by Rosie Clarke
Sally cabled her back immediately:
Adore to see you. Need glass, china, textiles and cosmetics. Love as always, busy mum Sally xxx
Jenni was busy buying as much as she could, but Sally wondered if they had sufficient funds to cover it all. She would have to ask Ben, because one of them might have to speak to the bank manager about a small loan to tide them over – and yet he already had so much on his mind that she hated to bother him. It made it all the more important that she did her job, either here at home, where she would prefer to be with her little darling, or, when necessary, in the office.
Ben had already spoken vaguely of employing a nanny. He’d asked her what she thought of the idea. Sally came from working-class stock and nursery maids were something only the rich did in her estimation, but although Mrs Hills would be happy to care for Jenny when Sally was forced to leave her, Ben felt a part-time nanny would be a huge help to them. Sally had wrestled with the idea, torn between wanting to care for her child herself and the need to look after their business. Harpers was doing well now, but she knew it would only take a few mistakes in the buying for them to slip into the red in their accounts and she couldn’t let Ben down, even though he kept telling her she should stay home and rest. She was perfectly well now – and country women gave birth to their children and were back in the fields working within days – only the aristocracy considered it necessary to rest for months after a birth. Most working women had to be up and caring for their family within a couple of days despite being told to rest for three weeks. They simply could not afford to do it. Sally was lucky enough to be able to employ people to help her.
Her mind made up, Sally rang the employment office that morning and asked for a sensible, capable nurse with plenty of experience. The agency sent her ten applicants to interview and after talking with six starchy, prim-faced women who frightened the life out of her and had Mrs Hills shaking her head in the background, she gave the job to Pearl Baxley.
‘You’re twenty-three and you had a year training as a children’s nurse,’ Sally read from her references. ‘What happened – why didn’t you continue your career?’
‘My mother was very ill and I had to go home and take care of her and my sisters and brothers – Mum has five children under twelve.’ It was a large family but many working women had ten or twelve children and struggled to support them. Their husbands refused to consider birth control and woe betide any wife who tried to practise it herself, for she would probably be accused of being wanton and having a secret lover.
‘Good grief! How does she manage?’ Sally asked, because one tiny baby was all she could contemplate caring for at the moment. ‘Can she spare you?’
Pearl laughed. ‘She is much better now, Mrs Harper. The last birth pulled her right down and she had three months in bed, but now she’s well again – and my eldest sister Sapphire is nearly twelve. She helps Mum when she gets home from school – and my brother Ron helps with chores. Dad works on the construction sites all over the country, so he’s not home much…’
Sally hid her smile, because Pearl’s father obviously made the most of his home time with so many children. ‘Don’t you want to return to nursing now that your mother is better?’
‘The agency told me about you, Mrs Harper, and the wage is twice what I would earn while I train – and Mum can do with the money…’
‘Well, you seem a sensible girl and you must know how to take care of a young baby.’ Mrs Hills was beaming and nodding her head. ‘I think I should like you to start immediately if you can…’
‘I’ll start now,’ Pearl said and smiled at her. ‘Dad will be home soon and he’ll get paid this trip – he was out of work for a while after he broke his shoulder in a fall. One day I might finish my training, but I’d love to work for you…’ Pearl’s smile lit up her face. ‘I came into Harpers when it was first opened and you showed me a lovely silver bracelet. I couldn’t quite afford it, but I saved up until I could and someone else sold it to me… she said you’d been promoted…’
‘Yes, I was,’ Sally nodded. ‘I thought I’d seen you before. Well, Pearl, I’m so glad you answered my call. Some of the nurses the agency sent scared me to death. I want someone who will love looking after my little Jenny, not treat her as if she is something to be hidden away.’
‘Oh, I shall,’ Pearl told her. ‘Palladium – that’s my brother – we call him Pal…’ Pearl’s eyes twinkled. ‘Mum called us all after precious stones or rare metals. My second eldest brother is called Silver – Mum says because his hair is like silver…’
‘Poor lad,’ Sally sympathised. ‘What do you call him?’
