A New Dream

by Maggie Ford

  * * *

  Julia had been up since six this morning, dismayed to see it raining. All night, unable to sleep, she’d tossed and turned, annoying Stephanie. By seven thirty, having taken a taxi due to the foul weather, she had found the premises, well run down as Ginny described. If the rental had been on the board, as Ginny insisted, teeming rain had now partially obliterated it. Jotting down the few details left on the placard, she hurried the short distance to the agent’s with mounting excitement, careless now of the heavy rain.

  By nine o’clock she’d been standing outside the agent’s door for over half an hour waiting for it to open. Sheltering in the porch, huddled under her umbrella against the wet and the chilly March breeze, she was relieved to see someone arriving to unlock. Finding her standing there the man gave her a mildly curious look.

  ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting, my dear,’ he said as he inserted a key in the lock. Julia didn’t acknowledge the apology.

  ‘You’ve a shop for rent!’ she burst out, making him flinch away from her a tiny fraction.

  ‘Er… yes,’ he replied hesitantly, ‘we do have a few. But, er, yes, do come in,’ he finished.

  Recovering his wits he turned the key sharply and opened the door, ushering her inside to stand in the centre of the reception office while he busied himself switching on the lights against the overcast morning.

  ‘Take a seat, my dear.’ He indicated a chair in front of one of several desks as she stood uncertainly. ‘I shall be right with you.’

  Hurriedly taking off his hat, coat and scarf, he hung the coat and scarf over one of the arms of an umbrella stand, his bowler over another, and dropped his dripping umbrella into the receptacle below. That done, he came and sat behind the desk to face her, reached into one of the drawers to bring out a thick, black-bound brochure and began flicking through the pages.

  ‘Shop premises for rent, you say. What area?’

  ‘My sister saw it last night on her way to the cinema. It’s in Mitchell Street, near to Leicester Square. The sign wasn’t there when she went past earlier so it couldn’t have been there long. I’ve been there this morning to take a look. My sister said it looked like eighteen shillings a week.’

  ‘Ah!’ Laying the brochure aside he began sifting through papers on his desk, pausing to glance significantly at the wall clock as a young woman entered. Quickly she dropped her umbrella in the stand before hanging up her hat and coat and, with a timid apology for her lateness, sitting at her desk, the typewriter almost obscuring her from sight.

  He turned his attention back to Julia. ‘I apologize for the interruption, my dear, but I know the one you refer to. The vacancy was only made known to us yesterday morning. The tenant it seems has apparently skipped off, leaving his landlord in the lurch, and the tenancy has been put into our hands. The landlord was not surprisingly very upset and has asked us to find another tenant as soon as possible, hence the low rent.’

  ‘Then when may I view it?’ Julia asked, barely giving him time to draw his next breath.

  He gave her a condescending smile. ‘It depends on what you intend doing with it, my dear,’ he said, in the tone of a father speaking to a child, or a man addressing a feather-brained little woman. His attitude reminded her of her father and the way he would invariably speak to her mother. She felt herself bristle.

  ‘I have a business,’ she answered, lifting her head so that her neck appeared long and slender and dignified. ‘I design gowns. The premises I now have are proving too small and I need to expand. This one might be suitable and able to accommodate a modest-sized showroom, not too large.’

  She saw interest steal into his expression, and a certain eager gleam. ‘I do happen to have quite a few far better premises on my books if you wish to view any of those,’ he said.

  That-would mean larger rental and obviously more money for him. Julia almost smirked. ‘I would like to view this one,’ she said firmly. Before it’s snapped up by someone else, came the urgent thought. ‘My business partner should be here too, but if I find it suitable I would like you to hang on until I get back with him, which would be within half an hour. Would that be possible?’

  A bird in the hand, she thought, and it seemed he was of the same mind.

  ‘I will be happy with that, Madam – Miss…?’

  ‘Longfield,’ she supplied.

