The Shop Girls of Harpers

by Rosie Clarke

  It was on her mind as she went down to the basement for her break at work later that morning. Fred had the kettle on and she asked him if he wanted to have tea in the park that Sunday. He looked pleased and they chatted for a while.

  ‘My Jack will be home in two weeks,’ he said. ‘He’s found a good job with the Hamburg-American line. They’ve made him up to senior steward as a reward for the lives he saved, and he’s gettin’ more money than he did with White Star. He reckons the owners have all learned their lesson and they’ll none of them send another ship out without enough lifeboats for all. Jack had to give written evidence for the inquest, though he couldn’t get back in time himself – but he’ll be back by mid-June…’

  ‘Oh, that’s so exciting for you, Fred.’ Beth was pleased for him. ‘You’ll have to bring him to one of our picnics when he gets home…’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that.’ He beamed at her. ‘I still wake up and thank God every morning because my Jack was spared – and for you, too, miss, because you’ve made all the difference to my life…’

  ‘I like talking to you, Fred,’ Beth said. She’d missed her father for such a long time and she’d taken to the caretaker as a man she could rely on. ‘I’m so happy you work here…’

  Beth realised that her life had improved in these past three months since she’d begun working for Harpers. She had friends now, her job and a little money in her pocket. Because of her friendship with Sally, she knew that the store was doing well and that Mr Harper was pleased with the level of sales. Like other members of staff she’d wondered if the store would be sold off because it was no longer part of a much bigger chain, but now it looked as if everything was going well. She hoped so, because life was good and she wanted it to continue…

  29

  ‘I’ve been looking at the sales figures,’ Ben Harper said one morning at the beginning of June as Sally entered the office and found him bent over the sheets, which had been sent up from each department. ‘Several have shown a distinct improvement since the first month and your old department is surging ahead…’

  ‘Good…’ Sally’s heart did a little happy dance as he smiled at her. ‘Do you think it will be enough to keep your partners satisfied?’

  ‘My aunt has decided not to sell her shares.’ Ben looked thoughtful. ‘She told me that she had confidence that I would make a success of the business, so I imagine she will be happy if you continue to show improvement, Miss Ross.’

  ‘I only buy the stock for two departments,’ she replied, turning aside from the look in his eyes which seemed to see into her heart. ‘It is a joint effort, Mr Harper. Mr Stockbridge and Mr Marco do most of it between them… and you, of course.’

  ‘I’ve merely agreed with suggestions from my manager and you, Sally Ross,’ he said. ‘I feel that those in day-to-day contact with the stock are better placed than I to make decisions…’

  ‘Yet we all know you’re watching, Mr Harper,’ Sally said, a little defiantly.

  ‘Still so formal’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought I might have been forgiven by now…’

  ‘I have nothing to forgive you for,’ Sally said, her pulse racing. What did he mean? ‘You’ve given me a chance to do something I enjoy – I am extremely grateful.’

  ‘Not grateful enough to let me take you to dinner this evening?’

  Sally drew a deep breath and then smiled. ‘As your employee I should be delighted to have dinner with you, Mr Harper.’

  ‘Good. I think of you as a friend, not just an employee – and we should celebrate our first three months,’ Mr Harper said and grinned. ‘Now, I want you to take a look at these lists I’ve drawn up – I think we should start thinking about our winter stock and Christmas too, indeed it is high time we did…’ It was barely summer, but already it was time to think about Christmas stock, because the new lines were being shown now.

  ‘Shall you have a special Christmas display throughout the store or just in the windows?’ Sally asked, interested, as she accepted the catalogues and saw the photographs and drawings of festive stock. ‘Oh, you’ve included a selection of Fair Isle jumpers for the men’s department. I suggested them to Mr Marco because he asked me what I thought was a nice gift for a gentleman friend…’

  Mr Harper nodded. ‘It seems so odd to be thinking of winter and Christmas when it’s a lovely summer day, doesn’t it? But that is what retailing is all about. We have to decide what will sell next season well in advance, and that’s why we sometimes make mistakes.’

