Rainy Days for the Harpers Girls

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘I don’t belong to the militant branch of the movement,’ Maggie assured him, wondering what had changed his mind. He was normally so strict about where his daughter could and could not go. ‘Sometimes we are heckled at our peaceful meetings, but we do nothing to arouse hostility…’

  He nodded, looking serious. ‘Good, then I shall give it some thought and let Becky know my decision.’

  Mrs Burrows came over to her counter after he left, looking anxious. ‘Are you in trouble, Miss Gibbs?’

  ‘Oh no, Mrs Burrows,’ Maggie said and smiled. ‘Mr Stockbridge was giving me a message from Becky.’

  ‘Oh, I see…’ Mrs Burrows looked very surprised. She obviously wanted to know more, but several customers entered the department all together and she was forced to return to her counter.

  Maggie served six customers on the trot and sold scarves to all of them. She was busy writing the sales up and crossing off the stock list when Mrs Harper came in. It was the end of June now and she’d recovered quickly from the birth of her daughter but only came into the store occasionally, when she had something special to do, because she needed to be at home to nurse her baby. She’d told Maggie that Ben didn’t want her to come in for weeks yet, but she’d compromised by popping in for short visits. Mr Marco was with her on this occasion and gallantly carrying a pile of boxes, which he placed on Maggie’s counter.

  ‘These have just arrived,’ Mrs Harper said. ‘I’m trying a new supplier and I wanted to show you them myself – I want you to take particular note of customers’ remarks and how many of these you sell. Your information helps me to know whether I’m buying the right stock…’

  ‘Yes, of course, Mrs Harper,’ Maggie said and smiled.

  ‘Oh, Mrs Harper…’ Janice Browning sidled up to them, leaving Marion to cope with a difficult customer alone. ‘I wanted to ask if you would be buying any more of those straw boaters… We’ve sold six of them.’ She shot a malicious glance at Marion. ‘Including the one Marion damaged and Miss Minnie repaired…’

  In fact, Marion had sold four out of the six, but Janice allowed Mrs Harper to think that she had sold them. Maggie frowned. She’d once considered asking Janice to share a room with her, but she’d changed her mind. If she had to go into a boarding house, it would be better than sharing with a girl she now very much disliked. Janice had deliberately drawn Mrs Harper’s attention to the fact that a hat had had to be repaired by Miss Minnie, but instead of asking questions Mrs Harper ignored her and Maggie felt pleased. Janice had been trying to make trouble, she was sure of it. Maggie liked Marion and if Janice was trying to get her sacked, perhaps she ought to warn her, just a few words to be extra careful when checking her stock…

  22

  ‘Trouble brewing after Habsburg heir assassinated in Balkans!’ The newsboys were shouting all over London. ‘Tension is mounting between Serbia and the Prussians since the terrible murders earlier this month. Buy me paper, sir, read all about it!’

  Ben stopped to purchase the Standard on his way home that July evening. He sat in the back of the taxicab moments later and read the lurid account of the double murder and the mounting tension it was causing in Europe.

  ‘Terrible goings-on, ain’t it, sir?’ the friendly cabby remarked.

  ‘Yes, perhaps worse than we yet realise,’ Ben replied.

  The Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his morganatic wife, the Duchess, had been shot while on a visit to Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia. As the heir apparent to the Austria-Hungarian Empire, this was dire news and had set the Balkans alight with anger and outrage. The incident had occurred the previous Sunday, when someone had thrown a bomb at them and the Archduke had thrown it back into the road, accidentally injuring someone in the following car. Then, as the royal car was forced to go slowly through the crowds, the assassin had darted out and shot the Archduke in the neck; his wife flung herself across him to try to save him from further injury and received a fatal wound to her stomach. She died quickly, her husband following a short time later. The papers had been full of it for days.

  After the brief retelling of the tragedy came speculation by the journalist as to whether the murders had been a Serbian plot. The culprit had told the police he wanted revenge for the oppression of the people of Serbia and was rumoured to be part of a secret group of army officers calling themselves the Black Hand. The newspaper reporter had written that, if this proved to be the case, Austria would take strong action against the murderers. More details concerning the atrocity were coming out day by day.

