The Shopkeeper's Daughter

by Dilly Court

  ‘Phooey!’ Livvie marched out of the shop, pushing past bewildered customers.

  Ida hurried to Ginnie’s side. ‘What’s got into her?’

  ‘Did she treat you well while I was away, Ida?’

  ‘Well, she was a bit abrupt and bossy, but then I gave her a bit of leeway because I thought it might be too much for her. She’s not the sharpest knife in the box.’

  ‘She was quite rude to Jimmy.’

  ‘Yes, well, the poor chap does need a bit of coaxing and he didn’t take to Miss Mallory at all. There was a little friction there.’

  ‘That’s all at an end now, Ida. She’s just informed me that her father was planning to buy me out and let her run the shop.’

  Ida’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and her mouth formed a perfect circle of surprise. ‘Never! Not Miss Posh Knickers!’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Ginnie said, stifling a giggle. ‘It’s not going to happen. I’d sooner burn the place down than let Mr Mallory get his hands on my business. We’re going to make it big, Ida. We might need a bit of help from Fred Chinashop and the rest of the shopkeepers in the parade from time to time, but I’m not selling up.’

  Later that morning Ginnie received a telephone call from Colin Mallory. ‘Olivia could sue you for unfair dismissal,’ he said abruptly.

  ‘She was casual labour, Mr Mallory.’ Ginnie took a deep breath. ‘It’s true that I put her in charge while I was way, but it was only temporary. I gave her a week’s money in lieu of notice.’

  ‘You can’t treat my daughter like that.’

  ‘I won’t have her treating my staff like dirt. And my shop isn’t for sale to you or anyone else. That’s what I told Livvie and I meant it.’

  ‘My son might be alive today if he hadn’t got himself tied to your whore of a sister.’

  ‘How dare you say things like that about Shirley? Laurence loved her and she loved him. He had TB and that’s what killed him.’

  ‘And I had to pay for his hospital treatment. If he’d been diagnosed sooner he might have recovered. You and your family are bad news and I’m going to ruin you. You won’t be so cocky then, my girl.’

  ‘Go ahead and try.’

  ‘I can do it. I’m an important man in this town. You’ll find that out to your cost.’ He slammed the receiver down.

  The first sign that Colin Mallory had carried out his threat was a letter from the planning department revoking the decision to allow Ginnie to enlarge the retail area if she took over Fred’s premises. There was no reason given and Ginnie spent all morning on the telephone trying to find out why permission had been given and then withdrawn, and if she had the right to appeal. After several attempts and having been passed from one department to another, she was advised to put her complaint in writing.

  Frustrated and angry, she was about to go next door to speak to Fred when he burst into the shop, red-faced and furious. ‘The council have changed their minds about the leasehold,’ he said, waving a sheet of paper in front of her. ‘Read this, Ginnie. It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do that?’

  Ginnie glanced at the typewritten letter. ‘I’ve just had something similar concerning planning permission,’ she said slowly. ‘Someone has got it in for me, Fred. And I know who that someone is.’

  Ida hurried out from behind the counter. ‘I knew it. That Livvie is a snake in the grass. I never trusted her and I always felt she was looking down on the likes of us.’

  ‘It’s her father who’s at the back of this. He warned me that he’d stop at nothing to see me ruined.’ Ginnie handed the letter back to Fred. ‘I’m going to appeal. They can’t do this to us.’

  He tucked it away in his breast pocket. ‘It looks as though they can and they have, Ginnie. I can’t afford to go to court over it, can you?’

  She shook her head. ‘Money is tight at the moment, but there must be a way. I won’t be beaten by old man Mallory.’

  ‘He’s a solicitor and a magistrate and he’s on the council, ducks,’ Ida said, frowning. ‘You’d need a good lawyer to take him on and the blooming council as well.’

  ‘And I was hoping for a quiet retirement, spending my time on my allotment growing leeks and carrots.’ Fred heaved a sigh. ‘I don’t mean to sound negative, Ginnie, but if you can’t buy the lease I’ll need to put it up for sale, and I won’t be able to do that if there’s an appeal pending.’

