Miracle on Regent Street

by Ali Harris

  ‘Er, Carly,’ I say and she glances up at me with sad, doleful eyes. Her cheeks are blotchy and it looks like she’s been crying. ‘Hey, are you OK?’ I ask, touching her gently on the arm.

  She nods and goes to speak, but then her eyes start filling up with tears.

  ‘Oh, don’t cry,’ I say, alarmed, ‘not here. Come on, let’s get you back to the stockroom. You look like you could do with a cup of tea.’

  ‘But what about the department?’ she protests tearfully.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you down there,’ I say, and push her towards the stairs. She turns and slopes despondently off and I wait for a moment before darting over to where Joel is still standing patiently waiting for me. He looks up from his iPhone and smiles, his eyes shining with pleasure.

  ‘Hi, you,’ he says, and slides his phone into his pocket.

  ‘Hi. Um, Joel, I appear to have a bit of a staff problem,’ I say pulling a face. ‘You know how it is. I really need to sort some stuff out. Sorry, you’ve caught me at a bad time. I could meet you later, though?’

  ‘Sure,’ Joel shrugs. ‘I guess I did kinda come unannounced and I can’t just expect you to drop everything. I know how important you are to this place. Actually, I’m due to meet Rupert anyway, so why don’t you come and find me when you’re done and maybe we can have lunch?’ He leans forward and kisses me on the lips, which makes me want to leap into his arms and beg him to take me away from all this. Instead, I smile bashfully as I pull back, then quickly, unable to stop myself, I lean forward and give him a long, lingering kiss before I dash off, frantically looking for Elaine to see if she can cover the department for half an hour.

  I eventually find Elaine in Haberdashery, helping Bernie and Susan, who appear to be working on their very own department makeover.

  ‘Elaine,’ I pant breathlessly, ‘I’m so glad I found you. Can you cover Designers for a bit? I, er, I need Carly with me in the stockroom.’

  ‘Go on, dearie,’ Bernie says in her lilting Irish voice as Susan beams brightly at us. ‘We’ve got it from here, sure we do. The buttons are going to go over here, and the vintage fabric is going to be displayed under this bunting that Susan’s made.’ Susan picks up an armful of fabric flags and holds them up: lots of perfectly sewn triangles of beautiful vintage fabric, some patchwork, others showcasing some of the gorgeous fabrics they sell in the department; pale mint and white polka dots, lilac and blue gingham and gorgeous Cath Kidston-style floral designs.

  ‘What a great idea!’ I exclaim, and Susan’s pale, powdered cheeks go a little pink as Bernie nudges her proudly. ‘And these buttons are amazing!’ I pounce on the box of shiny old buttons and rifle through them.

  ‘Ahhh, yes, Susan here had the idea of going and searching in the stockroom for all the other old buttons and fabrics that we knew had been kept, well, ever since we’ve worked here, which is what, Susan? Forty years now?’

  ‘Forty-one, so it is,’ Susan corrects proudly.

  ‘We’ve decided to give it a “Make Do and Mend” theme. It’s very trendy these days, apparently. We’re even thinking of setting up a craft corner right here in the department, doing different demonstrations each week and inviting customers to come and learn a new skill, like quilting, or lace-making or crocheting. Susan and I can do them all, you know.’

  I clap my hands. ‘That sounds wonderful,’ I say, feeling a swell of pride that these two stalwarts of the old-school Hardy’s have taken the store’s redesign to their hearts and are using their own expertise to update their department in a way that I never could. ‘It’s looking better already.’

  ‘Ahh, sure, we couldn’t have done it without Elaine. She’s been telling us just what the youngsters like these days and giving us ideas.’

  ‘I’ve loved it,’ Elaine says happily. Then her tone darkens. ‘And I’m not going back to Designers if Carly is still there. I can’t work with that girl a minute longer.’

  ‘She won’t be,’ I say. ‘Please, Elaine? Just for half an hour or so?’

  ‘OK, seeing as it’s you,’ Elaine says begrudgingly.

  I smile gratefully and dash off.

  I’m alarmed to find Carly slumped on the sofa in the stockroom, lights switched off and sobbing into a cushion. I rush over and flick the Christmas tree lights on, then perch on the end of the sofa and stroke her hair soothingly.

