Moonlight on the Thames

by Lauren Westwood

  ‘Yeah, whatever.’ The girl didn’t even have the courtesy to sound offended. ‘Be my guest.’

  Nicola poked around the shop while the girl wrestled with the mannequin. She found a couple of decent handbags shoved on a tiny rack in the corner. The glass case underneath the till had some jewellery that would be passable, and on one of the overstuffed racks of clothing, she found a white faux-fur wrap that looked practically new. The majority of what was in the shop, however, needed to find its way to the nearest bin. She looked at a few tags that were on the nicer things. Nothing in the shop seemed to be priced at more than a fiver.

  ‘Put this on her.’ Nicola thrust the wrap and the jewellery in the direction of the girl. She took a pair of nude, high-heeled court shoes out of the bag she’d brought. ‘And put these in the window as well. They’re L.K. Bennett.’

  The girl finished dressing the mannequin. The rest of the shop still left everything to be desired, but at least it was a start.

  While she’d been looking for the jewellery, Nicola had spotted several unopened boxes behind the till. One of them was labelled ‘Xmas lights and decorations – shop.’ She opened the box.

  ‘Put up some lights around the window,’ Nicola directed the girl. ‘You need to make the place look a lot more Christmassy. Here…’ She tossed the girl a string of lights.

  ‘We,’ the girl said suddenly.

  ‘What?’

  The girl grinned. ‘You’re here now, volunteering. So you need to own it.’

  ‘One nil to you.’ Nicola smiled back grudgingly. Maybe the girl was not completely thick, just inexperienced.

  Nicola helped her untangle the cord of lights. Luckily, there were some nails already in place around the window, so it wasn’t difficult to drape the string of lights around the frame. But there was no plug. Nicola sent the girl out the back of the shop to look for an extension lead.

  Not even a second after the girl was gone, the bell on the door tinkled and a woman came in, pushing a pram. She was wearing a baggy blue tracksuit with spit-up on the shoulder. Her curly blonde hair needed a wash and her eyes had dark bags under them. Nicola supposed that having a baby did that to you.

  ‘Hello,’ the woman said. ‘Do you have any charity cards? The other shops are mostly sold out.’

  ‘Of course,’ Nicola said pleasantly. ‘We still have a great selection – let me get them for you.’ She walked quickly to the door to the back room. ‘Charity cards – now!’ she said in a sharp whisper.

  ‘Um, in the box by the till,’ the girl whispered back.

  Nicola went back out to the main shop and found a box shoved under the counter marked ‘charity cards’.

  ‘I’m sorry for the inconvenience,’ she said to the customer. ‘If you want to have a quick browse around, I’ll just get them out.’

  ‘OK,’ the woman said hesitantly. She pushed the pram up nearer the till where there was an open space. Nicola caught a glimpse of the baby, bundled up in a fluffy pink suit and hat. Its blue eyes were open, and it – she, probably – was sucking on a pink plastic dummy. Nicola looked away, feeling a little pang somewhere inside her.

  Lifting the box on to the counter, she tore it open. There were packs of cards in twelve different designs. She took out one of each and put them on the empty card rack next to the CDs.

  ‘Here you go,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a really nice selection this year.’ She held one out with a picture of a robin in a Santa Claus hat. ‘This one is cute.’

  But she wasn’t sure the woman even heard. She was staring at the blue velvet wrap dress on the mannequin. ‘How much is that dress?’ the woman asked. ‘The one in the window.’

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Nicola said. ‘And so flattering on. It’s from Whistles – completely sold out last season. It’s hardly been worn at all. And that deep blue colour would really suit you.’

  The woman blushed. ‘Well, I don’t know.’

  ‘I happen to know that it cost over a hundred and fifty pounds new. You can have it for – say – thirty-five.’

  ‘Well…’

  Another first – at this moment, Nicola actually felt grateful for her PA Chrissie’s annoying habit of buying and selling things on eBay during worktime and bragging about what she’d paid for this dress or that pair of shoes, and how much she’d got at auction for this handbag or that jumper. Nicola had never bought or sold anything on eBay but she wasn’t about to let the Whistles dress go for a fiver.