  Ben frowned as he read that no soldiers had lined the route and there had been no change after the first attempt. Surely someone should have taken more care of royal visitors, rushed more protection to the royal party? The assassination had all the hallmarks of a conspiracy in his opinion.

  He tucked the paper into his leather case, where a sheaf of new catalogues from various firms had been placed. Sally had not yet returned to work, even though she was becoming restless and sometimes popped into the store just for an hour to see people and talk shop. However, there was no prospect of her returning to work for a while yet.

  Jenny wasn’t feeding as well as she ought and so although they’d discussed taking on a nanny, Sally had decided to take at least another month or two off to ease her baby through the first few weeks of her life, and then she would only do a few hours in the mornings until the baby was weaned. They were both devoted to the little person who had taken over their lives and Ben had paced the floor several nights in a row with a crying baby in his arms to give Sally a rest, but the previous night, Jenny had settled and woken only for her feeds, which meant they could both get some rest.

  He frowned as he paid his driver and went into the apartment building. Sally liked to read the papers, but he was reluctant to show her the latest headlines, which were prophesising war soon. Ben wasn’t a warmonger by any means and he hoped nothing terrible would come from this latest outrage, but for how long would Austria put up with these kinds of attacks and insults? It was likely that, before long, this nasty business could escalate into a full-blown war.

  ‘She smiled at me today,’ Sally said when Ben laid down his case and took off his jacket.

  He walked towards her and accepted the sweet-smelling bundle from Sally’s arms. As yet they hadn’t needed a nursemaid, because Mrs Hills was so good. She was only employed to cook and clean, but Sally had soon discovered she was a fount of knowledge where babies were concerned and small worries were soon smoothed over by Mrs Hill’s experience of four children.

  ‘It was wind,’ Ben said, looking at his daughter. ‘You know the hospital midwife told you they don’t really smile for ages yet.’

  ‘I don’t care what that pompous nurse said,’ Sally retorted with a laugh. ‘I swear she smiled – and Mrs Hills thought so too.’

  ‘Oh well, if Mrs Hills thought so…’ Ben grinned, willing to accept whatever Sally said. ‘I brought you those catalogues you wanted – and I’ve got half a dozen parcels for you in my case…’ He could have bit his tongue off as Sally went immediately to the case and opened it. She took out the parcels and catalogues and then the newspaper.

  ‘That is awful,’ Sally said, glancing at the headlines. ‘I was talking to Mrs Hills about it earlier – Sidney told her what they were saying about the likelihood of war when she came in. I don’t know where he gets his information from, but he always seems to know the news before the papers.’ Sidney was their porter and often related bits of news they hadn’t yet heard when he brought up post, flowers or early morning newspapers. ‘I think he has a pigeon post from Downing Street.’

  Ben smiled ruefully. Had he really thought he should keep it from Sally? He might have known she would be aware of the news as soon as he was.

  ‘Do you think there will be a war now?’ Sally asked. ‘Fred Burrows has been saying it will come for ages – this couldn’t be it, could it?’

  ‘Well, it might,’ Ben admitted and took his sleeping child to her cot
, tenderly kissing her brow before laying her down. ‘I don’t think we need to worry, though, Sally. I know Britain might get drawn in, but it won’t be a big war. I’m sure it will all blow over in a few weeks. It is so volatile out there – they are forever having a go at each other…’

  ‘Yes, but this is more serious, isn’t it?’ Sally persisted. ‘If Russia and Austria and others go to war… well, we’ve signed treaties that say we have to help.’

  ‘Yes, sure, I know,’ Ben agreed and tried to turn the subject because he didn’t want his wife upset. ‘Dinner smells good – what is it?’

  ‘Beef bourguignon with new peas, carrots and potatoes,’ she said. ‘Mrs Hills said we might as well make the most of good food while we can…’

  ‘Oh, it will never get that bad,’ Ben said cheerfully, ‘but she can make me special meals as much as she likes. I’m starving.’

