Across the Counter

by Mary Burchell

  “Probably because you have to tell someone. And it’s less embarrassing to tell a virtual stranger than a close friend.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Anyway, I believe Malcolm when he says he made a genuine mistake about ... about me. Then when he met your sister he just ... knew. I don’t know what else he could have done other than tell me the truth.”

  “He might perhaps have made it clear from the beginning that he was an engaged man. Geraldine is not the kind to poach on another girl’s preserves.”

  “I don’t think it would have made any difference in the end. It doesn’t, you know, when ... when this sort of thing hits you hard.”

  “No? Well, perhaps you’re right. Now eat your sandwich.”

  She found herself obeying him immediately and discovering in the process that she was exceedingly hungry. It seemed faintly gross to find food so good when one’s heart was broken. But so it was. And apparently he understood, because without comment he fetched her another sandwich and watched her with some satisfaction while she ate it.

  “Feeling better?” he inquired with a slight smile.

  “Yes, thank you. You’re being most awfully kind. Especially—” she also smiled, a brilliant smile that lighted her whole face “—especially to an interloper.”

  “An interloper?”

  “Yes. Don’t you remember? You consider all of us from Bremmisons as interlopers, and more or less dislike us on sight.”

  “I didn’t add that last bit,” he told her amusedly. “You made that up.”

  “Based on the way you looked when you spoke of us,” she assured him.

  “No—did I really look so unpleasant?”

  “Not unpleasant!” She looked slightly shocked, which seemed to amuse him still further. “Just rather fed up. And it’s quite all right—I do understand. It’s a rotten position for you.”

  “I remember—you said you were more or less a local girl and therefore appreciated the situation better than your London colleagues.”

  “Yes, that’s true. My family lives quite near here.”

  “Then I think I’d better take you home to your mother now,” he observed looking at his watch.

  “Oh—” she laughed, oddly touched by his way of putting things “—I didn’t mean that they live actually in Morringham. More like twenty miles away. I nearly decided to go there this evening, but then I thought—” the laughter died out of her face and she sighed “—I thought I’d wait until I was in a better mood and more able to ... to cope with questions and comment.”

  “Do they know about your engagement?”

  “No. So they needn’t know about ... the other, either.”

  “Then no one here knows about it?”

  “Except you,” she said.

  “Well, yes—except me.” He seemed a little surprised himself to find he was the exception.

  “And please—” she looked at him anxiously “—you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  “Of course not!”

  “I mean ... you won’t think it necessary to tell your sister anything about Malcolm’s previous ... previous—”

  “Activities? Certainly not. What he tells her or does, not tell her is entirely his affair.”

  “Thank you. And thank you also for being so kind to me this evening. I’m afraid I’ve taken up a lot of your time, but I won’t keep you anymore.”

  She stood up and he rose, too, and asked, “Where are you staying?”

  “At a small place called the Bellevue.”

  “I know it. I’ll take you there.”

  “Really, Mr. Kendale,” she said earnestly, “you don’t have to. I can perfectly easily—”

  “I never do things because I feel I have to, Miss Renner,” he assured her with that dry little smile. “I have my car outside. Will you come?”

  So she came. And without doubt it was some faint comfort to both one’s feelings and one’s pride to arrive back at the hotel in a handsome car, driven by a handsome man, when one had left it in such solitary despair and humiliation.

  Katherine thanked him again as she said good-night. And then on an impulse she could neither explain nor control she leaned forward and spoke to him again through the open window of the car.

  “Mr. Kendale, may I ask you something rather personal?”

  “If you want to very much.”

  “Are you going on now to the ... the engagement party?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Then I’ve really been keeping you away from it all this time! How on earth are you going to explain your coming so late?”

  “I shall say that I unexpectedly had to attend to something I considered important,” he said gravely. “And I shall be telling the exact truth.”

  Then with a slight smile he raised his hand to her in a little gesture of farewell and drove away.

  She was smiling a little as she went into the hotel, and even her small bedroom looked a shade less dreary when she returned to it. Paul Kendale had certainly made her feel faintly less alone in an alien place, and grateful and comforted to some degree she actually managed to sleep fairly well that night.

  But waking to a chilly, sunless day was another matter. Especially when the fresh realization of her loss flooded back upon her.

  It will be like this for days and weeks, she thought dismayedly. And I shall have to learn to live with it. Other people do.

  But other people’s troubles, and the way they meet them, never seem to have much relation to one’s own. And Katherine’s spirits were at a very low ebb indeed as she set off for Kendales fortified by what the management of the Bellevue called “a good substantial breakfast.”

  On arrival she went straight to the Blouses and Skirts Department where she found Aileen Lester regaling two of the junior assistants with an account of the previous evening’s party.

  The group broke up as soon as Katherine appeared, and the two juniors scurried off on their own affairs. But Aileen Lester held her ground and gave that condescending little smile to which she had treated Katherine the night before.