  ‘I think these will sell,’ Sally said confidently. ‘They’re not too expensive and most men feel comfortable in these sleeveless pullovers at home… or at least I think they will…’

  ‘We can none of us be certain, it’s all about having the courage of our convictions,’ Mr Harper said. ‘My uncle had something similar and some of my friends wear them. I think they’re a safe bet. Now, what do you think of these overcoats with astrakhan collars?’

  After discussing various lines, they moved on to Sally’s departments and he mentioned a couple of lines she’d chosen from the lists he’d crossed through, saying how well they’d sold and apparently forgetting what he’d done. Sally thought it best not to remind him.

  They spent another hour discussing future orders for the shop and then Mr Harper departed to keep an appointment with his lawyer, promising to pick her up that evening, and Sally went on her usual tour of the store. She visited as many departments as she could each day, asking questions, checking rails and talking to all the salesmen and women, whether in her department or not. It helped her to have a good idea of what was selling and what was sticking. She’d made it her policy to keep the orders small and manageable, preferring to re-order more often rather than order too much and have it hanging there forever. It made more work for her that way, but she enjoyed being busy and expected others to work as hard.

  Catching a look of resentment from one of the salesgirls in the dress department, Sally approached her and asked her if there was anything troubling her.

  ‘I never seem to do anything but unpack new stuff,’ the girl said. ‘I’ve had to iron six wool skirts this morning, because they had creases in them.’

  ‘You’re June Brown, the junior on this floor?’ Sally frowned as the girl nodded. ‘Well, June, all I can say is that you should think yourself privileged to handle such lovely things. I should’ve loved to have your job when I was sixteen.’

  June sniffed and looked even sulkier.

  Sally stopped to have a word with the senior saleslady and asked about the latest costumes.

  ‘They’re selling really well, Miss Ross,’ Mrs Simpson said with enthusiasm. ‘The younger women love those skirts – they’re not easy to walk in because they’re so narrow round the ankles, but they do look stylish.’

  Sally felt pleased. She hadn’t been sure whether or not to stock the hobble skirt. It had made its first appearance amidst a chorus of protest two years earlier, several cartoons and scathing articles about its impracticality covering pages of the popular papers. However, fashionable young ladies liked them and enjoyed the skirts, some of which were so narrow that it was actually only possible to take the tiniest of steps. The skirts Sally had found, however, were narrow about the calves and then frothed out in a little frill at the ankles, which gave the wearer slightly more freedom.

  ‘Yes, I thought they might appeal,’ Sally said. ‘I’m thinking of buying one myself…’

  ‘You’ll need to be quick,’ Mrs Simpson told her. ‘We’ve sold five this morning. I was going to suggest that you re-order.’

  ‘I’ll inquire what else they have in a similar style,’ Sally said. She didn’t often re-order the exact garment, because what sold one day might not the next. Fashion was such a changeable thing.

  Just as she was about to leave, Mr Marco entered and she stopped as he smiled at her. His hair was dark, wavy and a little too long for business, but he was an artist, born of an English mother and an Italian father, and his char
m was in his smile and his teasing sense of humour, also his dark brown eyes that were warm and melting.

  ‘Ah, Miss Ross,’ he said. ‘I wanted some of your wonderful new hobble skirts for my display – they are so delightful and the way the ladies walk in them makes them look like little birds twittering on the branches…’

  ‘You are very naughty, Mr Marco,’ Sally said and smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re going to feature them, because I have some rather smart new ones in stock. I was wondering if you might set a scene at a garden party for us. You could show off our hats and pretty dresses, but also some sporting goods as well…’

  ‘I was thinking of doing a cricket window since we have all the wonderful matches going on at Lord’s and on village greens everywhere, but I also need a rowing regatta… anything to celebrate summer…’

  ‘We are thinking along the same lines,’ Sally said, smiling.