  ‘Really, you must try it on. Let me get it off the mannequin for you.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go to any trouble…’

  ‘It’s no trouble. That’s what we’re here for. And all the money goes to a great cause. Helping to rehouse homeless people and refugees. It’s very difficult this time of year for people on the streets. So dark, and cold…’ Nicola went to the newly dressed mannequin and stripped it bare. The girl had come out from the back, and was staring dumbly at Nicola, watching the whole proceeding. Nicola gestured to the girl to plug in the Christmas lights.

  Nicola had just got the dress and wrap off the mannequin when the baby started to grizzle. A second later, the dummy clattered to the floor. The baby started to cry.

  ‘Oh dear,’ the woman said. ‘I suppose I should go. She needs a feed.’

  ‘You’re welcome to feed her in the back if you like,’ Nicola said. ‘Then you can try the dress on when you’re done. Really, there’s no rush.’ She gestured to the girl. ‘Take that dummy and wash it off. And make sure there’s a chair and whatever else the lady needs for the baby.’

  The girl’s mouth dropped open. But she did as Nicola directed.

  ‘Thank you, you’re so kind,’ the woman said. ‘It’s so hard to find a place to feed her in town.’

  ‘I understand. Here’s the dress,’ she held it out to the woman. ‘And try the wrap too. It’s from Debenhams, and it’s “as new”. Ten pounds. Of course, we can give you a small discount if you buy multiple items.’

  ‘What about those shoes in the window?’ the woman said hopefully. ‘The L.K. Bennett ones. What size are they?’

  ‘Size 6,’ Nicola said. ‘Would you like to try them too?’

  ‘Yes please.’ The woman looked flustered but excited as Nicola brought everything to the back of the shop for her. Of course, the back of the shop looked like a cyclone had gone through it, but that couldn’t be helped.

  The girl brought the dummy back to the woman, holding it with two fingers like it was a dirty tissue. The woman took it gratefully.

  ‘OK, I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Nicola said to the woman. ‘You,’ she gestured to the girl, lowering her voice, ‘come give me a hand. We need all the Christmas stuff out now.’ She closed the door on the woman and the baby. ‘And by the way, what’s your name?’

  ‘Shelley,’ the girl said, her mouth turned down like an open umbrella.

  ‘OK, Shelley, I’m Nicola. Nice to meet you. But there’s an awful lot of work to be done before this place is even remotely ready for the holiday season. Which, in case you didn’t realise, is half over. You should have had this stuff out in early November. Late October even.’

  ‘Charles said to go through the CDs.’

  ‘Is Charles the boss?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Where is he, anyway?’

  ‘He had to take some stuff to the shelter. I guess he’s having a coffee there or something.’

  ‘Fine, well, why don’t we give him a nice surprise when he gets here? Get the shop looking more festive. Do you like Christmas, Shelley?’

  ‘I dunno. I guess I did when I was a kid.’

  ‘I think everyone feels that way a little bit,’ Nicola said. For her it was certainly true. ‘But the point is, at Christmastime, people are more likely to give to charity and care about homeless people and refugees. You got it?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘So everyone that comes into this shop must buy something. The more, the better. So get those cards o
ut and start clearing away some of the clutter so you can unpack these boxes.’ Nicola pointed to two more boxes behind the till marked ‘gift wrap’ and ‘ornaments’.

  ‘Fine but—’ the girl broke off. ‘Who left this stuff?’ She pointed to the carrier bags on the counter.

  ‘I did. I said I had clothing to donate. Like that dress she’s trying on.’ Nicola gestured with her head towards the back room.

  The girl stood up a little straighter, suddenly more knowing. ‘We can’t take this stuff. I mean, the bras, yeah, they’re fine.’ She picked up a black bra and ran her finger over the soft satin. ‘But we don’t take knickers. You’ll need to throw those in the bin.’

  ‘Throw them in the bin?’ Nicola stared at her. ‘Do you know how much those cost? There are sets there from Agent Provocateur, Boux Avenue, Intimissimi. It’s all washed and in perfect condition.’

  ‘Like I said, we can take the bras, but not the knickers.’ Shelley crossed her arms.