  “You really should have come to the party,” she informed her. “It was quite something! And it would have been perfectly all right for you to have come provided I took you along.”

  Katherine was not slow to observe that, apart from anything else, she would have put herself in a fatally weak position if she had indeed accepted Miss Lester’s patronage on such an occasion.

  Aloud she said pleasantly but briskly, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. But I think an early night was more what I needed after such a long day. And now if you can leave your first assistant in charge, I think you and I should go through the books together so that I can begin to get a picture of how orders and sales have gone in the last year.”

  The other girl came reluctantly. And as though determined not to be sidetracked onto mere work too soon, she remarked as they crossed to the office behind the fitting rooms, “I think my friend Geraldine has excellent taste. Malcolm Fordham really is very attractive, isn’t he?”

  “Why, yes. I suppose he is,” Katherine agreed calmly.

  “I told him I’d met you on the way and that, although I’d done my best to persuade you to come, too, you wouldn’t.”

  With the greatest effort Katherine kept control of her voice and her expression.

  “I hope you didn’t make it sound an ungracious refusal.”

  “No. I explained that you had some idea you’d be gate-crashing and that I couldn’t convince you to the contrary.”

  She ought to have left it at that, of course. But it was beyond her to do so. And absently fingering the books that Aileen Lester was not setting before her Katherine asked abruptly, “What did he say?”

  “Malcolm?” Miss Lester evidently already felt herself on good terms with her friend’s fiancé. “Oh, he didn’t say much. He accepted the explanation with a shrug. But—” her cold gray eyes stared speculatively at Katherine “—the odd thing was, I thought he was quite upset.”
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  “You must have been mistaken.” With an effort once more, Katherine relaxed her too tight hold on the books. “A man who has just become engaged doesn’t really mind much who comes to his party.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps there was some other reason that I hadn’t thought of,” agreed Miss Lester with another of those speculative glances. And then they turned their attention to the order, books.

  The next hour was not a very pleasant one for either of them. Katherine had determined to find as little fault as possible and to avoid all appearance of thinking herself much cleverer than those who had run the department up to now. But only a cursory examination was necessary to tell her that a complete reform was needed.

  On the whole she thought Aileen Lester was probably not incapable. But she was lazy and she was quite indifferent to the success or well-being of her department. For the last two years at least, business had simply been “ticking over” in an uneventful and uninspiring sort of way. And to Katherine, with her passion for salesmanship, it was almost horrifying to see how much business had probably been lost.

  She made little comment until she had examined the books thoroughly, though occasionally she asked a question that was obviously resented.

  Finally she leaned back in her chair, regarded the other girl and said coolly, “You don’t very much like your job, do you?”

  Aileen Lester looked surprised. Then she shrugged.

  “It’s as good as any other, and better than most,” she replied. “At least we’re left a good deal to ourselves in this department. It’s not what I’d call one of the madly busy corners of the store.”

  “That seems a pity. It could be just that.”

  The other girl didn’t say anything, but a rather sullen look came over her face. And Katherine saw that half measures were not going to be much good.

  “Miss Lester,” she said, and although her tone was quiet, the other girl instinctively sat up, “you aren’t going to like what I’m going to say, but it’s much better that I should say it to you than to someone in authority. This department has done only about half the business it should have done during the past year. I don’t think it’s due to inefficiency on your part. I think it’s due to your lack of interest. It isn’t a matter for congratulation, you know, that the department is not a busy one.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Aileen Lester protested. “I didn’t make the department a quiet one. But if it isn’t a mad scramble of work, I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry.”

  “That attitude never put business on any books,” Katherine told her with a smile. “I’m not advocating a mad scramble of any sort—that would argue inefficiency—but a good buyer should find it profoundly disturbing if business continues to be slack for any length of time.”

  “I suppose you’re going to try to get me sacked so that you can have my job?” was the sulky reply.

  “I don’t need your job,” said Katherine with cold astringency. “You will be working under me—if you choose to stay, in this department.” Then ignoring the gasp that sounded as though someone had thrown cold water over Miss Lester, she went on in a more friendly tone, “I just want you to know that this department is going to be reorganized. It will be a lot more interesting, and you will have scope to use the taste and talent that I see from your own way of dressing you undoubtedly possess. But it’s going to mean a great deal more work. If that prospect appeals to you, I hope you will stay and that we shall work pleasantly together. If not, it would be better for you to say so now and for a job to be found for you in one of the less busy departments.”

  For a moment Aileen Lester looked as though she was struggling to cope with a statement made in a foreign language. Then she said almost incredulously, “You mean that you would make that suggestion when you were reporting on me?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “To Paul Kendale, I suppose?” The other girl gave an angry little laugh.

  “To Mr. Kendale, if he proves to be the person who deals with such staff matters,” agreed Katherine unmoved.

