Our Best Attention

by Jane Tulloch

  No one could say that she wasn’t a considerate employer.

  “Yes, madam, I mean Miss Murray,” stammered the man and set off at a trot towards the staff stairs.

  “Outside the building?” queried Mrs Pegram.

  “Yes,” replied her friend. “I’ve been reading up on secret rooms. Sometimes you can spot windows that can’t be accounted for on floor plans. It would be so exciting to find one. It could be a perfect time capsule of old stock or anything really.”

  “Oh well, let’s go then.” The two women moved towards the lift then changed their minds and took the stairs. Setting a good example to any staff that they might meet, thought Miss Murray smugly. Mrs Pegram, panting behind her in her new court shoes, looked resentfully at Miss Murray’s tweed-covered back as she disappeared at speed round the corner of the sixth flight of stairs.

  After a brief halt for a cup of coffee, they carried on outside the building and crossed the road in order to get a better view of the whole front elevation. Floor by floor they scrutinised the building, storey by storey they looked up then checked with the building plan that Timmins had left with them. Mrs Pegram apologised to passers-by as they made their irritated way round the two women blocking the middle of the pavement and staring upwards. Some stopped and joined in looking up too until Mrs Pegram explained. Miss Murray was intensely disappointed to find that they could account for every window. Moving round to the side of the building and again systematically looking at each window there was a brief false alarm but this was resolved as it was found, on examination of the building plan, to be the fourth-floor gentlemen’s lavatories. Moving swiftly on after that to the rear, no further anomalies were identified.

  “Oh well, at least we tried,” said Miss Murray.

  “What must people have thought though?” replied her friend. “Especially that bit when we both shouted out, ‘It’s the Gents’!”

  “People are used to that sort of thing,” was the dismissive response.

  Mrs Pegram looked her askance. “If you say so. Anyway. Let’s go in, I’m freezing.”

  They made their way, fortunately for Mrs Pegram whose feet were throbbing, by lift to the attic floor. Mr Timmins was waiting for them with a large old-fashioned key in his hand.

  “I found it,” he said brandishing it. “It took some doing but I’ve tried it and it does work.”

  “Oh good. Now you go first and get that door open for us,” instructed Miss Murray.

  “Right-o,” he said and set off up the short flight of stairs. Headroom was cramped and the door was not full-sized. “It’s a bit Alice in Wonderland, isn’t it?” commented Mrs Pegram as she struggled up the steps behind Miss Murray.

  The door creaked open after a final push and chilly light flooded down towards them. Miss Murray took a deep breath as she stepped out on to the roof of her building.

  “Blimey!” Mrs Pegram forgot herself. “What an amazing view.” The beautiful old city spread out around them. From this vantage point there was a 360-degree panorama spreading from buildings old and new to far-off hills and the sea itself stretching, glistening to the horizon. Timmins and Mrs Pegram were so busy marvelling at the view that they were not aware at first of Miss Murray stepping forward.

  “My God!” said Miss Murray using an unaccustomed exclamation. “Look, just look!”

  “I know,” said Mrs Pegram. “You can see for miles.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” said her friend “I mean look at this.” She spread her arms out indicating the roof area itself. “This space. It’s amazing. It’s so big. I suppose it’s safe to stand on?” she queried, looking down. “It looks in good condition though. Father was very keen to make sure the building was always completely up to scratch.”

  They stood there for some time, Mr Timmins growing colder and colder and thinking ruefully of his cosy ‘cubby-hole’. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, the ladies turned round and made for the door. Descending the little stairs, Miss Murray turned to Timmins.

  “Just leave the key with me, please. Thank you for showing us around today. It’s been most helpful and interesting.” She smiled genuinely at him. He was charmed, as she had intended. It was good to have friends among the staff.

  Sensing himself dismissed he set off gratefully to the staff staircase, the prospect of a warming cuppa and session with his paper cheering him on the long winding way down.

  Back in Miss Murray’s office Mrs Pegram eased off her new shoes. She looked at her friend who sat deep in thought. “Well?” she ventured. “What do you think? Is your empire up to scratch?”