  ‘Me too,’ Sally said. ‘I shall have to be careful. She spoils me so much that unless I get back to work more often and watch my diet, I shall never get my figure back…’

  ‘Nothing wrong with your figure – more for me to cuddle up to.’ He smiled and kissed her. ‘And you don’t need to be back at work for a while, love – you can do a little buying from home if you need to, but if you tell me what you want, I’ll see to things for you…’

  ‘And nothing fits me,’ Sally grumbled, ignoring his offer. He knew she was torn between wanting to care for her baby herself and getting back to her desk, but she was just going to have to be patient for a while. ‘I’m going to get a bicycle and ride into work, Ben. I don’t mind being a size thirty-six, but I know I’m not going to settle for a thirty-eight.’

  ‘Women and clothes,’ he said and grinned at her. ‘Look at those catalogues and buy yourself a new wardrobe.’

  ‘I might buy something floaty to get me through the summer,’ Sally agreed, ‘but I want to be back to my normal size by Christmas.’ She smiled at him. ‘By the way, there’s a letter from Jenni on the table. She says she’s happy and hopes she will get to see us soon and she has sent some things for the baby…’ She hesitated, then, ‘Perhaps we could have the christening when she’s here. She said she would like to be a godmother…’

  ‘That’s just like Jenni. And maybe we should ask Mick to be Jenny’s godfather?’ Ben said and smiled, putting an arm about Sally’s waist.

  ‘He’d like that – yes, why not?’ Sally agreed. ‘I’ll have to diet I suppose but that might not be good for Jenny…’

  ‘Why bother? You’re not fat, just cuddly…’

  ‘But I prefer me slimmer. I had an eighteen-inch waist,’ Sally said and pouted, but then a cry from the bedroom distracted her. ‘I’d better see to Jenny. Get the casserole out while I see if she is all right.’

  Ben smiled as she hurried away to see to the baby. He nodded to himself as he lifted the delicious casserole from the oven. If Sally was worrying over getting her figure back, she wouldn’t be fretting about a war and with any luck the politicians would be able to sort things out and everything would settle down again. He hadn’t said anything to Sally, but with some of their stock coming from America and much of the raw materials English manufacturers used in their products also sourced abroad, it could make things difficult for a while if war did break out. In the morning he would speak to Stockbridge about ordering in as much stock as they could hold, even if they kept it in the basement for months. He reflected that it was lucky Mick had given him the name of a good builder. If war was coming, the men would flock to join up and he didn’t want to be left in the lurch again.

  War would make a difference to all their lives, especially if it escalated the way it looked as if it might. He was an American and, as his wife, Sally was entitled to an American passport for her and the child – and yet Ben wasn’t the kind to cut and run. Even if things got difficult here, he wouldn’t desert the country that had become home to him. Only in the very worst circumstances would he consider sending his wife and child away to safety.

  ‘There – I told you it was coming,’ Fred said as he showed Beth the same article Ben and Sally were reading, had he known it. ‘It was planned – that wasn’t a random madman havin’ a go, it’s part of a Serbian plot and war is inevitable, it has to happen now!’

  ‘Fred, please don’t,’ Beth said. ‘I know it looks bad but…’ She looked up as her husband walked in the kitchen door, her face lighting with pleasure. ‘Jack – you’re home early!’ He was so busy at the hotel that he seldom got home before nine or ten in the evening.

  ‘Yes, I decided to make an effort and I’ve left my assistant in charge of seeing the new guests in this evening. I thought we’d go out somewhere – if you haven’t eaten?’

  ‘I was going to cook lamb chops,’ Beth said. ‘They will keep for tomorrow – but what about you, Fred?’

  ‘I’ll have a pie down the pub,’ Fred said. ‘You two go out and enjoy yourselves while you can…’

  Jack frowned at him. ‘You could come with us, Dad – make it a celebration…’

  ‘No, you take Beth and have a good night,’ Fred told them. ‘I’ll meet my friends and have a good natter. You young ones should enjoy yourselves. You don’t get much time to yourselves.’

