by Linda Finlay
Merry grinned at the whirlwind that had blown into the room. Sharing with this lively girl looked like being fun.
The door opened again and a sandy-haired girl of similar age, a cloak over her grey dress, stared warily at them.
‘Well, come on in, girl, and introduce yourself,’ Frankie urged. ‘I’m Frankie Brice but you can call me Freckles, and this is Merry Dyer.’
The girl smiled tentatively. ‘Prunella Prim.’
‘Well, Pru, come on in and dump your bag.’
‘I prefer to be called Prunella, if you don’t mind.’
Freckles raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, posh Prunella, have you travelled far?’ she asked, eyeing the girl’s smart valise.
‘From Higher Framington.’
‘Figures,’ Freckles grinned. ‘How did you get here?’
‘Father put his coach at my disposal,’ she said, taking off her cape and looking round for somewhere to hang it.
‘It seems we have to share this closet,’ Merry smiled, pointing to the corner. ‘It’s got a lovely mirror on it.’
‘Which is to be hoped you will put to good use,’ a brusque voice said. They looked up to see a woman of middle years, the dark grey of her dress relieved by a white lace colour, standing in the doorway. ‘I am Mrs Rose, your supervisor. Please check your appearance and follow me ready for inspection. You’d better look sharp, Mrs Smale hates to be kept waiting,’ the woman added before bustling away.
‘Aye aye, Captain,’ Freckles whispered, giving a salute and marching after her. ‘Wonder how many of us trainees they’ll be,’ she whispered as they descended the three flights of narrow stairs to the first floor.
‘There will be the three of you trainee sales assistants for the ladieswear side of the store, and three young,’ Mrs Rose coughed discreetly, ‘males to assist Jenkins in menswear. Not that you will have much to do with them after your induction this afternoon.’
‘Want to bet?’ Freckles giggled.
‘I am not a betting person, Miss Brice, and I sincerely hope you are not either.’ Mrs Rose coughed, then continued her way down the stairs.
‘Blimey, she’s got ears in her bottom,’ Freckles whispered. Merry smiled but Prunella frowned.
‘I do think you should be quiet,’ she whispered.
‘Oh glory, a Goody Two-Shoes,’ Freckles muttered, raising her brows.
The bottom of the third flight opened into a bright corridor and they followed the woman into a small, comfortably furnished room. As Freckles went to sit in one of the comfy chairs, the supervisor coughed again and frowned.
‘Remain on your feet, please, Miss Brice. Now stand tall, hands at your sides, whilst I inspect you before Mrs Smale arrives.’
Fighting down the urge to giggle, they did as they were told and the woman walked slowly round peering up and down.
‘Hands out.’ As Merry complied, the woman clicked her tongue. ‘Your skin is rather rough and red, Miss Dyer. If you are to handle the delicate materials in the store, you must rub them with lanolin each night to soften them.’
‘Yes, Mrs Rose,’ Merry answered, and was about to ask where she could obtain some but the woman had moved on.
‘Yours could be cleaner, Miss Brice.’
‘Yes, Mrs Rose,’ Freckles murmured.
‘But yours, Miss Prim, are beautifully manicured. Perhaps you could show the others how to keep their nails shaped and shiny.’
Prunella gave a self-satisfied smile.
‘Now stand ready to be presented to your manageress,’ Mrs Rose announced.
As the unsmiling Mrs Smale marched into the room and gave each of them a searching look, Merry’s heart sunk. Had she made a mistake coming here?
CHAPTER 12
‘Good morning, ladies. I will begin by outlining the rules and regulations of Didcot and Fairbright. You have already been made aware that your position here is under constant review and that for the first six months you are on probation. It goes without saying therefore that to disobey the rules would be foolhardy in the extreme.’ She paused and stared at each of them in turn. ‘You will rise at six o’clock each morning to clean the store and set out the stock. During this time you will wear the white smocks provided to cover your dresses. Once your duties have been carried out satisfactorily you will be permitted to have breakfast. You will then return to your room, remove your smocks and make yourselves ready for inspection. Provided you pass, you will follow Mrs Rose onto the shop floor and be assigned your duties for that day. Any questions?’