  ‘Hey now, it can’t be that bad,’ I say, trying to shake the guilty feeling that I am to blame for her misery.

  ‘Can’t it?’ She sniffs and turns her face to look at me. She looks terrible. ‘No one will speak to me, no one!’ she blubs despairingly as I put my arm around her. ‘I’m trying to do my job as b-best I can but no one will let me. Elaine won’t work with me in Designers, and when I try to go to other departments to help them remerchandise they just tell me they want to wait for the Secret Elf to come and do it. I-I’m meant to be the assistant manager! How am I supposed to impress Rupert if no one will let me do my job?’

  ‘He knows how hard you work and how valuable you are to this place,’ I say soothingly, feeling my stomach twinge with guilt when I think what I heard him say about her this morning.

  ‘Do y-you think so?’ Carly asks desperately. ‘I’m not so sure. And Sh-Sharon i-is always hovering around just waiting for me to make some terrible mistake so she can tell him to sack me. He always listens to her and she’s got it in for me now, just like the rest of them. Oh GOD, I hate it here, Sarah, I hate it!’ And she bursts into fresh tears.

  ‘Shhh, no you don’t,’ I say, cradling her head as she sobs into my shoulder. ‘There’s just a lot of changes going on right now and you need to adapt to them, that’s all.’

  ‘I just want it to go back to how it was before,’ she cries. ‘When I was popular and people listened to me. I just feel like everything’s changed, and I don’t know why. Maybe I should just leave . . . not that I have any other job to go to.’

  ‘Carly, listen to me. You’re an amazing girl and a great personal shopper, and most stores would love to employ a girl like you,’ I say, desperately wanting to boost her confidence. I feel like I’ve stolen it, along with her man. ‘You’re talented, stylish, and you know exactly what looks good on people. Hardy’s is changing but it doesn’t mean that you’re not good at your job. You are. The staff are just used to you being one of them, and now you’re not. And if you make them feel inferior to you, it’s going to upset them.’

  ‘I didn’t want to do that!’ Carly protests. ‘But Sharon told me when she and Rupert gave me the promotion that if I was going to be a manager I had to distance myself from the team. So that’s what I did.’

  ‘Let’s face it,’ I say gently, nudging her a little to try to extract a laugh, ‘Sharon isn’t exactly the most popular person in Hardy’s either, is she?’ Carly sniffs. ‘Which means you have to make a choice. Do you want to be popular or be respected?’

  Carly lifts her head off my shoulder, which is now damp from her tears. ‘Can’t I be both?’ she whimpers.

  ‘No,’ I say firmly, ‘you can’t. And to be honest, Carly, some of us don’t have the choice of either.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Carly says, wiping her nose with her sleeve. ‘Everyone loves you. And Sharon is always banging on about how the stockroom has been a changed place since you arrived.’

  ‘Well, I can’t have made that much of an impression. After all,’ I mutter without thinking, ‘no one even remembers my name.’ I stand up hurriedly and turn away as I realize what I’ve said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Carly sits up and looks at me, her eyebrows knitted together and frown lines on her usually smooth forehead, but despite this, the blotchiness and the red, running nose, she still looks annoyingly beautiful. ‘Of course we know your name. Everyone knows Sarah the Stockroom girl!’

  ‘But that’s just it,’ I say in frustration. ‘You don’t! No one does. Not really.’ Carly looks blankly at me and I realize I’ve said too m
uch. I take a deep breath and let my arms drop to my sides as I summon up a small smile. ‘Ignore me, Carly, it’s fine. I’m just . . . a little tense at the moment.’

  ‘You’re a little tense,’ Carly says peevishly. ‘Try being me.’

  You have no idea.

  ‘Listen,’ I say tightly, ‘why don’t you stay here for a bit? I’m going for a break now and I’ve got someone covering Designers. Put some fresh make-up on, get yourself together, then go back upstairs. And remember, everyone will come round to your new job if you treat them with the same respect that you want them to give to you.’

  And I walk out, leaving Carly looking like a dishevelled angel, slumped forlornly under the Christmas tree.

  I scan the store as I walk through each department, trying to find Joel. It’s 11 a.m., which is when Rupert usually does his rounds of the store, so I’m presuming that Joel will still be with Rupert somewhere. It doesn’t take me long to find them in Menswear.

