The Shop Girls of Harpers

by Rosie Clarke

  A few of the men looked at each other and then one of them spoke out, ‘What sort of a man is he – this Mr Harper? Is he an American?’

  ‘Well, yes, he is,’ Mr Stockbridge said. ‘I’ve spoken to him on the telephone but I haven’t actually met Mr Harper as yet…’

  ‘Is he a recluse then?’

  ‘No, gentlemen, I am not…’ A hush fell as someone stepped out to join the manager out front and Beth heard Sally’s sharply indrawn breath beside her. ‘I’m sorry I was late, but there was a problem with something that I couldn’t leave to others – but thanks to one of your London cabbies, I finally made it.’

  Mr Stockbridge moved forward, offering his hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, sir – but I understood Mr Harper was an older man…’ He looked puzzled.

  ‘That Mr Harper is – or was – my uncle,’ the newcomer said. ‘It was Mr Gerald Harper who bought the store with the idea that I should run it. I am Ben Harper. Unfortunately, Mr Gerald had a heart attack two months ago and died just two weeks later and that is what caused my delay in getting to England. I’ve had to settle a lot of business in America before I could leave and so I had to leave it to you, Mr Stockbridge, and to Mr Marco – who is a good friend and knew what was happening, though he kept quiet about knowing me because I asked him to.’

  There was a buzz of surprise, because this was very direct and frank information.

  Mr Stockbridge looked stunned and then said, ‘Does that mean that the store – all we’ve done – might be at risk…’

  ‘No, I am one of the main beneficiaries of my uncle’s will,’ Ben Harper paused, looking round at them all. ‘I have decided we should go ahead with the opening as planned, and that’s what we’ll do. It does mean we are on our own without the back-up of our American branches, but I do not intend that it should hold us back. I have big plans for this store and, if all goes well, others…’

  ‘What happens to us if things don’t go as you hope?’ a man asked and there was a murmur of voices raised in assent. ‘I gave up a good position to come here…’

  ‘So did I…’ came from several voices.

  ‘I don’t give up easily,’ Ben Harper said and grinned, suddenly looking young, dynamic and very attractive. Every woman in the room smiled back. ‘My uncle promised me this store to run – and I expected to be a partner and to take it over one day. Now I own most of it and I intend to fight for its survival… and I want all of you to help me by selling as much as you can on opening day to give us a cash flow…’

  ‘You’ll do it, sir…’ Sally called out and several women said “yes” and clapped. They hadn’t liked to speak out at first because women were still expected to know their place, in the home and at work.

  Beth looked at her. ‘Be careful,’ she warned. ‘Miss Hart is watching you.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Sally said and smiled. ‘I’ve met him – and I’d back him all the way against a dozen Miss Harts…’

  9

  ‘What do you mean – you’ve met him?’ demanded Maggie excitedly.

  ‘Yes, I think you’d better explain,’ Mrs Craven said as they drew away from their nearest neighbours into a huddle. Some of the men were firing questions at Mr Harper and he was answering them all with good humour and without rancour. Miss Hart had asked whether his policy was to give more women important jobs and he had answered her in the affirmative.

  ‘I certainly do, whenever I find a woman who wishes for promotion and deserves it.’

  ‘He was looking at Selfridges’ windows and so was I,’ Sally said in a whisper and grinned. ‘We both thought one of the displays lacked something and we talked about it, that’s all…’

  Mrs Craven nodded. ‘Best that you keep it to yourself,’ she said and turned her head, listening. ‘All the supervisors have been asked to stop and speak to Mr Harper. I suggest you three return to the department. Miss Gibbs, you can cover the hats. I shall join you there shortly and we’ll speak more of this…’

  She made her way towards the front while the shop workers began to file out. There was a lot of complaining going on as men grumbled about having left perfectly good jobs to come here.

  ‘I reckon if this place shuts down, we’ll all be out of work…’ one of the men grumbled.

  ‘Shouldn’t worry about it if I were you,’ Sally said cheerfully. ‘You heard what Mr Harper said, he intends to make a success of it.’