  She laid her hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry, Fred. But you do know that it’s Mallory who wants to get hold of the lease, don’t you?’

  ‘Why would he be interested in my little china shop?’

  ‘Because Livvie fancies herself as a businesswoman and she wants to take my business from me and yours too. She had the nerve to suggest that I might apply for the position of manager.’

  ‘I hope you told her where to go?’

  ‘Yes, Fred. I certainly did, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. She must have gone straight to Daddy and now he’s used his position to influence the council.’

  Ida puffed out her cheeks. ‘You’re not going to let him get away with that, are you, love?’

  ‘Indeed I’m not. In fact I’m going to his office now. Give me the letter, please, Fred. I’m going to face him with the facts and see what he has to say for himself.’

  That evening Ginnie arrived home tired and frustrated after all her attempts to see Mallory had failed. He had not returned her phone calls and she had had a similar response from the council offices.

  She let herself into the house and was met with a waft of warm, damp air and the smell of boiling nappies. The kitchen door was open and she could see her mother standing over the gas boiler, prodding the contents with a wooden stick. She glanced over her shoulder and her expression was not encouraging. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this,’ she muttered crossly. ‘Shirley’s been out all day showing off the kids to her friends and leaving me to do all the work.’

  Ginnie took off her coat and hat and hung them on the hallstand. ‘Why do you do it then, Mum?’

  ‘Because I’m soft in the head, that’s why.’ Mildred heaved a bundle of wet washing out of the boiler and dumped it into the sink. ‘Tea will be late. I’ve got to finish the nappies or Shirley won’t have anything to change them into tomorrow.’ She stared hard at Ginnie. ‘Why the long face?’

  Ginnie walked through a cloud of steam scented with Persil and just a hint of Parozone. She had grown up with the lingering smell of bleach that was ever present in their kitchen. Mildred scrubbed the draining board with it, and soaked the tea towels and dishcloth in it every evening when her housework routine was completed. Some women might dab Chanel No 5 behind their ears, but Ginnie had always suspected that her mother might opt for a touch of bleach. She dragged her thoughts back to the present. ‘Sorry, Mum, what did you say?’

  ‘I said, what’s wrong? Aren’t things going well at the shop?’

  ‘Where’s Shirley now, Mum?’

  ‘Bathing the little ones, and don’t change the subject. I know you, Virginia, you could never hide anything from me.’

  Ginnie sat down at the table. ‘Old man Mallory has got it in for me because I gave Livvie the push.’

  Mildred turned off the copper and sat down facing her daughter. ‘Why did you do that? I thought you two were getting on so well?’

  ‘She’s got it into her head that she wants to take over the business. While I was away she persuaded her father to buy me out and she had the cheek to suggest that I could work for her as manager.’

  ‘And you said no, of course.’

  ‘Yes, very firmly, and I sacked her.’

  Mildred nodded and her turban wobbled dangerously as if about to fall into the overflowing ashtray. She pulled a face as she picked it up and leaned over to empty it into the coke hod. ‘Nasty things, cigarettes. Your sister has taken up smoking. She says it stops her feeling hungry and she wants to get her figure back. God knows why. Even if she had a figure like Dorothy Lamour she’d find it hard t
o get a man who’s willing to take on another chap’s kids.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Ginnie said wearily. Somehow the conversation always turned to Shirley and her children. She stood up. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Mildred leaned back in her seat. ‘So if you’ve got rid of Livvie and told her you won’t sell up, what’s the problem?’

  ‘Mr Mallory has used his influence and I’ve been refused planning permission to enlarge the shop, and the sale of the lease on Fred’s shop has been blocked. I’ve tried to get some sense out of the council office, but all they’ll say is that I can appeal against the decision and that costs money.’

  ‘Then that’s what you must do, dear. That’s what your father would have done in similar circumstances.’

  ‘Yes, Mum, but I can’t afford to pay a lawyer, and it would have to be someone pretty sharp to get the better of Mr Mallory.’

