The Phoenix of Montjuic

by Jeremy D. Rowe

  Eduard had been listening to the conversation, and turned to his father. “We could go upstairs.”

  “What?” said Manel.

  “That apartment over our grocer’s shop: it’s been empty as long as I can remember. What if Mother and Clara opened a dress shop upstairs, and we had the grocer’s downstairs?”

  Anna looked at her son, and spoke slowly. “It’s an odd idea, but it might work. We could sell fabrics for people who wish to make their own clothes, and sell made-to-measure dresses for ladies who want us to make them for them.”

  “For men, you could have shirts ready-made,” said Eduard.

  Clara had been listening with growing excitement, “I’m sure it would work!” she said.

  “Let me think about it,” said Manel. “We’d have the grocery department downstairs, and the clothing upstairs. I have heard that in Madrid there are such shops, called department stores. I think they’re much bigger than we would be.”

  “I’ve been saving all the money from the re-making and repairs we’ve been doing at home,” said Anna. “We can use it to buy our stock.”

  “Slow down,” said Manel. “We don’t know anything about the apartment over the shop – and even if it is available, we don’t know if we can afford to rent it. Everyone calm down and wait for me to investigate.”

  Barcelona was recovering slowly from the war. Some of the bomb sites were being rebuilt, and squares which had been destroyed by the bombardment were reclaimed, new trees planted, and grass seed sown. It seemed to be in keeping with some of the other developments, that the Bonet family business would expand. The apartment over their grocery shop was unexpectedly large, extending over Sergio’s cycle shop as well as over their own premises. When he saw how large the space was, Manel was fearful that they could not afford the rent, but the landlord was pleased to let the property cheaply after so many years of it being empty and producing no income.

  There was a lot of work to be done. The narrow staircase from the street was the biggest worry – “Not a suitable way to get into a respectable shop,” said Anna. A carpenter was found, who came with an astonishing solution. He knew of a large house in Gracia which had been extensively damaged during the war. The house had had a very grand staircase, which had survived the bomb largely intact. The carpenter had saved the staircase, and was anxious to sell it as it took up so much space in his yard. With much head-scratching, the family looked at the challenge, and together they worked out how they could get the new stairs into the shop.

  The carpenter arrived with the staircase incongruously on a large hand-cart. He was assisted by a rather solemn and sad young man who turned out to be his son. The two of them, assisted by Manel, and with much encouragement from Clara and Eduard, manoeuvred the awkward staircase into position.

  The old apartment on the first floor was a rabbit warren of small rooms, and with some trepidation, they worked with the carpenter to take some of them out. They made good the floor, but realised with their budget running low, they could not afford such luxuries as carpets.

  Once more, it was resurrecting the debris and detritus of the war which enabled them to fit out the shop. Here and there, small rugs covered the worst of the worn-out floor boards, and a motley collection of tables, chairs and chests were gradually assembled from the large number of junk-yards in the city.

  Whilst all this work was going on, Anna continued to sew busily at her kitchen table, aware that the more repairs she could manage, the more income they could accumulate to buy the stock for the new shop. Eduard worked hard in the grocer’s enabling his father to go upstairs and help with the renovations.

  Both Sergio and Carlos came to see progress, and spent many hours sorting out the electric lights, Carlos learning new skills from his boss as they did so.

  They decided that Anna’s sewing machine would be installed in one of the larger upstairs rooms, and they bought a second machine for Clara so that customers inspecting the goods would be able to see her at work – “That will be a bit of a novelty!” said Manel. “They’ll watch you making the clothes that they can then buy.”

  One room was designated for customers to try on garments, and another set aside for men’s clothing, “Although that will be ready-made,” said Anna. “Trousers and shirts take too long to make.”

