dn’t ordinarily be allowed staff discount yet, I’ll see what I can do for you. Ask Miss Jenkins if you can look at the items in the stockroom. We had a big sale in January because of stock reduction and obviously there are always some items that don’t sell even then. Not that I’m suggesting you should take anything you don’t like,’ Muriel added hastily, ‘but it might be worth a look.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Curtis,’ Kathy murmured, touched by the woman’s sudden understanding and kindness.

  Muriel was looking down at Kathy’s feet.

  ‘Er . . .’ she began hesitantly, but Kathy, making it easier for her, said quickly, ‘Yes, and I’ll be needing some new shoes too, though I don’t know if I can afford them this week. I must pay my way at Aunt . . . at Miss Robinson’s.’

  ‘Of course,’ Muriel said swiftly. ‘I’ll have a word with my colleague in footwear. I’m sure something can be arranged.’

  ‘I’m sure if you asked Mr Kendall, he’d let you have a pair on tick for a week,’ Stella put in. Her face was innocent, but Kathy was sure she caught a wicked gleam in the young girl’s eyes.

  The smile disappeared from Muriel’s face as she said tartly now, ‘You’d better be quick trying on those suits. The store will be locked up in thirty minutes. Unless, of course, you want to spend the night here.’ And with that last sarcastic barb, she turned away.

  Kathy stared after her. ‘Why did she say that?’

  Stella was giggling. ‘I think she was insinuating that you might want to get locked in on purpose. Mr Kendall is the only one who can get back into the store once it’s been locked up for the night and the night-watchman’s on duty.’

  Kathy blinked. ‘But why—?’

  ‘I expect she thinks you’re after him.’

  Colour suffused Kathy’s face. ‘After him? Mr Kendall? Oh, surely she doesn’t think that. She can’t!’

  ‘Why ever not? You’re pretty and Mr Kendall likes a pretty face.’

  Kathy was horrified. This job was going to be difficult enough to learn without her superior thinking she was setting her cap at the store’s manager. ‘But I’m not, I mean, I . . .’ Then she groaned and closed her eyes. ‘How can she even think such a thing?’

  ‘Jealousy’s a funny thing,’ Stella said. Though she was younger than Kathy, Stella had a streetwise knowledge that the country girl had yet to acquire. ‘And he’s not helped. He’s never even noticed me. He didn’t take me round the store when I started here, so you’d better watch it, because I think – even if you’re not interested in him – that he’s got his eye on you.’

  ‘Oh, crumbs!’ Kathy muttered and her blush deepened.

  Stella laughed. ‘Don’t look so woebegone. Just keep out of his way and do your best to butter up Miss Curtis. Now, come on, we’d better get these suits tried on else we really will get locked in.’

  ‘Very nice, dear. Very suitable. You’ve got good taste. It must come naturally because I’m sure you’ve never had the chance to buy any smart clothes for yourself before.’ Jemima, as ever, was blunt, and at her mention of the girl’s former life Kathy wondered what on earth her father would say if he could see her now, dressed in the tailored black suit with a crisp, white blouse beneath it. And he would be outraged at the elegant court shoes in place of her muddy wellingtons. But Amy . . .

  Jemima interrupted her wandering thoughts. ‘But it will certainly be an asset if you choose to continue working at the store.’

  Kathy smiled weakly. Did she really have any choice? Certainly not at the moment. She was honest enough to acknowledge that she had only been given a trial because of Jemima Robinson. Without her support and recommendation, there would have been no job. But she felt impelled to say, ‘Stella picked the suits out as being right to wear for work, Miss Robinson, not me. I – I’m sorry.’

  Jemima smiled. ‘No matter. I like your truthfulness. That goes a long way with me, my girl. I don’t like being lied to. Now, we should think about supper . . .’

  Over the meal, Kathy tried to broach the subject of Mr Kendall. ‘He seems nice,’ she began tentatively, but was shocked by Jemima’s swift glance and the pursing of her lips. ‘Oh, he is,’ the older woman remarked dryly. ‘Very nice.’ Then she murmured, ‘Too nice, sometimes.’

  Kathy’s sharp hearing had heard her words. ‘What do you mean? “Too nice”? How can anyone be “too nice”?’

  ‘He should remember his position. It doesn’t do for a store manager to be too familiar with his staff. Especially with the young women. It puts ideas into their silly heads. It doesn’t do at all.’ She sighed. ‘But I suppose he’s only young himself. He’s certainly very young to be in such a high position, but then I understand his mother . . .’ For some strange reason Kathy was sure that Jemima’s voice hardened as she mentioned Mr Kendall’s mother. ‘Pulled a few strings. She’s well connected.’