‘He begged us to call him Fred, but my sister Ruby calls him Ver and he answers to it.’ Pearl laughed. ‘Your little girl is lucky – Jenny is a lovely name.’
‘Yes, it’s after my sister-in-law, but she spells her name with an i at the end.’ Sally smiled as she placed Jenny in Pearl’s arms and saw the way the girl’s face creased in a smile. ‘Would you like to wear a uniform?’
‘Yes, please,’ Pearl said. ‘People know who you are then – I have some tunics at home until you decide what you want.’
‘I’ve picked it out and it will be here tomorrow,’ Sally said. ‘I’ll give you two for a start, but you can ask if you need more.’ She remembered it being a struggle to buy uniforms when she’d started at Harpers.
‘Ah, I think Jenny needs changing…’ Pearl said. ‘Can you show me where her bedroom is please?’
‘I’ll do that, Pearl; you can get used to things before you start,’ Mrs Hills said and glanced at Sally. ‘Shall I tell the other applicants that you’ve chosen your nurse, Mrs Harper?’
‘I’ll do that on my way down,’ Sally said, picking up her bag and a light jacket. She set her hat on her head and went out, leaving Mrs Hills and Pearl to become acquainted. A little pang of loss struck her as she closed the door at leaving her baby so soon, but she shut it away. She would only be gone a few hours and then she would be back with her little darling. The walk into Oxford Street would do her good, help her shed the few pounds she needed to so that she could get into her clothes, and it was time she got back to her job, even if it was only part-time for a while.
Everyone looked surprised as Sally walked into the store alone and up the stairs; she’d been popping in with Ben for a flying visit and given advice about various orders before, but now they recognised she was back to work properly. Most of the staff smiled and nodded, those close enough congratulated her and a few were brave enough to ask if she was feeling better and if the baby was well.
Mr Marco followed her into the lift and smiled at her. ‘Your husband owes me a pound,’ he said and winked at her. ‘I bet him you would be back at work before the end of the week and he said it would be at least two weeks yet…’
‘I’ve just engaged a nurse to look after her for a few hours a day and Mrs Hills is with her so I know she is quite safe. Ben hasn’t met Pearl yet,’ Sally said and smiled in response to his remark. ‘I’ll be in for just an hour or two a day for a start, preferably when Jenny’s been fed and is down for a nice long sleep.’
‘Of course, the baby comes first,’ Mr Marco said. ‘I’m glad you’re in, I wanted to ask you about my new ideas. I’m sure you knew the Pygmalion window had crowds ten deep and the police had to move them on; the lapis lazuli window had huge crowds for a week – the idea of a magical grotto all done in shades of green and blue with silver gave us the illusion of an undersea grotto just as we’d hoped. Everyone wanted to know about the legend of the Greek hero who went in search of a magical stone to heal his lover and dived deep beneath the sea to find it for her.’
‘Did the leaflets all go?’ Sally asked, smiling because they’d come up with the myth between them and she’d written a little fairy tale and he’d decorated the page with images.
‘Yes, every last one,’ he said. ‘I think Ben told your secretary to reorder everything because there was a run on the lapis lazuli jewel
lery…’
‘Just as we’d hoped,’ Sally said. She hesitated as the lift stopped at the top floor. ‘Do you have anything special to discuss?’
‘I’m thinking about something; I thought we might have a fairground in miniature, because they always cheer people up,’ he said and then frowned. ‘I think we should do as many summery and happy windows as we can before it all goes dark…’
‘You mean this business in Sarajevo?’ Sally sighed. ‘It’s why I came back sooner than I’d hoped. Ben will have enough worries without trying to do my job as well as his own. He has all the new building to sort out and it seems there is always a new problem. Everything is simple when you look at the plans, but there’s always a hitch.’
Mr Marco nodded sympathetically. ‘I know – and the need to keep it all under wraps and not hinder the customers is paramount.’