  ‘Well that makes no sense.’ Nicola’s voice rose. ‘I mean, you can sell whatever you like in your shop, but don’t homeless women need knickers too? Or refugees?’

  ‘It’s policy—’

  Just then, the door opened and a man came in. He looked like he was in his late-twenties, early-thirties. He had thinning ginger hair and a bit of stubble on his face that Nicola thought might be an attempt at a beard. Above the stubble, his cheeks were pitted with acne scars. He was wearing a checked flannel shirt and a pair of baggy jeans.

  ‘Charles.’ The girl threw down the black bra she was holding. ‘Thank God you’re here. This woman, like, wants us to sell her old knickers!’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake.’ Nicola began packing everything back into the bag. Her face felt like it was on fire. But when she looked up again at the man, she could see that policy or no, he was far from horrified at the prospect of her donation. He gave her the kind of smile that she recognised well. The kind that made her want to get the hell out of there.

  Too late. He was already up at the counter. Though he didn’t reach into the bag, he did take a good look. ‘Designer, is that right?’

  ‘High street,’ she said, not looking at him. ‘But expensive, and…’ she lowered her voice, ‘for heaven’s sake, it’s all been washed.’

  ‘I understand,’ Charles said. ‘And we definitely appreciate all donations.’ His eyes brushed hers and she could guess the extent of his appreciation.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t sound like it from the way she talks.’ Cringing with embarrassment, Nicola pointed at Shelley.

  ‘It’s true,’ Charles said. ‘It’s a big challenge for us to get enough clean clothing to supply to the people we’re trying to help. But there are other issues besides hygiene. It’s… I’m not quite sure how to put this… whether or not the clothing we distribute sends the right message. We’ve got a number of churches involved in funding the Care charity.’

  ‘The right message?’ Nicola wasn’t sure if she felt more like laughing in his face or whacking him. ‘So you’re saying that you don’t want your homeless women and refugees to have something nice – sexy. You’re afraid they’re going to look like sluts, is that it?’

  ‘No, of course that’s not—’

  ‘That IS it.’ And she did laugh then. At him, at herself, at the ludicrous situation. ‘Will it help send the “right message” if I take away the gifts from my married lover?’ she said, deciding to confront him head on. ‘And things I’ve worn on one-night stands with God knows who?’

  Charles’ face turned an unflattering shade of pink. Shelley’s cheeks were puffed out and she looked like she might burst – into giggles, Nicola assumed.

  ‘Let’s see…’ Nicola rummaged in the bag and held up a green satin and lace bra, ‘last time this one was on the front lines, it was an oil exec from Houston. He said his name was Colin, but I’m sure that was fake.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And then there’s this one…’ she pulled out a see-through black thong. Charles’ eyes looked like they were going to pop. ‘Ollie gave this to me after standing me up around Valentine’s Day. It was his wife’s mother’s eightieth birthday or something. He has a lot of relatives, and they always seem to be having birthdays—’

  The door at the back of the shop opened up. All three of them turned as the woman with the baby came out. She was wearing the midnight blue wrap dress, the L.K. Bennett shoes and the faux fur wrap. The baby was slung over her shoulder. She patted it on the back and it gave out a loud belch.

  ‘How do I look?’ the woman said.

  Nicola stepped forward, gave the neckline of the dress a little tug, then stood back. The woman was rounder and plumper on the bottom than Nicola, and the dress hugged her figure. No longer did she look like the tired, overwrought mum who had walked into the shop earlier. Now, she looked happy and radiant. ‘I think it’s fabulous on you,’ Nicola said, beaming her encouragement.

  The woman eyed Nicola closely. ‘This was yours, right? You donated it?’

  ‘Yes.’ Nicola felt the skin on her neck begin to crawl.

  ‘And has it seen, umm… as much “front-line action” as the other stuff?’ She had a twinkle in her eye now.

  Shelley gave out a little snort.

  Nicola gave the woman a knowing smile. ‘As I said earlier, it’s barely been worn at all.’

  ‘I’ll take it,’ the woman said. ‘And the wrap and the shoes.’

  ‘May they serve you well,’ Nicola said.

  The woman returned to the back room to change into her normal clothes.