  I hover on the stairs, look down and immediately see Rupert and Joel standing next to each other like the Odd Couple. They are watching on the sidelines, deep in discussion, whilst Guy works his magic on the customers. I watch for a few minutes and it soon becomes clear that the conversation is tenser than I imagined. Rupert’s face is going increasingly red and he looks upset; he keeps shaking his head and looking up at Hardy’s beautiful, domed roof despairingly. Joel isn’t faring much better. He is clearly struggling to explain something and I can’t help but wonder what. Lip-reading never was my strong point. I watch as Joel rubs his forehead and then gestures wildly, sweeping his arms around the store as if trying to show Rupert something. Then Rupert clenches his fists, says something and storms off.

  I walk slowly down the stairs and approach Joel, who is staring at his feet and rocking back and forth, his hands buried deep into his pockets, his brow furrowed. I don’t want to approach him now he’s had a disagreement with Rupert but I have no choice. I have to get him out of the store before Carly leaves the stockroom.

  ‘Joel? Is everything OK?’ I ask gently.

  Joel focuses on me and smiles distractedly. ‘Hey, Carly, sorry, I was miles away. Just thinking how much I hate my job sometimes.’

  ‘Don’t we all?’ I say, then add drily. ‘It’s why we call them “jobs” and not “barrels of laughs”.’ Joel chuckles, despite himself. ‘So what’s up?’ I ask, trying not to display too much interest in what he was talking to Rupert about, but nonetheless completely intrigued.

  ‘Oh, it’s just business,’ he sighs. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Try me,’ I say, pushing aside my disgruntlement at his patronizing answer. I’m surprised and a bit discomfited that he suddenly reminds me of my dad.

  He’s looking at me as if sizing up my ability to comprehend the situation when Guy approaches us.

  ‘Well, hellloooo, handsome,’ he drawls as he looks Joel up and down. ‘And what brings such a stylish customer to Hardy’s? Usually my customers leave my department looking like you, but they sure as hell don’t come in like that. I have some beautiful tailored suits that would look divine on your . . . body.’ He drops his eyes. ‘Obviously I’d have to take some measurements first.’ He turns to me. ‘You don’t mind if I steal him for a minute, do you, Sarah darling?’

  I glance at Joel in panic as Guy says my name and Joel raises his eyebrow enquiringly at me and I shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’

  Guy is still talking at us. ‘By the way, you look ravishing today too, darling. I’m loving the retro look you’ve been sporting recently,’ he gushes. ‘Now, enough of this chit-chatting, I’ve got a hunk to dress!’ And he drags Joel off by the elbow as Joel looks back at me helplessly and holds his fingers to his ear in an ‘I’ll call you’ mime.

  I watch them go and try not to panic about Joel being let loose in the store without me – not to mention what the hell Guy will say to him. The only good thing is that Guy will have him for at least an hour so hopefully Carly won’t bump into him. I resolve to call him after that time to try to save him from Guy. I can’t help but wonder what Joel said to Rupert that made him so angry. One thing I know: if he’s upset Rupert, and Rupert is trying desperately to save the store, then whatever it is, it can’t be good.

  I’m deep in thought and barely notice the throng of customers around me until I bump right into one. Apologizing profusely, I look up and stare in abject alarm into a familiar face: my dad’s. He never comes into see me at work. I can’t help but wonder why he’s here now.

  ‘Darling.’ His voice resonates against my body like a gong as he pulls me into a gigantic bear hug in the middle of the store. I gaze up at his warm, smiling face, slightly freaked out but pleased by his surprise visit.

  ‘What are you doing here, Dad?’ I ask, trying to sound businesslike on my turf. But it’s quite hard when you’re having your hair ruffled. I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that he’s here; the last thing I want is to bump into Joel and have to do the awkward introductions. I mean, imagine.

  Glancing around, I pull at my dad’s arm and try to lead him towards the stockroom where we can hide away. Unfortunately, unlike me, my dad doesn’t exactly know how to fade into the background.

  ‘Can’t a man come and see his daughter when he’s in town?’ he says, throwing a hand over my shoulder and squeezing the breath out of me.

  ‘’Course,’ I wheeze. ‘You’ve just never done it before.’