  “Oh yes,” came the heartfelt response, “and so much better than I had hoped.”

  “Really? We didn’t find any stowaways. The roof garden was lovely though. I mean the roof.”

  “That’s it!”

  “What’s it?”

  “A roof garden. We should have a roof garden. It’s such a beautiful view, such a wonderful space and we never suspected it might be there.” Her mind was humming with ideas.

  “Sorry, Louise, you get on, I know you’ve such a lot to do and I’ve taken up so much of your time. I want to think about this.” She drew a notepad towards her.

  “OK, then,” her companion said then, wincingly, drew on her shoes and left the office.

  The next morning at the management meeting Miss Murray announced that she wanted to defer the set agenda and introduce a new subject for discussion. Mr Soames and Mr McElvey exchanged glances. What now, they thought?

  “As you might know,” Miss Murray started, “Mrs Pegram and I carried out a detailed inspection of the building yesterday.”

  The men had been aware of this and it had given rise to feverish speculation as to its cause.

  “All was in order, gentlemen.”

  Sighs of relief were discernible.

  “However…” More alarm. “I did find an area that we have inexplicably overlooked for many years. I mean of course the attic level and roof area.”

  “Well, there’s been no need for it. I mean we already have adequate storage and it’s not as if staff accommodation is required these days,” put in Mr Philipson.

  “I do realise that,” she continued magisterially, “but it’s time we made use of it as a potential asset.”

  “Well, I don’t know how,” mumbled Mr McElvey to his neighbour. Unfortunately for him it was Mrs Pegram. “Wait and see,” she whispered back. Miss Murray glared at him. He quailed.

  “My idea is this,” and she passed round a sheaf of papers to each of the team. The first page was headed ‘Murrays Roof Garden and Tea Room’.

  As they read through the plan, heads began to nod and initial grudging agreement built up to downright enthusiasm as the plan crystallised before them.

  “Yes!” said Mr Soames. “We can easily reconfigure the attics to make a catering kitchen to supply a tea room.”

  “We’d need to rebuild the access stair though,” said Mr Philipson doubtfully, “but it could be done.” Then he was struck by a thought. “What about the roof itself? Is it structurally sound enough to take the weight?”

  “I’ve been on to McPherson’s, the structural engineers, and asked them to do a detailed survey,” Miss Murray said smoothly. “They said they’d get on to it straight away.” She looked at her watch. “They may have started already.”

  Mr McElvey wondered out loud about the cost of the operation. “Would it be worth spending money on? I mean the weather up here is not reliable. We could spend a fortune and not recoup it.”

  Miss Murray was ready for that. “I plan to reconfigure the store layout slightly and think about the labelling of each floor. The aim would be to virtually force customers to have to walk through as many departments as possible in order to reach the roof garden.” She sat back ready for more comments.

  “I see your thinking,” said Mr Soames nodding, “but why should people actually want to go to so much effort? The view will be nice, of course, but after they’ve seen
it once they might be happy to just go to the other tea rooms.”

  “Turn to the back page,” said Miss Murray. They did as they were bid and leafed through the sheaves of paper that she had distributed. One by one, eyebrows were raised and questioning faces turned to her.

  “A menagerie,” expostulated Mr McElvey. “Animals on the roof! Are you mad, woman?”

  Miss Murray favoured him with her pleasantest smile. “Not in the least,” she said mildly. “Think what an attraction it would be. People would come from far and wide to visit Murrays’ rooftop Tea Room and Menagerie. I can just see the advertising now.”

  “Yes,” said Mr McElvey sourly under his breath “See the monkeys at Murrays!”

  Mr Soames was interested. “What exactly do you plan? Lions and tigers?”

  “Hope not,” whispered the now defeated Mr McElvey.

  “No, of course not,” came the crisp response. “I was thinking more of smaller animals, ones attractive to children, maybe slightly unusual, not typical pets. I do think that small monkeys would be interesting though.” She nodded towards Mr McElvey.