‘Will we take it in turns in serving the punters, Mrs Rose?’ Freckles asked, turning to the supervisor.
The girls watched in fascination as the woman’s cheeks turned from pink to red and her mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. It was Mrs Smale who answered, her words coming out staccato as if they’d be fired from a pistol.
‘You will not serve at all, Miss Brice. You will shadow.’
‘What?’
‘It is your duty to follow Mrs Rose, observe what she does and the way in which she performs her tasks. You will not speak unless she asks you a question and we do not have punters. We have clients.’
‘Oh clients,’ Freckles said, in such a perfect imitation of the woman that Merry had to bite her tongue to stop herself laughing out loud.
‘The store is open from eight a.m. until ten p.m. Monday to Saturday with half-day closing on Wednesday,’ the woman continued, oblivious.
‘Oh, goody, so we have the rest of Wednesday off then,’ Freckles said, turning to Merry.
‘No, Miss Brice, you do not.’ As the woman took a step towards them, the smell of stale cabbage wafted their way and Merry had to fight the urge to turn aside. ‘Sunday will be your day off. You will, of course, be expected to attend church, after which the rest of the day will be free. Whilst the store will be closed to clients on Wednesday afternoons it will remain open for carriage trade, when their servants can call to collect their employers’ purchases. Naturally they will use the trade entrance at the back of the store, as will you. The staff door is locked at ten thirty p.m. prompt, and anyone not in their room by that time will be severely reprimanded, if not dismissed. Now, if there are no more questions we will go through to the shop floor and appraise the stock.’
As the woman marched from the room, Mrs Rose following in her wake, Freckles turned to Merry.
‘Blimey oh rimey,’ she whistled.
‘I do think we should hurry,’ Prunella urged. ‘We don’t want to get into trouble on our first day, do we?’
‘No, girl, that would never do,’ Freckles muttered. ‘Is she for real?’ she whispered to Merry.
As Merry didn’t know if she was referring to Mrs Smale or Prunella, she just shrugged.
The rest of the morning passed in a whirl as seemingly drawer after drawer was opened, and numerous paper packages unwrapped to reveal their contents. There were shiny ribbons, intricate lace, braiding, threads, embroidery silks, buttons, gloves and scarves. Each drew a lengthy explanation from their manageress as to its quality and why it had been included in the stock. This was followed by examination of the materials. There were flannels, calico, linen, sheeting and any number of dress materials from muslins to bombazines, silks and satins in jewel colours. Instinctively, Merry reached out to stroke the glossy material, only to receive a frown from Mrs Smale.
‘You do not touch the merchandise, Miss Dyer, unless Mrs Rose or myself ask you to pass something to us. Now you have seen the wonderful array of stock that Didcot and Fairbright have and it will be up to us to ensure our clients are offered choice.’
‘You mean we’ve got to show them everything?’ Freckles gasped.
The manageress clicked her tongue. ‘Not everything, Miss Brice, but enough to meet requirements and preferably surpass them.’
‘By offering excellent service, you mean?’ Prunella asked.
‘That goes without saying, Miss Prim, for the client is paramount. What I actually meant was, if for example a clien
t asks to see a hat, we will show them what we have, advise on suitability. When they have made their choice, we then offer matching accessories.’
‘You mean we encourage them to spend more than they intended?’ Freckles laughed.
‘I meant that it is our duty to show them what might complete their outfit,’ Mrs Smale sniffed.
Freckles nudged Merry. ‘Just like I said,’ she whispered. ‘We get them to spend as much as possible.’
Merry had to smile at her new colleague’s knack of hitting the nail on the head.
‘Is this amusing you, Miss Dyer?’
‘Actually, I’m finding it all fascinating,’ Merry replied.
‘I’m pleased to hear it. Now everything will be customized as necessary to meet the client’s requirement. However, you will find out more about that when the store opens. We shall also be providing a prompt service for mourning requirements, and, of course, the family of the deceased will be treated with the utmost respect. Right, ladies, you may now take a fifteen-minute break for luncheon. The housekeeper, Mrs Jolly, will have a hot meal waiting in the staff-room, which is situated adjacent to the kitchen on the lower ground floor. Any questions?’ Mrs Smale asked.