  ‘And you know just the man, Ginnie.’

  Ginnie paused as she was about to light the gas beneath the kettle. ‘I do?’

  ‘Of course you do. That nice Steven Carter, Laurence’s best man. He’s a lawyer, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t know if he’s established in a practice. He’s only just been demobbed.’

  ‘Then you must find out. Get in touch with him right away. His number is on the pad. I took it down when he rang a few days ago while you were in America. Now there’s a charming man and English too. From Hampshire, I believe.’

  ‘Mum,’ Ginnie said, sighing. ‘Don’t start match-making. Shirley’s had enough bad luck with men.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of Shirley, dear.’

  Ginnie held up her hand. ‘Don’t look at me. I’m not in the market for a husband.’ She poured a little hot water into the teapot, staring thoughtfully at the swirling liquid. ‘But I’ve got a fight on my hands and Steven might be just the man to help out.’

  ‘Ginnie. I’d love to help.’ Steven’s voice sounded far away and the line was crackly which made it even more difficult to hear what he was saying. ‘But I’ve just started working for a firm of solicitors in Southampton and I can’t get away.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to do something for nothing,’ Ginnie said defensively. ‘It would have to be done on a business basis.’

  He was silent for a moment and she thought they might have been cut off. She was about to hang up when she heard him clear his throat. ‘Sorry, I was just checking my diary. Would it be possible for you to come down here to see me? I could fit you in tomorrow at about midday and then I could quite legitimately take you out to lunch.’

  She thought quickly. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll be there. Just give me instructions how to get to you from the station. I’ve got a pencil and paper.’ She scribbled down his address, thanked him and said goodbye, but as she replaced the receiver she wondered how she was going to keep the shop open even for a day. Ida and Jimmy could not work unsupervised and if she closed the shop it would send the wrong message to Mallory.

  She ran upstairs and found Shirley putting Colin to bed in his cot. She beckoned from the doorway, not wanting to wake the baby. Shirley nodded and bent down to kiss Colin, tucking him in with his favourite teddy bear. She made her way between the cot and her double bed, pausing to check on Toni who was sleeping peacefully in her Moses basket, before joining Ginnie on the landing. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I need your help.’

  ‘Mine? What could I possibly do to help the up and coming businesswoman?’

  ‘There’s no need to be sarky. I really do need you to help me if I’m going to put up a fight.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I’ll explain later but I want you to manage the shop for me, just for one day.’

  ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

  ‘I’m deadly serious. Come downstairs and I’ll explain.’

  ‘I haven’t said I would yet.’

  ‘I’m counting on you not to let me down, Shirley. Our whole future depends on us all pulling together.’

  After a great deal of talking Ginnie managed to persuade her mother to look after the children and with the greatest reluctance Shirley agreed to keep an eye on the shop, although she made it clear that she did not know one end of a carpet roll from the other and she would have to rely on Ida and Jimmy to help her out.

  Finding the train fare was another matter and Ginnie had to rob the jar by the telephone in which they were supposed to put money each time they made a call, and she emptied the dried egg tin on the kitchen mantelpiece where her mother saved up sixpences to pay the gas and electricity bills. ‘It’s just a loan,’ Ginnie assured her. ‘I’ll pay it back, I promise.’