  “So what do people think? Should we try it? We can afford to do the necessary work if the structural survey shows the roof is sound enough to support it. It could be worth its weight in advertising and sales…” She left the rest of her thoughts unspoken in an attempt to ascertain the views of her colleagues.

  “Well I think we should certainly explore the possibilities,” said Mr Soames stoutly.

  “Thank you,” said Miss Murray. “Now Mr McElvey, Mr Philipson, what do you think?”

  “Nothing ventured,” said Mr Philipson.

  “I agree,” came the unexpected response from Mr McElvey who secretly hoped to see Miss Murray fall flat on her face, her big idea an embarrassing failure.

  “Right then,” said Mrs Pegram taking some sort of charge. “What next? What do we need to do?”

  “Wait for the engineer’s report, speak to someone about animals, find a designer and builder, think about advertising…” Miss Murray read aloud the action steps already outlined in her document. She appeared to have thought of everything.

  Tasks were allocated and feedback requested by the following morning. “We need to get on with this, gentlemen, before the good weather starts. We need to maximise the sales potential offered by the summer visitors.” Her words echoed in their ears as each departed to start on their allocated tasks (in addition to their other work, Mr McElvey grumbled).

  In any large institution such as Murrays, news travels fast, and rumours even faster. The information that animals were to be introduced led to wild speculation among the staff. In the canteen discussion could be overheard regarding the best way to get the giraffe up to the roof and the pros and cons of fitting the elephant into the lift hotly disputed. Jock was firmly against it. A plaque in the lift plainly stated that no more than eight people should be in it at any one time. The possibility of its being a baby elephant weighing less than eight people was reviewed but dismissed as there would be no room for an operator and a baby elephant couldn’t necessarily be counted on to operate it efficiently. A trail of staff made their way to Mrs Pegram’s office pointing out that they were asthmatic or likely to be allergic to large fluffy or woolly animals. She did her best to reassure them and told them that Miss Murray would be making an announcement shortly.

  Finally, the roof structure was pronounced sound and sufficient to take the weight of a small glass tea room and some enclosures for animals. A designer and builder had looked at the dormitory areas and drawn up and costed a conversion plan. More excitingly, Miss Murray herself had held a meeting with the local Zoological Society and an agreement reached for them to provide eight squirrel monkeys, ten chipmunks, two breeding chinchillas, a guaranteed talking mynah bird and twenty quails. This would be in exchange for Murrays allowing the zoo a display and sales unit in the store and an advertising tie up with the local newspapers and bus company. The zoo staff would provide training for a Murrays staff member and information on animal care, feeding and such information as was vital for the well-being of the animals and birds.

  Work started. Barry Hughes in security and Mr Williams from Advertising and Display were summoned for a meeting to discuss the implications for their respective departments. Mr Williams, unsurprisingly, was very enthusiastic about the advertising possibilities offered by the new project. “How exciting,” he had enthused to Barry on the way up to Miss Murray’s office. Barry was less sure. The presence of the animals opened up new avenues of worry for a security-conscious person. What if they escaped, for example? What if a child was hurt? What to do about the animals in the event of fire? His mind reeled.

  Mrs Pegram and Miss Murray tried to put Barry’s mind at ease telling him that every enclosure would be constructed exactly to the zoo’s specification. There should be no particular security implications in that regard. There could, however, be increased numbers of customers going through all the departments on their way up to the roof garden. It was possible that some might not be exactly typical Murrays customers. He nodded knowingly. Now he was in an area he knew all about. He left the office as the conversation had moved on to Mr William’s special area.

  Eventually, the great day came. It had been heralded in all the local newspapers and the buses displayed Mr McElvey’s cynical slogan ‘Come and see the monkeys at Murrays’. Mr Williams had thoroughly prepared the store and animal-themed signage indicated a convoluted way through as many departments as possible on the way up to the roof garden. Each department had tried to display items as appropriate and to look as attractive as possible to customers in an attempt to draw them in (and their money, business after all being business).