  ‘Miss Longfield. My name is Bennett. If you would care to have a closer look at the property before speaking to your partner,’ he went on as she acknowledged his name, ‘I would be happy to take you. If it is what you are looking for, I will most certainly wait until you consult your partner in order for him to take a look at it, if that is convenient to you.’

  At Julia’s acceptance he fumbled for the keys to the premises, at the same time instructing his assistant to hail a taxi. In no time at all, Julia was standing in the centre of the shop, its floor littered with – the debris left by its previous occupier – broken items of shop furniture, torn circulars, crumpled newspapers, ancient bills, along with lots of unidentifiable rubbish.

  ‘I do apologize for the mess,’ Bennett said, but Julia was more taken by the amount of space; it was twice as large as Simon’s present premises.

  The back room was promising too, with a kitchen area, storeroom and office, each sectioned off by a flimsy partition. Cleared, the space would make a perfect, if modest, showroom for her garments. The problem then would be, where would the kitchen, storeroom and office go?

  He seemed to read her mind. ‘There’s also upstairs accommodation – two floors, which could be sublet or kept for your own use. It seems the landlord is stipulating a lock, stock and barrel deal for the whole building.’

  Julia looked at him in surprise as he went on, ‘They are goodsized rooms, I gather.’ His eyes narrowed cunningly. ‘Of course, they command a higher rent than that being asked for the shop, you understand; two self-contained flats, maybe in need of just a little repair and redecoration. They’ve only been vacant for a short while. You saw the “To Let” notices in the upper windows?’

  She should have guessed there’d be a catch to it. In her excitement at finding out about the shop premises it hadn’t occurred to her to glance up at the windows above. She felt she’d been duped, and was disappointed and angry. Why hadn’t he mentioned this at the start, the cunning devil? No, it was a sprat to catch a mackerel and she’d been the gullible one. How could she and Simon afford the rent being asked on such a place? It was bound to be exorbitant. But slowly anger began to give way to thoughtfulness.

  She forced herself to remain impassive. ‘So how much is he asking?’

  He frowned, his lips pursed contemplatively before he finally announced a figure. ‘Of course, it is only an estimate,’ he said quickly as Julia in turn frowned and pursed her own lips. ‘It might be possible to persuade my client to negotiate a slightly lower figure.’

  ‘Even so, what worries me is why the whole building is vacant,’ she said, now suspecting he might be hiding some structural problem.

  He looked quite put out. ‘Maybe it’s the times we live in, with so much unemployment, so many unable to meet rising prices, the mounting number of evictions.’

  So it could be that the previous tenants, unable to pay the rent asked by a grasping landlord grown greedy like her own landlord, had been thrown out to shift for themselves and find somewhere cheaper.

  Julia was beginning to feel a pang of sympathy for the two families but Bennett’s next words showed that this was unnecessary. ‘I believe the first floor was used as a stockroom by the proprietor of the shop, only the top floor let as private tenancy. I have to confess, I was told the top floor does need a bit of cleaning up and on that score alone I could perhaps come to an agreement for a lesser rental.’

  Julia said nothing but her mind was already working fast. The top floor, cleaned up, could house her family, the first floor kept as a stockroom with enough space for Simon to live, under better conditions than he now did. This might prov
e a good deal after all, for it could cost more to find another flat. She needed to speak to Simon.

  But there was also the lease. Simon had been naive enough to take on a lease on the verge of expiring. She would not be caught like that. She reflected that not so long ago she wouldn’t have had any idea what a lease was; this past year had taught her a lot.

  ‘Can you show me the top floor?’ she asked, trying to sound non-committal. ‘How long is the lease?’ she enquired as they mounted the echoing stairway from a separate door to the shop.

  ‘The lease,’ Bennett repeated, ‘is ninety-nine years with forty-five to go.’

  It would easily see them out. Julia felt her heart leap, only to fall again as the door was opened and a musty odour of mice droppings greeted them.