  ‘Oh? Is Mr Kendall from a wealthy family then?’

  Jemima gave a wry laugh. ‘Not really, his mother . . .’ Jemima stopped abruptly. ‘Dear me! What am I thinking of? Gossiping about my employers like this. I never do that. You’re a witch, young Kathy, to loosen my tongue so. Dear me. This will never do,’ she tutted primly.

  Kathy was disappointed. She’d hoped to learn quite a lot about the people she was to work with, but Jemima was pursing her lips as if to stop any further indiscretions escaping them. She tried one last time. ‘I just wondered if there was anything between him and Miss Curtis. She—’

  ‘Whatever gave you that idea? Oh, I see . . .’ Jemima added, answering her own question before giving Kathy time to say a word. ‘Stella.’

  ‘No,’ Kathy burst out, anxious that she should not get the young girl into trouble. ‘No, it wasn’t Stella. It was – well, I saw Miss Foster and Miss Curtis talking and – and she seemed, well – upset.’

  Jemima eyed her. ‘Kathy, my dear, let me give you a word of advice and you’d do well to heed it. You young girls should learn to keep your eyes and ears open, but your mouths very firmly closed. Whatever you hear in the course of your work either about other members of staff or about customers, you should keep to yourself. It doesn’t do to gossip, it really doesn’t.’

  With that Jemima stood up and began to clear the table, crashing the plates together with swift angry movements.

  Kathy bowed her head, dismayed that she had angered the woman who was being so kind to her. She said no more, silently vowing never to raise such a topic of conversation with Jemima again. But in truth the older woman’s very reticence had awoken a curiosity in Kathy.

  There was some mystery about the handsome Mr Kendall and Miss Curtis, and Kathy was determined to find out what it was.

  Seven

  Almost three weeks after Kathy’s arrival in Lincoln, Amy came to stay for the weekend, arriving on Friday evening when Kathy and Jemima got home from work. Taffy, ears flattened, fled the kitchen with a loud rattle of his cat-flap and retired to the washhouse at the bottom of the yard in a huff. All of a sudden there were too many people invading his domain!

  ‘What fun we’ll have!’ Amy trilled, hugging her friend.

  ‘That’s as may be,’ Jemima put in tartly. ‘You may be on holiday, but Kathy has a job of work to do. And I don’t want her appearing in the department bleary-eyed and looking like something the cat’s dragged in.’ She paused and looked about her. ‘And talking of cats, where’s Taffy?’

  The two girls glanced at each other and stifled their laughter.

  ‘I – I think he went out,’ Kathy said, keeping her face straight with a supreme effort and vowing at the same time to make a big fuss of the animal the moment Amy left.

  ‘Too many people about for his liking,’ Jemima murmured, and the two girls were left in no doubt that she shared her pet’s opinion.

  ‘We’ll go to the pictures tomorrow night,’ Amy said. ‘I’ll have a look what’s on when I go into town in the morning while you’re at work.’

  ‘It’ll be in the Echo,’ Jemima remarked. She reached down
at the side of her chair and held out the local evening paper.

  ‘What time do you finish work, Kathy?’ Amy asked, scanning the pages for the advertisement or a review of the city’s weekend entertainment.

  ‘Seven on a Friday and Saturday.’

  Amy pulled a face but forbore to make any comment in front of her aunt.

  ‘Ah, here we are.’ There was a slight pause, then she smiled. ‘We’re all right. The performance at the Regal is continuous from two o’clock until eleven, so we can just go in when you’re ready and see the programme round.’

  ‘What’s on?’

  ‘The Texans with Randolph Scott and Trouble in Panama.’

  ‘That first one sounds like a cowboy picture,’ Jemima murmured.

  ‘Oh, I say!’ Amy squeaked with delight. ‘Tyrone Power’s at the Central. He’s dishy! Oh, do let’s go and see him, Kathy. Please?’

  Kathy smiled at her friend’s girlish excitement. ‘Whatever you want. I’ve only ever been to the pictures once before, so I really don’t mind what I see. What film is it?’

  ‘Marie Antoinette with Norma Shearer. It says it’s a “spectacular drama of a scandal that rocked the world”.’

  ‘She gets her head chopped off in the end, doesn’t she? Very cheerful, I must say.’

  ‘But Kathy – Tyrone Power!’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Kathy laughed and held out her hands in submission. ‘We’ll go. Is it a continuous performance like the other one?’

  ‘Er – not sure, but I expect they’ll all be the same, won’t they?’

  ‘Well, we’ll give it a try.’

  ‘And if we go tomorrow night, we can have a lie in on Sunday morning . . .’

 

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