  ‘Well, maybe it’s time I started,’ he laughs jovially and then lowers his voice a little. ‘How about I take you out somewhere nice, you know, Claridge’s or somewhere? As a treat.’ My mind flits inappropriately to Joel and our night in his suite, and I blush.

  ‘I can’t, Dad, I’m working. But I can have a quick tea break. We can go to the stockroom?’ I suggest hopefully. ‘I can show you what I’ve done in there!’

  Dad’s top lip curls a little.

  ‘Nonsense, darling, let me at least treat you. How about the tearoom your mother and I used to go to? Do you remember how you used to come with us on our anniversary every year?’

  I smile fondly as I think back to those happy days and I slip my arm through Dad’s, finding comfort in the familiarity of his presence. Yes, he can be a bit stuck up and terribly overbearing sometimes, but I love him. And he’s reminded me just why I love Hardy’s so much, too. It’s part of the fabric of our family history. I know he and Mum will understand why I want to try to save it.

  ‘Hang on.’ I stop mid-step as a thought occurs to me. ‘Your anniversary is the twelfth of December. Wasn’t that yesterday, Dad?’ I’m thinking of poor Mum alone in Norfolk for the past few days whilst Dad works in London.

  Dad looks understandably alarmed. ‘Oh, shit, I’ve really messed up,’ he says, pulling out his BlackBerry and glancing at the date. ‘I’d better call Sally and see if she remembered.’

  I purse my lips. Sally is Dad’s long-suffering PA.

  He grins and winks at me as he ends his call. ‘She remembered to send flowers!’

  ‘That doesn’t excuse you, though, Dad,’ I scold. ‘Make sure you make it up to Mum.’

  ‘Of course I will, darling,’ Dad laughs, holding his hands up. ‘Haven’t I always treated her like a queen?’

  I smile, placated, and squeeze his arm as we start walking companionably, chatting about our weeks as I look around anxiously for signs of Joel and try to hurry Dad along. He tells me how he has been spending a lot of time in London because of a big broker deal he’s been working on.

  ‘You must get lonely in that flat all on your own,’ I say. ‘You should come for dinner at Delilah’s sometimes, we’re just down the road, remember.’

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ he replies, ‘but I’ve been so busy I’ve just been going back to the flat to sleep. That’s why your mother hasn’t come this time. I feel bad that she’s at home on her own, but work is just too busy to spend any time with her.’ He glances at me and smiles sadly. Poor
Dad, I think. I bet he’s really lonely. I hate thinking of him going back to an empty flat every night. Especially as I know how much he needs Mum. She’s like his right arm.

  ‘Well, maybe I could come and stay with you for a couple of nights?’ I offer. ‘Make you dinner or something?’

  He doesn’t answer and I realize it’s because he’s popped on one of the trilbies from Menswear and is admiring his handsome reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Hurry up, Dad,’ I chide. ‘I’ve only got twenty minutes or so. I can’t leave the stockroom for too long.’

  ‘Why?’ he replies, popping the hat back on the shelf. ‘It’s not like the place is ever busy.’

  I look at him in astonishment. My dad is a clever man, but he is oblivious to anything that doesn’t directly revolve around him. Are the throngs of people currently weaving their way around him completely invisible or has he just been blinded by his own reflection? I sigh as I step into the tearoom and embrace Lily warmly as she rushes over to greet me.

  ‘Well, I never . . .’ Dad says as he looks at Lily closely.

  ‘Charles Taylor,’ Lily says, holding her hand out before smiling and bobbing charmingly at my father. There is an uncomfortable pause as he takes her hand and she hastily prompts: ‘Lily Carmichael.’

  ‘Of course!’ laughs my father jovially as I cringe at his inability to remember people’s names. ‘Lily! How could I forget?’ I shake my head. Lily is nearly eighty years old and has managed to conjure up his name from the depths of her ailing memory, but yet he hasn’t recalled hers, and nor is he embarrassed by this fact. My father is used to being remembered by everyone. It makes me so mad. Maybe that’s why I’ve always endeavoured to remember everyone I meet, carefully memorizing their name and a fact about them so that I would never ever put them in the position that he’s just put Lily in. It makes people think he’s aloof although once they got to know him they’d see he wasn’t. He’s just a bit . . . wrapped up in himself.