‘Well, I have several phone calls to make,’ Sally said decisively. ‘I know what I want from the brochures, but they always have some bargains for the personal shopper, so I’m going to visit as many as I can before everyone starts warmongering and people get into a panic and buy more than they need and it all goes mad.’ Sally knew that they would need to stock the basement with surplus stock, because when people panicked, shelves could be emptied in hours and it might become difficult to replace all they needed. They might even have to regulate what customers were allowed to buy – and she would need to consult Ben about that, but Marco was talking and she brought her wandering thoughts back to the present.
‘And I shall make a tour of the departments and see what I can steal away for my strawberries and cream window.’ He smiled at her. ‘Wimbledon may be over for the year, but the rest of us still want strawberries and cream and cucumber sandwiches, don’t we?’
‘Long lazy days on the beach or by the river,’ Sally said, nodding her agreement. ‘Give us something quintessentially English, Mr Marco, something to make us proud – something worth fighting to preserve…’
‘I knew you would understand,’ he said, giving her a look of warm affection. ‘Others may already be full of jingoistic nonsense and it’s only a matter of time before we shall have to show our support for the troops – but until then let us celebrate all that is good and beautiful in our country.’
Sally smiled as he walked away. Mr Marco might have once been Italian or partially French, but he was completely British now and she shared his desire to give their customers a happy summer before the darkness of war descended on them all.
‘Did you hear that Sally is back at work today?’ Maggie asked Beth when she returned from her lunch break. ‘I spoke to Mr Marco on my way back up here and he said they’d had a fruitful discussion about the windows. I told him how much we all loved the sea grotto and he said it was mostly Sally’s idea.’
‘It certainly pleased the customers. I saw women and children staring at it for ages and the little ones loved the mermaid and all the beautiful seashells.’ She shook her head. ‘It must take Mr Marco ages to source everything he needs for a window like that, he’s so clever.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Beth agreed. ‘Back to your counter, Miss Gibbs – we have customers.’
There was a stream of customers shopping. At least three told Maggie that they’d come in for the scarf they wanted now, because if war came, they might not get it in a few months. Beth had similar remarks and Marion said that the customers she’d served with hats had said the same.
Janice Browning had reported in sick that morning. Beth had told her that she was being transferred to the ground-floor department the following week and would be serving on the glassware counter. She’d pulled a sulky face but said nothing more. However, the next morning she’d called in sick, saying she had a sore throat, and although she’d come in the next day, she was off again today. Beth suspected that she was taking days off to apply for jobs elsewhere, but it was no longer a concern to her. Marion had taken over her job and, although she hadn’t been told, Beth had recommended her to move up to salesgirl and asked for a new junior to take her place.
‘I feel juniors I can train are so much more respectful and they learn quickly. Janice had experience elsewhere and resented my telling her that I wanted things done a certain way – so if it could be arranged…’
‘I shall speak to Mr Stockbridge,’ Rachel promised. ‘I’m fairly certain he will agree, but it isn’t for me to say.’
Beth didn’t press her, because she was right. Mr Stockbridge would make the decision. She hoped Marion would be promoted permanently, because it would mean a rise in wages for her and she knew how much extra money was needed in that home. Besides, the girl was helpful, obliging and honest and that should go a long way. However, she hadn’t mentioned it, because it wouldn’t do to raise Marion’s hopes and then nothing came of it. So, she would wait until Rachel had spoken to the manager and see what happened.
24
Marion sensed something the moment she opened the door and walked in and then she smelled the pipe smoke and knew that her father was home on one of his flying visits. She felt a shiver of anxiety, because Ma was always worse when he paid one of his infrequent visits.
‘Home then at last, girl,’ her father boomed at her as he came down the stairs. ‘Maybe I’ll get something to eat before I starve. That lazy slut upstairs refused to get up and make me some food.’
‘Ma hasn’t been well,’ Marion said defensively. ‘I bought some sausages, Pa – and I’ll put some mash and cabbage and onions on for you in a minute.’ Her heart sank, because it meant most of what she’d bought for their supper would go on her father’s plate.