  ‘He’s an American – why should he care what happens to us. He’s like all the other rich men… as soon as the store is making money he’ll sell and run back to America.’

  ‘If he’s rich, he’ll use his fortune to keep the store. It sounded as if he wanted to,’ Maggie said and then blushed as the man glared at her.

  ‘Good for you, Maggie!’ Sally whispered.

  ‘Come along, Miss Gibbs,’ Beth said. ‘You too, Miss Ross. It isn’t our business to discuss what our employer may or may not do – and we have our work to do…’

  When they got back to the department, it was to discover that two more boxes had been delivered. Sally looked at them and then nodded.

  ‘One is handbags and the other is hats. I think we should unpack them and get them written up before it’s time to go home.’

  I’ll write up for you, Miss Gibbs,’ Beth offered since she had nothing more to unpack. ‘I should check the box and write up what is inside but leave them in the box in the stockroom. There isn’t room to display any more – and it is always nice to keep a few things back to make a fresh display…’

  ‘I’ve got room for my bags,’ Sally said. She opened her box and took out six leather bags. ‘These are only two and three guineas each. I think we’ll sell more of these than those very expensive bags.’ She wrote down the details in her stock book and then took the empty box through to the back room.

  Beth had just finished helping Maggie to check the hats and list them when Mrs Craven arrived. She looked relaxed and more cheerful than she had after Mr Harper announced his reason for being late.

  ‘Have I missed something?’ she asked.

  ‘We had another six hats and Miss Ross had six leather bags – cheaper ones this time…’ Beth said.

  ‘We’ll leave the hats in the stockroom for now,’ Mrs Craven nodded her approval. ‘Well, I must say I approve of our new owner…’

  ‘Did he have any more to tell you?’ Sally asked eagerly.

  ‘Not really…’ Mrs Craven smiled at them. ‘He is a forceful young man and I am certain he will make a go of this place. He told me that he and his sister bought some of the stock but his uncle had already purchased half of it before he was asked to take over.’

  ‘The question is – did he buy the expensive stock or otherwise?’

  ‘I think his sister was responsible for buying the earlier stock.’ Mrs Craven looked at Sally. ‘It makes sense of the distinction between the two sets of merchandise. Apparently, his uncle had two successful stores in New York. Our Mr Harper expected to join the staff there, but then his uncle suddenly told him about his London venture and asked him to take over…’

  ‘Does his uncle have any children?’

  ‘There is a daughter as well as his wife and two other nephews, but no sons,’ Mrs Craven said, frowning. ‘Mr Gerald has a sister, who is a widow, and a brother who is not interested in the stores…’

  ‘Who told you all that?’ Sally laughed.

  ‘Mr Harper told us all. He was explaining that there was likely to be at least five or six beneficiaries in his uncle’s will, but he has most of the London store, though nothing more.’

  ‘It would be awful for him as well as us if it closed too soon…’

  ‘Well, Mr Harper intends to do all he can to keep us going,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘Now, if you all tidy up and put everything away, I think we can leave. I suggest we might all go to a café and share a pot of tea – talk about things for a while. We shall not often be able to leave early…’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ Sally said eagerly a
nd Beth nodded.

  Maggie hesitated and then agreed. ‘I can’t stop long,’ she said. ‘My mother needs help with my father – but I’ll come for ten minutes or so…’

  ‘It would be nice to have a little informal time together,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘I think we all need a little treat and I’ll pay. We’ve all worked hard to set the department up…’

  Beth decided not to mention Mr Harper’s revelations to her aunt. It would only give Aunt Helen something to grumble about if she thought there was any chance the store might not succeed without its American backing, and she’d been a little easier to live with since Beth had found work. So she made their tea and ate the lamb chops, mashed potatoes and cabbage with mint sauce that her aunt had cooked, and talked about the lovely things they had in stock.