But mention of food made them realize they were hungry, and Merry and Freckles quickly shook their heads.
‘I have one, Mrs Smale,’ Prunella ventured.
‘Yes, Miss Prim?’
‘You’ve shown us everything apart from what’s in that cupboard over there.’
‘Ah,’ the woman said while Mrs Rose coughed. ‘That is where we store the ready-made undergarments.’
‘A drawers drawer, you mean,’ chortled Freckles.
There was a sharp intake of breath.
‘Before the male trainees join us this afternoon, I think a lesson in diplomacy and manners is required. We will therefore reconvene at twenty minutes after noon,’ Mrs Smale told them. ‘Come along, Mrs Rose.’ With a glare at Freckles and Merry, the women marched from the room.
‘Blimey oh rimey,’ Freckles muttered, raising her eyebrows at Merry as they took their places at the table.
‘Why the glum faces, dearies?’ a rosy-cheeked woman asked, bustling in with bowls of mutton stew on a tray.
‘We think we may have upset our new manageress,’ Merry replied, her mouth watering in spite of her worries.
‘I’m sure I didn’t,’ Prunella said, looking self-righteous.
‘Oh, you don’t want to worry about Mrs Smale. Her new position has gone to her head. She’ll settle down in a few days. I’m Mrs Jolly, the cook-cum-housekeeper employed by Mr Didcot to look after you all. You girls can call me Joanie, though. It’s nice to meet you all. I’ll be in the scullery behind, if you want anything else. Now get that meal down you while it’s hot, then things won’t look so bad.’
‘My name’s Prunella Prim and I’d like a soup spoon, if you please?’
‘Well, the silver canteen is in Mr Didcot’s drawing room and …’
‘For heaven’s sake, girl, use the one you’ve got,’ Freckles cried.
‘But it’s a dessert spoon and it …’
‘… will be fine for soup,’ Freckles finished, raising her eyebrows at Merry again. While the two of them tucked in ravenously, Prunella sighed, then began delicately sipping.
Between spoonfuls of the delicious food, Merry looked out of the window. There was a neatly kept kitchen garden, stocked with herbs, and a crazy-paved path bordered with pansies leading onto a large yard with outhouses and stabling beyond. She returned her attention to the room, which was comfortably furnished, a fan of ornamental flowers arranged in the fireplace and pictures of woollen mills adorning the walls. It was all airy and spacious, and with a jolt Merry realized the whole of their cottage back home in Porthsallos would have fitted comfortably inside it.
‘That was lovely,’ Freckles said, pushing her empty bowl away. ‘If this is what we’ll be eating every day, I won’t have no complaints.’
‘Me neither,’ Merry agreed.
‘Personally, I feel a touch more seasoning would have …’ The rest of Prunella’s sentence was lost as Merry and Freckles groaned.
‘Finished, dearies?’ Joanie asked, bustling back into the room. ‘I’d have done a nice spotted dick for afters but Mrs Smale was adamant you were to stay alert for your training this afternoon.’
‘Mrs Smale was right, of course,’ Prunella agreed.
‘I would have liked some, especially if it’s a good as that soup,’ Freckles said.
Merry nodded, passing over her now empty dish. ‘Thank you, that was delicious. You’re a good cook, Joanie.’
The woman beamed, dimples appearing in her plump cheeks. ‘In that case I’ll steam one ready for your supper. Is there anything else you need?’
Merry held up her hands. ‘Do you have any lanolin, only Mrs Rose said my hands need looking after if I’m to touch the fine material?’
‘Don’t know about lanolin but I’m sure I can let you have some dripping. That might help.’
‘Thank you, Joanie,’ she replied, trying not to shudder.
‘Now if there’s nothing else, I’ll show you where the privy and pump are,’ she said, bustling from the room and leaving them to follow.
‘Going to be freezing out here in the winter,’ Freckles muttered as they stood washing their hands. ‘Mind you, your hands will be nice and warm coated in gloopy dripping,’ she hooted.
‘Don’t,’ Merry groaned.