He looked at her hard and then nodded. ‘I’ve heard how hard you’ve worked to keep this family goin’, Marion. This is fer you, lass – spend it wisely because there’s no tellin’ when I’ll have more fer yer.’ He plonked a handful of notes and coins on the table. She stared at it, half afraid to reach for it in case he slapped her hand away. ‘There’s ten pounds there, girl,’ he muttered. ‘That lazy cow upstairs doesn’t deserve a penny of it, but it’s up ter you what yer do with it. I’ll be away fer months and there’s no guarantee that I’ll be back…’
‘What do you mean – are you leavin’ us?’ She was torn between relief and fear that they wouldn’t manage, though his contributions were seldom more than a couple of pounds when he was home.
‘Don’t be daft, Marion,’ her father grunted. ‘Yer know I’m on the ships – and yer must know a war is comin’?’ Marion nodded slowly. It was all people talked about on the buses now. ‘Well, I’m one of the poor buggers as will be bringin’ food back fer the rest of yer – and I’ll likely go down with me ship one of these days. So, you and Robbie will have to take care of the family.’ He frowned a her. ‘Well, don’t stand there like an idiot – get me bloody tea on, girl!’
‘Yes, Pa.’ Marion scooped the money up before he could change his mind and put it in her apron pocket. She would hide it away with the rest of her savings, because if anything happened to him, these handouts would be finished. They had never amounted to more than a few pounds, but put aside it was the rent for six weeks or so and that was a big help.
The door opened just as she was serving her father’s meal and Robbie entered, together with Dickon and Milly, who had been playing next door.
‘I bought some chips and a box of eggs…’ Robbie said and stopped as he saw his father tucking into a plate of four sausages, mash, fried onions and cabbage. ‘You’re home then, Pa.’
‘Yeah,’ his father nodded at him, his mouth filled with perfectly fried sausage. ‘Well, yer sister can cook – sit down and have yer chips and no doubt she’ll get yer a bit of something else.’
‘Milly, would you like an egg for your tea?’ Marion asked. Her little sister shook her head and beckoned. She bent down and the child whispered in her ear that she’d had bread and jam and cake next door. ‘I see – then just a glass of milk for you.’
‘Robbie, Dickon, I’ve got sausage and a bit of fried br
ead if you fancy it with your chips. We’ll save the eggs for breakfast – or you can have them hard-boiled with your docky bag…’
‘I’ll have the sausage and fried bread,’ Robbie said and Dickon nodded his assent.
Marion served them all and then went upstairs to her mother with a cup of tea and a piece of bread and butter and a big ripe tomato sliced thin and sprinkled with salt and a drop of vinegar.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Mrs Kaye whined. ‘Take it away.’
‘You have to eat something,’ Marion coaxed. ‘The tomato smells lovely, Ma, and I bought it especially for you.’
‘You eat it…’
‘No, it is for you – and the tea is hot and sweet as you like it. Pa is eating his tea; he won’t bother you.’
‘Give it here then,’ Mrs Kaye said and bit into a slice of fresh crusty bread. She smelled the tomato and then put a slice in her mouth, unable to stop it curving with pleasure. ‘That is lovely.’
‘Eat it all up. Pa will probably go down the pub with Mr Jackson later. You’ll be all right, Ma – he knows you’ve been ill.’
Her mother nodded, but the tears were not far away. ‘It’s never stopped him in the past.’
‘I know – but he’s not in a bad mood, perhaps he’ll leave you alone…’
Mrs Kaye nodded. She was quiet as she ate the meal Marion had lovingly prepared for her, then, ‘You’re a good girl, Marion. I just hope you make the right decision when you marry.’
Marion was thoughtful as she went back downstairs. She hadn’t even considered getting married, even though Reggie Jackson had made it clear he was courting her. Since the church social, where he’d danced with her three times, bought her two glasses of orange juice and a chicken sandwich, and given Milly a big bag of home-made fudge he’d bought from one of the stalls, he’d been round several times. He’d invited her to Sunday tea, taken her for a walk on a nice Saturday night. Marion had worn the new dress she’d made with his mother’s help and they’d stopped for a drink at the pub, sitting outside in the garden. He’d had a pint of pale ale and Marion had an orange juice; he’d offered a gin and orange or a port and lemon, but she’d stuck to her orange drink.