  As soon as the door closed, Nicola turned to Charles and Shelley. ‘She should get a discount for multiple items. Let’s say – ten per cent. And really, Charles,’ she lowered her eyelids, reached out and put a hand on his arm, feeling him jolt, ‘this shop is a disgrace.’ She removed her hand, sharpening her voice. ‘You need to clear out all the rubbish and get the Christmas displays up. Today.’

  ‘She told me to get the Christmas ornaments out,’ Shelley moaned. ‘I told her you said to do the CDs.’

  ‘No, she’s right,’ Charles said, looking completely flustered now. ‘We need to get the shop looking better for Christmas. This is our busiest time of year.’

  Nicola shoved the last of the underwear back into the bag. ‘You should start by redoing the window display,’ she said. ‘There are some more shoes in that bag, and a suit you can use.’ Nicola pointed to the second bag she’d brought. ‘The suit is from Jaeger. Don’t sell it for less than forty-five pounds.’

  ‘Forty-five pounds,’ Charles repeated, sounding a little flabbergasted.

  ‘Now, tell me where that homeless shelter is, and I’ll go there now, and take the “unwanted items” with me.’

  ‘Gosh, um… yes,’ Charles stammered. ‘I mean, it’s up towards Sheen…’

  ‘I know where it is.’ The woman with the baby came out of the back. The baby was asleep in the pram and the woman put her purchases on the counter by the till. She took a pack of charity cards off the rack and added them to the pile. ‘I’m walking that way – I can drop it for you.’

  Nicola nodded. ‘Yes, thanks. It’ll save me the bother.’ She wondered if the lingerie in the bag would actually find its way to the shelter. If not, fine – she didn’t care. Let it go to a new home where it would be appreciated.

  ‘Ring up the sale and give her ten per cent off,’ she directed Charles. He didn’t even open his mouth to question the order.

  It seemed to take forever as he typed the numbers into the computer.

  ‘That’s…’ he looked at the figures on the till screen a second time, like he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

  ‘Sixty-one pounds twenty-five.’ Nicola did the maths quickly in her head.

  ‘A bag costs five p,’ Shelley said, unhelpfully.

  Both Nicola and, to his credit, Charles, glared at her. ‘Never mind about that,’ he said.

  The woman took out her card, put it in the machine and typed in her pin. ‘Are you g
oing to be donating any more lovely clothes to this shop?’ she asked Nicola. ‘I might come round again next weekend.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Nicola mused. ‘So far, doing a clear-out has been quite… liberating.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ The woman smiled.

  With a pout on her face, Shelley started to shove the woman’s purchases in the bag. Nicola stopped her and made her fold the dress and the wrap properly. The woman took the bag of lingerie and shoved it underneath the pram.

  ‘Thank you for stopping by,’ Nicola said to the woman. She went to the door and held it open for her.

  ‘Oh, you’re welcome. Thank you. And Happy Christmas.’

  ‘Happy Christmas,’ Nicola returned, without hesitation.

  As soon as the woman was gone, she went back to Charles and Shelley at the till to retrieve her coat.

  ‘I’m off then,’ she said. ‘Good luck – I think you’re going to need it.’

  Shelley rolled her eyes, but Charles came forward from behind the till. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘That sale was more than we make most days.’

  ‘Well, that needs fixing,’ Nicola said. ‘You’ve got to put in more effort.’

  ‘Do um… you want to come back?’ he said. ‘Help out with some volunteering?’

  ‘I’m not going to commit to anything,’ Nicola said. ‘But I will come back sometime soon and drop off more stuff.’

  ‘OK,’ Charles said. ‘Thanks for that.’ He suddenly peered at Nicola in a way that made her quite uncomfortable. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘you look familiar. Do I know you?’

  She laughed. ‘I may not remember names, but I can absolutely assure you that we have never met.’

  ‘No, I don’t mean that.’ He met her eyes boldly. ‘It’s just I have seen you before. At Waterloo Station. And then again on the Richmond train.’

  It was Nicola’s turn to be mortified. It was all too terrible to contemplate. ‘Are you saying that…?’

  ‘I’m in the choir. At St Anne’s. Yes – your hair is different, but I’m sure it was you.’