‘What I’m worried about is having to come all this way in the middle of the night,’ Prunella said, glancing up at the attic room where they were to sleep.
‘Didn’t you see the guzzie under your bed?’ Freckles asked.
‘The what?’ Prunella frowned.
‘The pot you can use if you’re caught short in the middle of the night. Blimey, girl, even you must have had one at home.’
Prunella shook her head. ‘Actually, our facilities are indoors.’
‘Blimey, you must be seriously rich,’ Freckles whistled.
Seeing Prunella’s discomfort at being reminded of her circumstances, Merry changed the subject.
‘This is a huge yard, isn’t it?’ she said, staring around.
‘Indeed it is, Miss Dyer, and soon it will be bustling with activity,’ Mrs Rose said, appearing by their side. ‘Can’t you just visualize the carts rolling in with deliveries, carriages calling to collect client’s purchases?’ She clapped her hands in delight.
‘And guess who’ll be doing all the work,’ Freckles muttered.
‘I beg your pardon, Miss Brice?’ the woman frowned.
‘I said, it’s a good job they’ll have all this room to park, Mrs Rose.’
‘Indeed it is. Now come back inside. We mustn’t keep Mrs Smale waiting.’
Once they’d assembled in the same room as earlier, Mrs Rose carried out her inspection then gave a discreet cough. As if it were some prior signal, Mrs Smale appeared.
As she walked past them, Merry detected that smell of stale cabbage again. She turned to Freckles, who pinched her nose and grimaced.
‘Is something wrong, Miss Brice?’ the manageress enquired, with a quirk of her brow.
‘Just had an itch, Mrs Smale.’ The woman frowned.
‘Now before the male trainees join us, there are a few things we need to discuss,’ the manageress began. ‘Firstly, ladies, under-things are never referred to within clients’ hearing. In fact, should you have reason to refer to them at all it will be in hushed tones.’
‘But we all wear drawers, Mrs Smale.’
‘Whilst we are aware of that, Miss Brice, it is not ladylike to talk about such things and certainly never in the manner in which you refer to them. Should a client request any item of lingerie, they will be taken through to the dressing room and the article brought to them either by Mrs Rose or myself.’
‘And you wouldn’t expect us to shadow then,’ Prunella said.
‘Quite, Miss Prim, that would indeed be improper.
Whomever of you is assisting at the time will wait outside the dressing room in case the client requires another size. Then you will fetch the same and pass it discreetly through the curtain without showing your face. Client privacy is paramount.’
Merry smothered a smile. Back home, with them all sharing the one small room, privacy was something that was in short supply. In winter, when the windows were rimmed with ice inside, the main focus had been getting dressed as quickly as possible, if indeed they’d undressed in the first place.
‘Now we come to the etiquette of our establishment,’ the woman continued, her eyes narrowing as she stared intently at each of them in turn.
‘The what?’ Freckles whispered to Merry.
‘Miss Brice, you will please address me if you have any questions,’ Mrs Smale said. ‘Now, can either of you enlighten your colleague?’ she asked, turning to first Merry and then Prunella.
‘I believe you are referring to protocol, Mrs Smale,’ Prunella replied.
The manageress beamed. ‘Indeed I am, Miss Prim. On the shop floor it is I who oversees everything, Mrs Rose is my number two, and although you may ask her any questions, it is to me she defers. We will attend the clients and you will stand ready and waiting to assist when requested. There is to be no talking whilst on duty, unless you need to ask a pertinent question about a client’s requirement. If you accede to these simple rules then the shop floor will run smoothly.’
She was interrupted by two sharp raps on the door.
‘Do come in, Jenkins,’ she called.
A man of middle years, wearing a black suit and white-collared shirt, marched stiffly into the room. He was followed closely by a slightly younger man in dark grey and three nervous-looking youths dressed in jackets and trousers of the same lighter grey as the girls wore. Clearly this was to denote their status, Merry thought, jumping as Freckles jabbed her side.
‘Hey, things are looking up. That one with the sandy hair looks all right.’
As Merry looked at the young men, two of them grinned whilst the third bespectacled one stared down at the ground.