  Upstairs, the little glass Tea Room was open, staffed by two of the most experienced waitresses and the new kitchen stood ready for action; a newly appointed cook and assistant standing by the urn. Outside, arranged around a short path was a large domed cage enclosing the squirrel monkeys: it contained a wealth of places to climb up to, ropes to swing on and a quiet place to hide. It was well-sheltered from the wind. In another smaller wooden building the chipmunks could be viewed scurrying around and playing entertainingly. The chinchillas slept soundly snuggled together in an old barrel in the adjoining enclosure. Standing to one side and as sheltered as the other spaces, was a cage containing a solitary mynah bird on a perch. It wasn’t entirely on its own as, on the bottom of the cage a myriad of little quails scratched about hopefully. The remaining roof space was taken up by urns of plants, small conifers and some hardy ferns. A light breeze was blowing and there was the promise of sunshine.

  Miss Murray, addressing the assembled press and invited dignitaries, turned and cut the red ribbon across the entrance to the fabulous new facility. Almost before she had turned and passed through the newly enlarged door the crowd surged in. Flustered she turned to Mrs Pegram, “Well that’s that!” and moved on to graciously mingle with the guests.

  One person stood quietly to the side: Hector the young man charged with the animals’ care and maintenance. He was a veterinary student currently on placement at the zoo. He hadn’t expected this new responsibility to be thrust upon him but the zoo manager had been glad to rid himself of responsibility for this extremely serious and studious young man. Hector was not happy about the exploitation, as he saw it, of these innocent creatures for the greater glory and profit of a shop. He snorted at the thought. What would the other students think of this as work experience? He thought of his friend, Giles, currently in Kenya working at a wildlife sanctuary, and Rose on placement at a veterinary charity in a deprived area of East London. Where was he? Looking after pets in a shop!

  Henry, the mynah bird, was accustomed to being overlooked. He was not brightly coloured or cuddly but he certainly could do one thing: he did it now: he sidled up to Hector whistling ‘Scotland the Brave’ and followed up with a crystal clear ‘Good morning, doc’! Hector was used to this but it still raised an involuntary smile ever
y time. Henry was a real character.

  Hector looked at the excited throng, ranged mostly around the monkeys. The charming little creatures were putting on a good show chasing one another around the large domed cage and gave every impression of being completely unaware of their audience. Only Hector knew that this behaviour was indicative of raised stressed levels among the tiny primates. He narrowed his eyes and tried to suppress the rage building within him. Suddenly he was aware of being called forward by Miss Murray.

  “Hector, Hector, could you come over here I’d like to introduce you to the Lord Provost.”

  Your wish is my command, thought Hector. He gritted his teeth and stepped forward with a cold smile ready to deal with the questions about the welfare of his little charges.

  From the management’s point of view, the opening day had gone well. Apart from the invited guests, many local people and their unfortunately overexcited children had turned up. However, Mr McElvey was happy to highlight that, far from boosting sales, they were markedly down that day. Clearly people had not lingered in the various tempting departments in their headlong rush to get to the Roof Garden and its thrilling residents.

  “Not to worry,” said Miss Murray reassuringly. “That’s bound to happen on the first day.”

  Mrs Pegram nodded supportively. The meeting moved on to other subjects.

  Life on the rooftop continued to be busy. There were only a few tables in the glass café itself but one of the old dormitories had been turned into a cosy location for tea and scones. It soon became a popular spot for people to meet and was ideal on those days when the roof itself was cold or wet.

  Hector, however, remained on patrol come rain or shine. He was ever ready to reprove children trying to tease the animals or elderly ladies furtively trying to pass smuggled in bananas or scones to the monkeys. The chinchillas had still not been seen to stir at all. Hector told people it was because they were nocturnal. However, old Stan, the night security man, on one of his fearful inspection visits was unable to resist shining his torch into their barrel to check for movement or indeed any sign of life at all – and found none. The next day Hector sadly retrieved their lifeless little bodies. They had plainly been too cold up there or too stressed and unhappy to survive. They had been in perfectly good health when they had arrived he fumed to himself.