  “He won’t listen to any ill-natured complaints about me.”

  “He won’t have to where I’m concerned.” Katherine refused to lose her temper. “He will merely have it explained to him why I find you suitable—or unsuitable—for this department.”

  There was a short silence while Aileen Lester presumably digested some unpalatable but inescapable facts. Then she said with unexpected submissiveness, “I would prefer to stay on here.”

  “You would? Well, that’s fine.” Katherine even managed to infuse some enthusiasm into that. “I think you and I can do a lot of useful work together, and I would be glad of your specialized knowledge of a big provincial store.”

  Aileen Lester smiled, and though it was not exactly a warm smile, it could just have been considered to be an attempt at one. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Katherine said, “Please don’t take all I’ve said too personally. I have to know where I stand with my colleagues if I’m to carry this through. The really important thing is that we should pull together in the interests of the store.”

  “Yes, of course,” the other girl agreed. But her eyes were very cold again, and Katherine hardly thought she had made a friend that morning.

  Well, perhaps that would have been too much to expect. As long as their differences were not too strongly emphasized and did not interfere with their working relationship, anything else must be dealt with as tactfully as possible if and when it came up.

  During the morning Katherine visited one or two other departments, making herself known now to the buyer in each of them. In all cases she found rather more cooperation than she had had with Miss Lester, and in, the familiar setting of Costume Jewelry particularly, she found a most able and enthusiastically.

  Miss Falloden—young and quite recently appointed—was still struggling with a certain amount of confusion left by her predecessor, and she welcomed the boldness and resource of the overall scheme that was already beginning to take shape in Katherine’s mind.

  “How thrilling to make an entirely new start!” she exclaimed delightedly. “Like an adventure.”

  And when Katherine greeted that outlook with amused approval she went on confidentially. “Things have been pretty dead during the last year or two, you know. In fact, most of the time I was here as a saleswoman old Mr. Kendale was getting past it, and yet he just wouldn’t relinquish the reins. I don’t think I’m telling you any secrets when I say that.”

  “I have heard similar reports,” Katherine agreed diplomatically.

  “Personally, I think it was very hard on Mr. Paul Kendale. But—as again perhaps you’ve heard—there isn’t much love lost between father and son. It’s the daughter—Geraldine—who is everything in the old man’s eyes.”

  “Is that so?”

  “She’s charmingly pretty and really very nice by all accounts,” Miss Falloden went on. “But after all, a business like this should be more a son’s affair, shouldn’t it? I think it was too bad to keep him out so long.”

  “Did he not work here at all under his father’s regime, then?” inquired Katherine, feeling that in Miss Falloden she had found a source of not-too gossipy information that one might legitimately tap.

  “Oh, no. He refused to be a nobody in what should have been his own firm, and I can’t say I blame him. He took a job in a London store instead and I think did awfully well.”

  “Which one?” Katherine inquired curiously.

  Miss Falloden named what might be considered to be Bremmisons’s chief rival and Katherine thought she began to see why Paul Kendale was particularly critical of anyone from Bremmisons. All his own business experience must have been in opposition to her own store, and it must have been particularly galling to have them finally buy his family firm.

  “Mr. Paul only came back to Morringham quite recently,” the other girl went on. “I think it was a shame that he couldn’t have had a few years as owner of the place. Bu
t although he apparently couldn’t persuade the old man not to sell out, at least he retained a strong family interest in the business. No doubt you’ve met him already?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Katherine, faintly self-conscious at the recollection that she had almost cried in front of him in a coffee bar not twenty-four hours ago. “I’m making it my business to meet as many people in the firm as possible,” she added a trifle formally.

  “Well then, I expect you’ll be coming to the Kendale Ball on Saturday? Almost everyone will be there.”

  “The Kendale Ball?”

  “Yes. We have it every year just about this time, at the Assembly Rooms—which really are very Regency and lovely. It’s the one social event where nearly everyone mixes. Much more so than they do in a London store, I imagine.”

  “I’m sure,” agreed Katherine, thinking of the strict lines of social demarcation in the Bremmisons hierarchy.

  “Then you’ll come?”

  “I don’t really know. It’s a little awkward to go to a dance in a strange city. I’d have to find a partner and—”

  “I’ll rustle one up for you, if you like,” declared Miss Falloden with the utmost good humor. “It wouldn’t be difficult.” And she glanced at Katherine with frank and friendly admiration.

  “Oh, thank you!” Katherine laughed and colored slightly. “Or I could, of course, get my brother to take me if he’s free,” she added, suddenly remembering the useful nearness of her own family.

  Miss Falloden looked interested and inquiring so Katherine explained briefly about her family. And when the other girl said with sincerity, “How lovely!” Katherine went on her way feeling that life was a lot more attractive than it had seemed when she was discussing order books with Miss Lester.