  Production of cotton fabrics was slowly re-starting in the city, and Manel visited a number of cloth warehouses. He chose one where there was a wide selection of fabrics, and the prices seemed reasonable. He took Anna with him to choose their initial stock, and they made a down-payment on many rolls of cloth. Whilst Anna continued with the daily sewing and mending, Clara was designing and making dresses, using floral fabrics, as well as a few severe grey and black dresses for older ladies. She used herself, her mother and Senora Pinto as models. The stock was growing, the premises taking shape, and the idea was becoming a reality. The time had come for the grand opening.

  To prepare for the big day, Anna had cut several old bed-sheets in half, and hemmed them to make banners. “Your grandmother would be horrified at the waste,” she told Clara. “She used to sides-to-middle old sheets.”

  “What was that?” said Clara.

  “She cut the sheet down the middle, then stitched the two outer edges together, and then hemmed the outside. This meant that the worn out part of the sheet was on the edge, and the less worn part was in the middle, where you lay.”

  “But then you’d be sleeping on a big thick seam,” said Clara. “That must have been uncomfortable.”

  “It was,” said her mother, “but that’s what you do when money is short.”

  Eduard and Manel painted the bed-sheet-banners with red lettering: “Grand opening! Ladies dresses! Fabrics and Haberdashery! Gents clothing! Repairs and alterations!”

  “Far too many exclamation marks,” said Anna.

  “What’s that funny word, haber-something?” said Eduard.

  “Reels of cotton, and buttons, needles and pins, all the things you need for sewing,” said Clara, with self-importance.

  They spent the evening before the opening, nailing the banners to the front of the shop, Manel climbing precariously on a high ladder to get the maximum impact. To their surprise, they attracted a small crowd. Once all the banners were secure, they stood back to admire their handiwork.

  “It’s wonderful,” said Clara.

  Quietly Anna turned to Manel. “Actually, it’s all a bit ramshackle,” she said. “It doesn’t look much like those grand department stores in Madrid.”

  “But we’ve made this from the debris of war,” said Manel. “We’ve re-used all kinds of things from bombed buildings. It’s a triumph.”

  “I saw a photograph of a huge department store in London. It was called John Lewis and was very grand,” said Anna. “I expect it was named after the man who started it.”

  “Yes, but is it still there?” said Manel. “With the terrible bombing in that city, the grand department stores in London may no longer be standing.”

  “Let’s go home,” said Anna. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  Later, in bed, Anna spoke quietly to Manel. “We’ve not made a huge mistake have we? We’ve sunk all our savings into the shop. What happens if it doesn’t work?”

  “We’re taking a risk,” said Manel, “of course we are. But we’d never know without trying. We could stay with one little corner shop for the rest of our lives, but I want more, for me, for you and for our children. We would regret it for years if we hadn’t taken this risk.”

  Anna smiled. “And it’s all down to chance remarks by Clara and Eduard. We are lucky to have such good children.”

  The next morning, Tuesday 6th June 1944, they set off down Balmes to the shop. Senora Pinto had been invited to assist if the shop became crowded. Manel and Eduard would have to remain in the grocery shop, coping with the usual queue of customers with their ration books. Anna, Clara and Senora Pinto would be upstairs. By nine o’clock all was ready, and the family were delighted
to find a small crowd had gathered. Many were excited to see the new department upstairs, and quickly the shop was full. Manel sent Eduard to get Carlos to stand at the bottom of the stairs to try and regulate the numbers trying to go up.

  Not surprisingly, many of the shoppers were simply curious, but there were genuine customers, some buying lengths of cloth to make into clothes for themselves or their children, and even a few buying Clara’s ready-made creations.

  It was difficult emptying the shop to close for the siesta, as it was still crowded, but once they had managed to shut the door, they gathered in the grocery.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Senora Pinto. “I didn’t think there would be much for me to do, but I’ve been busy all morning.”

  “Amazing,” said Anna.

  “There’s a problem,” said Clara, “although it’s a good problem. I can’t make new dresses as fast as we’re selling them.”