  ‘We’ll go somewhere nice,’ Jack said. ‘Somewhere they have a band and we can dance between courses.’

  Beth jumped up with excitement and hurried upstairs to have a wash and put on a pretty blue dress with a skirt that flirted in a frill just above her ankles. She sprayed some of the perfume he’d given her for her last birthday behind her ears and on her wrists. Jack had changed his shirt and suit at the hotel; he kept some of his clothes there to save coming home and she thought how smart he looked. When the taxi arrived and he gave the driver the name of a prestigious hotel, she looked at him in surprise.

  ‘The Ritz is expensive, Jack – are you sure you want to spend so much money?’

  ‘Why not? We don’t do it often enough, Beth. I’ve been trying to build the business up, make a good future for us – but now I wonder if I’ve been a fool…’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Beth asked, but he shook his head.

  ‘It doesn’t matter – let’s enjoy this evening.’

  ‘It’s because of what happened, isn’t it?’ Beth asked, feeling a cold shiver at her nape. ‘You think there will be a war, like Fred says…’

  ‘Yes.’ Jack looked at her in the dimness of the back seat of the taxi. ‘I’m merchant navy, Beth, at least I was. If there is a war, I’ll have to go back…’

  ‘You were on cruise ships not merchant vessels,’ Beth protested as the chill crept down her spine, but she’d known this in her heart already.

  ‘They will need men with experience of the sea. I know ships and the men who sail them need men like me to feed them and keep things running. I’ll have to go if I’m needed, Beth – and I’ll be in it from the start because they won’t have enough trained men…’

  ‘Perhaps if you’re on a merchant vessel it won’t be so bad,’ Beth whispered, but she could see by Jack’s face that he didn’t agree and she knew why he’d come home early to take her out. If war came, her husband would be at sea, perhaps for months on end, and sometimes ships sank, especially when at war…

  Beth’s throat tightened and for a moment the tears threatened, but she choked them back. Jack’s first thought had been for her, which showed how much he loved her and she would be a fool to spoil their evening. Never in her life would she ever have expected to be taken to a place like the Ritz. Life had improved so much for her since her marriage and the inheritance that had enabled Jack to buy his hotel. She wasn’t going to ruin her special treat, so she would worry about the war when it came.

  23

  Sally searched the papers for news every morning as soon as it was delivered. The papers were still rumbling on about the Irish Home Rule Bill and the way the King had appeared to side with the Ulster Unionists, making what she considered extremely rude remarks about His Majesty. Altho
ugh, of course, kings normally remained impartial when it came to politics, so perhaps, he’d drawn the sarcasm on himself? At Wimbledon, Dorothea Chambers had beaten Ethel Larcombe for the ladies’ singles title in the tennis championships and Kaiser Wilhelm II had reaffirmed his country’s support of Austria. She saw an article about the Royal Naval Air Service being established and realised it was all a part of the build-up to war.

  It was time she thought about returning to work for at least a few hours each day and not just popping in when she felt like it, Sally decided, as the month of July moved inexorably on. Jenny was now nearly seven weeks old and blooming, and the lazy days of being spoiled by Ben and Mrs Hills had been all too few. With a war looming, her buying expertise would be needed more than ever. She knew that young men were already talking about joining the armed forces if, as seemed increasingly likely, war happened, and, although she might have wished to spend longer at home learning to know her baby and just enjoying being a mother, Sally didn’t need Ben to tell her that buying in stock was even more important now.

  Besides, he had his hands full with the new extension, which had proved more problematic than he’d imagined, even though Mick had recommended a good builder. So, Sally must make an effort to spend at least an hour or two each day at the store, choosing the hours when her darling daughter was sleeping. Much of the ordering could be managed from home on the telephone, of course, but she needed to talk to some suppliers and that could only be done at Harpers or their workshops. Should Britain be forced to join a war, it would become more difficult to source all they needed from overseas, therefore she ought to order in as much as she could now.

  Jenni’s cable didn’t surprise her in the least when it arrived.

  Sending large consignment of goods by next shipment. Hope to visit soon. Long to see my namesake! Love, concerned Jenni.