  ‘I’ll be surprised if that shop survives a year,’ Aunt Helen observed as she dished up the suet pudding and treacle for afters. ‘Who has the money to buy the scarves you spoke of – and those expensive bags…?’ She shook her head over the folly of an American who clearly didn’t understand that the ordinary British woman simply could not afford such highly priced merchandise. ‘In a year or less, you’ll be looking for another job, Beth…’

  Beth didn’t answer. She would have made a spirited defence of their chances, but after Mr Harper’s upsetting announcement she thought her aunt might be right.

  After she’d done the dishes, Beth made some fairy cakes and a batch of jam tarts. She would take one of each and a sandwich with her in the morning and eat them in the staffroom rather than visiting the restaurant or Bessie’s café. If she was likely to be out of work again soon, she ought to save as much as she could.

  Beth was thoughtful when she went to bed that evening. She’d wondered if Mark would be at her bus stop earlier, but there had been no sign of him and her feelings had been a mixture of relief and regret. She knew there was no point in hoping he would go out of his way to meet her when he was already married, besides, he’d been angry with her. No, he had forgotten his feelings for her and she must forget her hopes of marriage and happiness, accept that her dreams belonged to the past.

  At least she had work for the moment and she was grateful that she would be paid on Friday night. It would be the first money she’d earned and very welcome now that the few pounds her mother had left had nearly gone.

  ‘I shall go in early in the morning,’ she told her aunt as she bid her goodnight. ‘I want to be there when the window blinds come down for the first time so that we can see the displays – and all sorts of things are happening. All the customers are to be offered a glass of champagne. You should come, Aunt Helen, you might win one of the prizes…’

  ‘I do not hold with champagne,’ her aunt said, wrinkling her nose. ‘A waste of money and a bad habit to encourage drinking during the day – and I’ve no time to waste queuing. I have work to do!’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Beth said. ‘Goodnight. I’ll try not to wake you in the morning…’

  She smothered a sigh as she entered her own bedroom. It was foolish to think that her aunt might take an interest in her place of work. Beth had hoped that she could earn promotion at Harpers and perhaps be able to have a place of her own – or one that she could share with friends, but now she feared she might be stuck here forever…

  Sally frowned as she saw Mick watching her when she entered the hostel. He was standing in the doorway of the public house opposite, just staring across at her, his hands on his hips, a smirk on his handsome face. She felt tempted to wipe the smile off for him, but he would only laugh if she said something rude; it was best just to ignore him. He didn’t call out or wave, though his gaze followed her inside, making her feel hot all over. Sally did her best to ignore him, but she was conscious of him all the same.

  However, when she reached her room, for once she took little notice of the cheerless atmosphere. She’d been shocked and surprised to see the man she’d spoken to outside Selfridges the previous evening and a little smile had curved her lips until his announcement banished it. Sally hadn’t been as upset as some others, because she’d never found it difficult to get work, but she liked the department where she already felt she fitted in with her immediate supervisor and the other girls. Mrs Craven expected loyalty and good work from those in her department and Sally liked her. She liked Maggie and Beth too and would be disappointed if she had to find a new job too soon. She’d stuck up for Mr Harper, but it wasn’t truly up to him, because if his uncle’s will didn’t name him as a major shareholder in the store he might be voted out – and that would be a shame for all of them, including Mr Ben Harper.

  Sally had hung up her coat when someone knocked at her door.

  ‘Yes, who is it?’

  ‘May I come in, Sally?’

  ‘Yes, all right…’ She opened the door to Sylvia reluctantly but then saw the other girl had been crying. Her hair looked messy and she had a bruised face, her mouth cut and bleeding. ‘You’d better come in… what happened?’ Sally asked as she shut the door behind her.

  ‘I had an argument with someone…’ Sylvia said and sank down on the edge of the bed looking miserable. ‘I don’t know what to do…’

  Sally saw the desperation in her face and something clicked. ‘Are you in trouble – with the law… or is it even worse?’