  ‘As always! Any ideas are welcome. Now run along, I shall not keep you,’ he said and waved her away. ‘You have so much to do, pretty Miss Ross…’

  Sally laughed and moved on. The window dresser often said things like that but she knew that it was just his way. Some of the girls whispered that Mr Marco’s lover was a man, but she ignored them. Whether it was true or not, it was his affair and made no difference to her – even though most of society did not see it that way.

  Sally moved on to her favourite department. She was just in time to see Rachel packing a beautiful skin bag, one of the most expensive they had in stock. Stopping to speak with Maggie, she asked her if the scarves were selling as well as ever and the girl’s smile shone out.

  ‘I’ve sold five already this morning. We’ve been really busy, Miss Ross. Everyone says it’s nice because we always have something new.’

  ‘Good, that’s what I like to hear,’ Sally replied. ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Stockbridge about you being promoted to the position of salesgirl as you are now in charge of your own counter – and he has promised to come back to me later today.’

  ‘Oh, Sally, thank you!’ Maggie cried and then blushed as Mrs Craven looked at her. ‘Sorry. I should have said Miss Ross…’

  ‘We’ll overlook it this once,’ Sally said and gave her a wink that no one else could see.

  She moved on to Rachel’s counter, addressing her as Mrs Craven because there were customers about and they’d agreed they would still use the formal address, even though they were now living in the same flat.

  ‘I wanted to tell you I’m going out for supper this evening,’ Sally said. ‘Mr Harper asked me and I agreed. I didn’t want you to wait for me when you got home.’

  They’d been sharing the flat for a while now and made a point of telling each other if they intended to be out for the evening.

  ‘Oh… no, of course not,’ Rachel said. ‘I was thinking I might go along to that meeting of the Movement, so I shall probably just have a sandwich and a pot of tea.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve actually got Minnie and Mildred to come along to the meetings at last… and hopefully you, too?’

  ‘I’ll do my best…’

  Sally nodded and moved away as another customer approached the counter. She stopped to speak to Beth, looking at the latest display of hats and making a mental note to buy some prettier styles. There were rather too many sensible felts and most of the fancier stock had gone. Beth had had a run on the straws because of the warmer weather, which was making women feel like dressing up in their finery.

  Sally left the department but just as she approached the lift, Miss Hart came up to her. The look on her face told Sally that the floor supervisor was not happy.

  ‘Miss Ross, I wanted a word with you!’ The supervisor gave her a vitriolic look.

  ‘Yes, Miss Hart – what may I do for you?’

  ‘It is what you have done…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Why did you go over my head and ask for Miss Gibbs to be made up to full sales assistant? I do not take kindly to you interfering in my job…’

  ‘Is it your job?’ Sally asked, giving her a hard look. ‘I understood that Mr Stockbridge was in charge of the staff wages, as well as many other things – however, if it was your job to bring it to his attention, why did you neglect to do so? Miss Gibbs should have been paid a full wage from the moment she was put in charge of a counter. Mr Stockbridge thanked me for bringing it to his attention…’

  Miss Hart glared at her and for a moment Sally thought she wanted to hit her, but then she turned on her heel and strode off. Her job was to oversee the various floors, help in whatever way necessary, to point out any mistakes or faults and move staff between departments if there were absentees, but wages and promotion were not her prerogative. Mr Stockbridge was in charge of the staff – and had Miss Hart been doing her job thoroughly she would have spoken to Mrs Craven about it and then brought it to the attention of the manager.

  It made Miss Hart hate Sally more than ever. Why she was so against her was a mystery, but Sally didn’t let it bother her. She had a job to do and she did what she could to keep the store running smoothly, even if some of it wasn’t her job. Mr Harper had made it clear he wanted her to speak up whenever she thought something needed doing so she had and if that annoyed Miss Hart it was too bad.

  Returning to the office, she made some phone calls. The manufacturer had sold out of the popular skirts she’d bought recently, but there was a new version of the same style in a heavy silk and cotton weave and another in a material that they were describing as artificial silk.