  Mildred raised her hand to her head to push an escaping curler back beneath her turban. ‘You’d better or we’ll be cut off. And how d’you think you’re going to afford Steven’s bill when it comes?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mum. I’m going to be honest with him and tell him exactly how we’re fixed. If he doesn’t want to take the case it’ll be his choice. But he’s our only hope.’ She fingered the golden eagle brooch on her lapel and closed her eyes, wishing for good luck.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ginnie alighted from the train at Southampton station and took a cab to the address that Steven had given her. The offices were situated above the General Post Office, approached through a side door in a narrow alleyway. The staircase was uncarpeted and her footsteps echoed eerily as she climbed to the first floor. Emblazoned in gold and black lettering, a half-glassed door bore the names of the three partners. She knocked, and receiving no reply she entered a small vestibule where a middle-aged woman, wearing a grey twinset and a string of coral beads, was talking on the telephone. She acknowledged Ginnie with a brief nod and continued her conversation, which as far as Ginnie could gather was about a cat with a fish bone stuck in its throat. She appeared to be talking to the vet and was growing more and more agitated. ‘But I must have an appointment for Tarquin in my lunch hour. I’m Miss Golightly, a regular client.’ She paused for a moment. ‘No, well there must have been some mistake. I rang earlier and the young lady definitely said I could come at twelve thirty. I can’t just take time off from my job whenever I want to.’ She paused, cocking her head on one side and listening, although Ginnie wondered how she could hear anything with her grey hair plaited and wound into earphones. Maybe the lady suffered from the cold, or even worse had been born with bat ears that had blighted her life and left her a sad and lonely spinster with only a cat to love. Despite her own problems, Ginnie waited eagerly to learn Tarquin’s fate.

  ‘I don’t care if it’s your lunch time too,’ Miss Golightly continued with a break in her voice. ‘You’re the vet and I’ve got an animal in distress. He had fresh herring for his tea last night, and one of the bones must have lodged in the poor darling’s throat. I expect you to do something about it or my cat might choke to death, and that will be your fault. If he dies I’ll have to get my employer, Mr Thorogood of Thorogood, Thorogood and Harper, to sue you for negligence.’ A satisfied smile parted her lips to expose a missing molar. ‘Thank you. I’ll be there directly.’ She replaced the receiver and stared at Ginnie as if she were to blame for her difficulties. ‘Yes, miss. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Virginia Travis. I’ve got an appointment to see Mr Carter.’

  Miss Golightly began packing up her desk. ‘He’s got a client with him.’ She jumped up from her chair and snatched her coat from a hook on the wall. ‘I’ve got to go now. Just wait here, please.’ She grabbed a large leather handbag from a drawer. ‘I really have to hurry.’

  ‘I hope Tarquin gets better,’ Ginnie said, moving swiftly out of her way.

  ‘Thank you.’ Miss Golightly paused, peering at Ginnie through steel-rimmed spectacles. ‘How kind.’ She opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. The sound of her leather soles pounding on the staircase faded away and downstairs a door banged.

  Ginnie looked round and
found a chair beneath a pile of leather-bound books. She put them on the floor and sat down, clasping her handbag tightly in her hands.

  Moments later a door opened and a bald-headed man peered at the empty desk. ‘Where is Miss Golightly?’

  ‘She – er – popped out for a moment,’ Ginnie said vaguely.

  ‘How very inconvenient. I wanted a cup of tea.’ He slammed the door.

  Ginnie sat watching the hands on the wall clock, but either they were stuck or time passed more slowly in Southampton than it did in London. She wondered if being this much further south could have anything to do with it. After all, time was different in other places: maybe that was the case in the dingy, dusty law office, which had a decidedly Dickensian atmosphere. She glanced round thinking that they ought to sack their cleaner, if indeed they had one. Miss Golightly did not seem to care that there was a cobweb hanging from her filing basket and her typewriter would benefit from the energetic use of a feather duster. Ginnie looked up as the door opened half expecting it to be the same man demanding his tea, but it was a middle-aged woman wearing a felt hat with a large feather stuck in the brim. She glanced at Ginnie, frowning. ‘Men! They’re all miserable bastards. Don’t ever get married, my dear. They’ll take your best years and then desert you for a younger woman.’ She stamped out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Ginnie.’ Steven appeared suddenly, making her jump. ‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.’

  She stood up, tucking her handbag beneath her arm. ‘I was a bit early anyway, and it’s really kind of you to see me at such short notice.’

  He held the door for her. ‘It’s good to see you, even if it isn’t the most auspicious of occasions.’ He led the way along a narrow passage lined with doors. His office was at the far end next to the staff lavatory. The door had been left open and Ginnie could see a washbasin with a grubby towel hanging limply from a peg on the wall. The smell of Jeyes Fluid had not quite overcome the odour of urine and carbolic soap.