  “I wondered about that,” said Anna. “Eventually we must train someone else on a sewing machine. You can sit and make made-to-measure dresses, and I’ll continue with alterations, and Senora Pinto, you will have to be our sales assistant.”

  “I wasn’t expecting a full-time job,” exclaimed Senora Pinto, “but I’ve had the best morning since my Carlos came home. I’d love to keep working for you.”

  Behind the counter, Manel was making lunch. “It’s hardly a celebration meal,” he said, “but it’s the best I can do. Eduard, go next door and bring Sergio here. We must thank him for lending Carlos to us for the morning. They can have part of our picnic in the shop.”

  The ham may have been sliced very thinly, there may have been no butter, and the bread may have been hard and black, but few picnics had tasted as sweet as the simple lunch the family shared on that memorable day.

  The afternoon was calmer than the morning until the first editions of the evening paper arrived. The family had been too busy to notice the news, but they couldn’t ignore the headlines. “British and Americans invade France!” said the paper’s headline.

  “What a good omen,” said Manel. “We opened our shop on the same day.” The next edition of the paper had more news, and although it was filtered through the Fascist censorship, it became clear that the Allied Forces had established a bridgehead on the French coast.

  A good number of excited customers came into the shop later in the day, as if the excellent news from the war had encouraged them to go shopping. They admired the grand staircase, which they had not expected in the rather humble situation, and they were impressed by the clothing and fabrics on sale. Anna was pleasantly surprised that so many were prepared to try to make their own clothes, and were interested in buying fabric. One or two asked her quietly if she would help them, if the challenge became too great, and she readily agreed.

  At the end of the first day, as a very weary Manel was locking the door, Sergio came out to congratulate him. “You’ve done a great job, Senor Bonet. Perhaps I should sell my cycle shop to you, to increase your little empire!”

  “That would be good!” laughed Eduard.

  “I’m not looking to do anything else at the moment,” smiled Manel. “We’ve used every penny we had, and we will need quite a long time to consolidate the business before we expand again.”

  It quickly became apparent that Manel and Anna would need more staff. They had not expected to employ anyone else so soon, but even after the first day, and the almost accidental employment of Senora Pinto, they realised they needed help. Eduard, despite his youth, was almost in charge of the grocery department, whilst Manel had to divide his time between visiting wholesale markets, interviewing new staff, and managing the growing business.

  In the prolonged aftermath of the Spanish war, there were many looking for work. Manel was struck by the number of young widows, desperate since their husbands had been killed, anxious to work in a job which was seen as respectable, and superior to being in a factory. He was impressed by one young woman who wanted to run a gloves department, and after investigating sources of gloves, he employed her. She quickly developed a stock of ladies’ gloves ranging from fine leather to home-knitted woollen mittens, and even offered a limited number of gloves for men.

  From the idea of buying hand-knitted gloves from women working in their own homes, Anna encouraged many different kinds of out-workers, and she was very excited to find a lady who could knit prodigiously quickly and produce beautiful jumpers and cardigans. It was not long before she was sewing “Bonet” labels into the knitwear as well as the dresses Clara was making.

  The summer of 1944 passed in a whirlwind of activity in the shop. In August, they all stopped to celebrate the liberation of Paris. “What will Franco do now?” said Anna. “It seems the tide has turned in the war against Hitler. The Nazis are no longer winning.”

  “Don’t count on it,” said Manel gloomily. “The German war machine isn’t beaten yet. The real celebration will come when the Americans and the British walk into Berlin. Until then, we’ll just have to go on holding our breath.”

  “But if Hitler is beaten, Franco will have to go, won’t he?” said Eduard.

  “Possibly,” said his father, “but who knows? There’s no certainty in politics or war.”

  Although the Bonet family was thriving, they could not ignore the deprivations which surrounded them. Some people were becoming rich through the black market, but many remained in poverty. Many people still needed the pawn brokers run by the Catholic Church, and Anna was saddened by the constant stream of neighbours taking their things to be pawned.