  Sylvia half smiled. ‘Even worse,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been seeing someone – and I’m having his baby. I told him and asked him what he intended to do about it. He told me to clear off and then he hit me…’

  ‘Rotten devil!’ Sally said, firing up. ‘You should go to the police…’

  ‘You don’t know him,’ Sylvia said bitterly. ‘If I did that I should end up in a back alley with my throat cut…’

  ‘Oh, Sylvia!’ Sally said, shocked by the flash of fear in the other girl’s eyes. ‘Why did you get involved with a man like that?’

  ‘I didn’t know what he was until it was too late,’ she replied, brushing a hand over her eyes. ‘He’s rich and drives about in an expensive motor car. He gave me a lift when it was raining and he started sending me presents. I was dazzled by his lifestyle and I thought he loved me – and he spoke of setting me up in a flat of my own…’ Sylvia’s voice cracked. ‘I nearly agreed and then someone told me that is the way Kingston works. Once he’s got you where he wants you… he makes you work for him…’ She lifted eyes filled with despair to meet Sally’s. ‘He brings other men to the flat and tells you to sleep with them to oblige him, and if you don’t…’ She gave a little sob of despair.

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Sally shuddered at the idea. ‘That’s terrible. You didn’t get caught like that?’

  ‘No, I refused and he told me we were finished – and I thought I was free and clear, but then…’ Sylvia took a deep breath. ‘I’m carrying his baby and he won’t do a thing to help me.’

  Sally looked at her with sympathy. ‘So he roughed you up when you told him he was responsible?’

  ‘No, he sent some of his men to the pub where I worked and they wrecked the place. I tried to stop them and they gave me a good hiding – and then my boss told me I was bad news and sacked me.’

  ‘He can’t do that…’ Sally protested but instantly realised that of course he could. Not only could her boss sack her, but if she was refused a reference, she would find it difficult to get another job. Pregnant and unmarried, her reputation would be destroyed. ‘I’m really sorry, Sylvia.’ There was nothing Sally could do to help her find a new job, but she could offer immediate help. ‘Let me bathe your face for you, it might ease the bruising.’

  ‘Thanks…’ Sylvia sat patiently as Sally bathed her face with cold water. She winced a bit but bore it without comment until Sally had finished. ‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance, but I didn’t know who to talk to…’

  ‘Have you any family?’

  ‘No, I’m on my own,’ Sylvia said. ‘I had a brother, but he went off years ago and my mother died last year. I know you can’t help me, Sally, but I just
felt I had to tell someone…’

  ‘If you like, I could write a character reference for you,’ Sally said tentatively. She didn’t really know Sylvia well enough, but she had to offer.

  ‘I’ll find a job somewhere – but they will throw me out once I start to show,’ Sylvia said and took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been a damned fool, but I really thought he cared for me.’

  ‘You could go to the Salvation Army,’ Sally said thoughtfully. ‘They have places you can go to give birth – and I’ve heard they will have the child adopted.’

  ‘Unless I get rid of it…’ Sylvia’s eyes flashed with sudden defiance. ‘I don’t want to give birth to that devil’s brat!’

  ‘Don’t even think of getting rid of it,’ Sally said and took hold of her arm urgently. ‘Please, Sylvia, promise me that you won’t do anything stupid. When I was in the orphanage, one of the girls tried to get rid of a baby with a knitting needle. She ruptured herself and they took her to hospital and she died. Beryl was just thirteen and it was one of the wardens that got her pregnant. She told me, but no one else would believe her – at least, they made out they didn’t.’

  ‘Thirteen…’ Sylvia’s face was pale and frightened. ‘Someone said if you sit in a hot bath and drink gin it brings on a miscarriage…’

  ‘That’s an old wives’ tale,’ Sally warned her. ‘I think all those old remedies are useless. I know you can go to women who do it but I think it’s dangerous…’

  Sylvia looked at her eagerly. ‘Do you know where I can find one? I’m nervous of doing it myself – but I can’t let him ruin my life.’

  Sally thought she’d already done that but kept a still tongue. There were women in back streets that got rid of unwanted babies for girls like Sylvia, but she didn’t know of any in particular.