  Trying not to breathe too deeply she let herself be shown through the flat, her heart lifting again. There were three bedrooms, a living room, good-sized kitchen and a partially enclosed balcony similar to the one she’d seen below. A cupboard housed a lavatory, which was dirty and smelled dreadful, but her optimism had grown – it could easily be cleaned up. It would mean no more running downstairs to the yard, no more having to use chamber pots.

  Like the lavatory the flat too was filthy; the previous occupants appeared to have been unsavoury to say the least. Little wonder the landlord hadn’t found anyone to rent it from him. In its present state, with peeling wallpaper, grubby windows and limp, stained curtains, it would have turned any likely tenant off, especially with the rental that was being quoted.

  Julia decided she would play on the fact that it would take a great deal of time and effort to get it clean and airy and sweet-smelling again. Containing her excitement she gave a grimace of disgust as she turned to Mr Bennett, who was looking somewhat abashed; he had obviously been as unprepared as she was for the state of the place.

  ‘I didn’t expect to find such appalling conditions,’ she said haughtily. ‘I am so disillusioned. Who on this earth would want to take on this place? No, Mr Bennett, I’m sorry. I had such high expectations, but regretfully…’

  She broke off, worried she might have gone too far, that he’d shrug and say she could take it or leave it. Had she already shot herself in the foot?

  He gazed at her for what seemed minutes on end, while her heart sank. Then he said, ‘May I suggest we return to my office where I might telephone my client and see what can be done.’

  Two hours later, Julia alighted from a taxi and hurried into Simon’s shop to tell him her news. Her excitement had abated and now her heart was fluttering with misgivings. All she had been able to think about in the taxi was, how would he receive the news that she had taken it upon herself to view premises for their business without first consulting him? After all, he was the one holding the purse strings, and finding the money for the down payment would eat into what profit there was.

  As the proprietor of his shop, he would expect to make decisions of this sort or at least share with her in the making of them. But if she’d stopped to consult him they might have lost the place since no money had yet been handed over. Now she needed him to go back there with her immediately in case someone else snapped it up in the meantime. Filled with anxiety she went into the shop.

  * * *

  Simon was with a customer as Julia, closing her still damp umbrella, entered the shop. The man was examining a pile of huge, showy tiaras and bead necklaces of assorted lengths and colours – some of the original stock that Simon had insisted on keeping back during the restyling of the shop last year.

  The man was saying, ‘It’s not a great production but in hopes we live to fill the house. This is just what I need – gaudy stuff, something to make the audience sit up and take notice.’

  As Julia perched herself on a stool a little to one side, he half turned to glance at her before going back to his prospective purchases.

  ‘OK then, these I’ll take. Those bits over there I will also take, and the feathers too.’

  Having seen her come in, Simon nodded at her with a smile then said to the man, ‘What about costumes? We’ve a good stock of fine material, good-quality fabrics, silks, and…’

  ‘I should want good quality?’ The man gave a deep laugh and spread his hands questioningly. ‘For my performances I need cheap ’n’ cheerful, big patterns, colour – lots of colour to make the audience sit up and…’

  ‘Take notice!’ Simon chuckled, his customer laughing too before he sobered a little.

  ‘You got nothing like that no more?’

  ‘Only what you see.’ Simon too had sobered but still smiled. ‘We made a few changes last year, I hope for the better. We hope to…’

  The man cut in with another laugh. ‘Then take my advice, you’re in the wrong area. You want to sell high class? Go to the West End. Here you sell what show people around here are looking for. But this stuff,’ he sifted the necklaces through chubby fingers, ‘here it’ll always sell. Take my word.’

  ‘It’s odd you should mention the West End,’ Julia cut in, making him turn, his broad face interested. ‘A shop like ours could do well there,’ she added.

  Here was the way out she’d been looking for, a way of telling Simon her news without it sounding as if she was taking over. But before she could say anything more, Simon put in, ‘This is my business partner, Miss Longfield. We manage the shop together.’