  One day, Father Matias stopped her at the door of the church.

  “Senora Bonet,” he said, “I have seen your husband’s shop doing well, and I congratulate you on his success. I have a strange problem which your husband may be interested in helping me with.”

  Anna frowned, and said, “Go on.”

  “There are many items in the pawn shop which have been there for a long time, some of them for years. No-one is likely to come back and redeem them, and the church does not want to continue storing such things. We need to sell much of this stuff and use the money for the work of the Lord. Do you think your husband would be interested in buying some of these things for his shop?”

  “I’ll come and see what you’ve got,” said Anna.

  “Well, no, I think it should be your husband. After all, I am proposing a business deal.”

  With a slight intake of breath, Anna replied, “I’ll speak to him directly.” Barely disguising her dislike of the priest, she turned abruptly, and left.

  With Eduard firmly in charge of the grocery, and the new girls upstairs with Clara, Manel and Anna visited the priest the same afternoon. They were astonished at the range of items accumulated by the church, and saddened to see how many of the garments were obviously new or hardly worn. People had pawned their best clothes, to get the most money. They could imagine the heartbreak represented by the melancholic collection.

  “We’ll buy clothing which is new, or appears to be new,” said Anna. “We will consider some of the domestic items such as crockery and cutlery, but again only those things which seem to be new. We are a department store and we hope to build a reputation for quality. We are not a second-hand shop. However, there are a few other things we’ll take such as the two or three good carpets.”

  “Senor Bonet,” said the priest, “are you allowing your wife to run your business?”

  “We work together,” said Manel coolly, “and she is an excellent judge of these things. I will, of course, agree to all she suggests.”

  The clothing they bought from the pawnbroker was taken home, laundered as necessary, carefully ironed, and then added to the stock in the shop. The bulk of the collection was men’s garments, and they were very conscious that a lot of it came from men who had died in the war. Brides had carefully preserved new shirts, ties, suits, even some special items like cuff-links, often in their original packaging, waiting for their husbands to come home from the war; but the
y had never returned.

  “I was uncomfortable re-making clothes from dead men, like Senora Pinto’s husband,” said Anna. “Now I’m worried that we’re making a profit from dead men’s clothes.”

  “We’ve employed several people in our store,” said Manel, “and they must be paid. We’re giving employment to others who may not otherwise have a job. We’ll sell the stuff from the pawnshop in order to keep our employees paid, and that way we can see the things benefitting our community.”

  “Put that way, it’s not so bad,” said Anna, “but I’m still worried by it.”

  “We’re not making the kind of money that those wide-boys running the black market are making,” said Manel, “and what about the Fascists at the town hall, dipping their hands into every honey pot? Everyone who can, is profiting from the war.”

  The random collection of household articles were cleaned and polished, and displayed in a small room they called “Homewares”.

  Later Anna went down to Sergio in the bicycle shop. “There are several good-looking bicycles at the pawnbrokers,” she said. “They will clean up very nicely I think. There’s even a Vespa scooter.”

  Carlos looked up. “A Vespa!” he exclaimed. “Now that would be a very interesting thing. I could work on it, clean it up, get it started. I expect we could sell it at a good profit.”

  With some difficulty, Carlos managed to push the Vespa scooter up the hill to Sergio’s workshop. In between his usual chores mending bicycles, he worked on the scooter, initially taking it completely apart, and then reassembling it. At last it was finished and placed on display at the door of the shop. Carlos looked at it longingly for some time, wondering if he could manage to ride it.

  One evening, after the shops had closed, he asked Eduard to help him. They started the engine, and Eduard steadied the scooter whilst Carlos climbed on, dropping his crutches as he did so. He twisted the throttle, and suddenly he was careering down Balmes. He turned unsteadily into Valencia, and the sound of the scooter died away. Eduard watched with a mixture of admiration and horror.