  ‘It is unofficially called rayon and it’s a special process,’ the salesman told Sally over the phone. ‘We’re describing it as artificial silk in our catalogue and I think it will be quite popular.’

  ‘It makes the skirts cheaper,’ Sally said, checking her pricelist. ‘I’m not too sure about the artificial silk – but we will take two each in twenty-four to twenty-six and twenty-eight inch waists please. The younger ladies like to buy more often, but I feel our more mature customers prefer quality and will stick to the heavy silk.’

  ‘I believe it is a material for the future,’ the salesman said. ‘The word artificial may put some off, but I think you will discover it is good value for money.’

  ‘We can always buy more,’ Sally said. ‘I should like you to send me your autumn and winter catalogues please. I know it’s hardly summer, but Mr Harper feels we should plan well ahead…’

  Sally replaced the receiver. She had worked through the lunch hour and it would soon be time for her to be thinking about getting ready for the evening. A smile touched her lips as she decided that she would return to the dress department and purchase one of the new skirts for herself…

  The lights were on in the flat when Ben Harper brought Sally home later that evening. She turned to look at him as he switched off the engine.

  ‘Would you like to come up and have a cup of cocoa with us?’ she asked.

  ‘Your flat mate might object,’ he said and looked at her strangely. ‘I don’t think I ought to barge in at this hour…’

  Sally nodded and moved to open her door, but he put out a hand to stop her.

  ‘Just a moment, please…’

  ‘You wanted to say something?’ They had talked of business for most of the evening, but also discussed music, plays on at West End theatres, the coming Olympics, and his hopes for the future of the store.

  ‘Yes… I wanted to say that I like you very much, Sally Ross…’

  He leaned towards her and she smelled the fresh tang of his cologne; it lingered on his skin, as if he’d just stepped from the bath and carried a hint of the outdoors. For a moment she thought he meant to kiss her and was mesmerised, gazing up into his eyes, but, with a great effort of will, pulled back.

  ‘I have to go. Thank you for a lovely evening, Mr Harper…’

  He nodded. ‘I wanted to tell you before I go. I’m leaving for the States in the morning, Sally. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’m relying on you, Stockbridge and Marco to hold the fort while I’m gone…’


  ‘No!’ Sally was shocked. ‘Why are you going? What happens to Harpers while you’re away?’ It seemed strange that he should leave when the store was still in its fledgling state.

  ‘You will all carry on as if I was still here,’ he said and there was something in his eyes that mocked her. ‘I think you’re quite capable of running this place all by yourself if I asked you to. Anyway, you’re going to have to for at least a month and it may be longer. I don’t have a choice.’

  ‘But why?’ Sally asked. ‘Is it my fault?’

  He laughed, his gaze mocking her. ‘The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Sally Ross. I have important personal business and that’s all I’m going to tell you.’ He touched the end of her nose with his forefinger. ‘Just take care of yourself and Harpers while I’m away.’ He drew back, his look seeming to challenge her. ‘Now go, before I say more than I should…’

  The mockery in his look and his words stung her and she opened her door and sat half out, then looked back at him. ‘Please come back safe…’ And then she scrambled out of the car and ran towards the apartment building.

  Sally didn’t turn round when she got to the door, though she heard the car roar off through the night and knew he must be breaking all the speed limits. His news that he was leaving for America the next day had devastated her. Why had he suddenly made up his mind to go? Or had he been planning it for a while? Was he going back to see a woman he cared for…? Her instincts told her there was a woman involved and it was like a knife thrust in her heart.

  Rachel was sitting on their sofa with a cup of cocoa and a magazine. She looked up and smiled as Sally entered. ‘Did you have a good evening?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, yes, pleasant,’ Sally replied carelessly, though her heart was still racing. ‘It was more of a business meeting really – Mr Harper is off to America tomorrow and I think he wanted to make sure that I was prepared to keep things steady until he returns.’