  ‘I am a customer of your… partner.’ The man smiled broadly at her. ‘Maurice Isaacs, an old customer, but for some months I have been in the north, busy with a small theatre I am in partnership with up there. So now I am surprised to come back and find this shop changed. That is your doing?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ Julia replied. ‘We teamed up last summer.’

  Mr Isaacs gave a little bow. ‘A very attractive young woman, I see. In the West End, with your looks, you would do very well with your modern ideas and your fine materials. Here we go in for the cheaper stuff. It suits the customers, you know, they pay at the door to be entertained, to laugh, have a good time, and bugger the state of the costumes so long as they leave happy.’

  He paused to look from her to Simon. ‘You said the West End? You don’t make enough money here? It’s a cheap place, but cheap brings in money. East End artistes with not too much to spare come to you to buy.’

  ‘The fact is we can’t stay here much longer,’ Julia defended before Simon could say anything. ‘The lease runs out in three weeks and the landlord won’t renew it, so we have to find somewhere else and we’ve been thinking of moving nearer to the West End theatres and starting over completely…’

  Her onrush tailed off as she caught Simon’s warning stare.

  Mr Isaacs looked surprised. ‘Have you then?’

  There was a long pause. Their customer turned back to the counter.

  ‘Well, I must be going. I have to pay you.’

  The transaction done, he left with a small bow of his head towards Julia, turning up his greatcoat collar against the now dwindling rain. As soon as he’d gone, Julia turned to see Simon rounding the end of the counter towards her, his lips tight, his expression alarming.

  ‘In business, Julia, never let a customer know we’re closing down. Word gets around. People stay away. And we need every penny we can get.’

  ‘I didn’t realize,’ she said, chastened. ‘I didn’t mean…’

  ‘I know. I should have stopped you sooner. But Maurice Isaacs is shrewd. He’d have seen through us. He’s been a regular customer ever since I opened, and been a good one when he’s in the area. I doubt he’ll desert us now.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she began, but he stopped her by taking her in his arms and kissing her.

  ‘Nothing we can do about it, my love. But, getting back to business, now people knowing we’re closing down, I’m starting to worry about where we can go. I don’t want to admit defeat. We have to find somewhere.’

  Julia knew she had to be cautious as his voice died away and he let go of her. ‘I think I might have found so
mewhere,’ she began tentatively. ‘But I’m a little worried now whether you’ll think I’ve taken too much upon myself by not consulting you first. I had no time, you see,’ she rushed on, and rapidly told him what she had been doing that morning.

  He listened without speaking until she fell silent, still wondering what he thought. Would he come and see the place now? Was he upset by what she had done?

  The silence seemed to last an age before he finally spoke.

  Fifteen

  His expression was one of confusion. ‘You say you think you might have found somewhere? When was this? And why haven’t you told me?’

  She could have done that last night as soon as she heard about the place but she had needed to think before doing so.

  ‘Virginia only told me about it when I was going to bed. I thought you might already be asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you by bashing on the shop door at that time of night.’

  It was a small fib. What she’d needed to do first was to go early this morning and look for herself before telling him and getting his hopes up. Now it seemed to have been a foolish idea.

  ‘I hardly slept myself for thinking about it,’ she hurried on. ‘It could have been just a flash in the pan and we would have had to wait until this morning anyway.’

  He was still looking confounded. ‘But if you’d mentioned it we could have gone there together.’

  ‘I had to get there quickly before someone else found it first. I needed to ask if the vendor would hold it for us until I came back with you.’ That was the truth. ‘I left here at seven, well before you’d opened. I didn’t dare wait.’

  Actually it hadn’t even occurred to her to bang on the shop door and wake him, though that would have caused even more delay in getting there.

  Explanations tripping over her tongue, she told him everything she’d found out: how surprisingly cheap the rent was and about the vacant flats too; how the first floor would make a combined stockroom and living accommodation for him, the top flat would be suitable for her family, with her mother conveniently near; how the estate agent had promised to hold it for an hour or two until she could return with him.